Oh lord, I hate when I feel things, but I hope you feel something too while reading.
I own nothing and please enjoy. Comments and reviews in the doobly-do
Cato, my friend
Part 7
-Cato's view-
I ran my sword straight through his gut, and a feeling of incredible satisfaction overpowered me. To see that nameless tribute writhing on the ground before his twitching gave way to stillness made me feel powerful, so fucking powerful. The elation of the kill is something that is inside me, and will always be inside me. I'm a killer and a good one. To Errol I may have been...kinder, but these nameless fucks are just sheep for the slaughter, and I have no regrets or doubts about killing them. I remember what Errol told me about keeping my "Real," self alive, but what he doesn't understand is that this is who I am. The kindness I show him is a part of me, but so is my vicious nature, and right now that nature will keep me alive, and make me a winner.
-Errol's view-
I turn off the TV after Cato's latest kill, I just don't have the stomach to watch. He was just a kid, the tribute Cato killed, a kid with eyes full of fear, pleading for mercy, just like mine were at the reaping. The Cato I knew isn't in the Hunger Games, I should have known he wouldn't, but I don't blame Cato for it, in the games humanity wont keep you alive long. I kept thinking that the Cato I love is still alive, somewhere sleeping within the blood thirsty warrior that is in the games.
With Cato gone there's no one to protect me at school. So I just stop going, I dedicate myself to the messengers service full time, and eventually I earn my right to call myself a true messenger. On the last hour of my deliveries I see someone coming up from behind me. It's Reed, my only friend in the delivery service. "The games are down to the last three tributes, the two from district 12 and Cato!" He says out of breath, apparently he's been running hard to find all the messengers to tell them. I immediately start running for my house and forget my deliveries. "Hey we were going to watch it at the Mail hall!" I hear Reed call out, but I ignore him and make it home while dads out and I flip on the TV.
Then I see it, I see the wolfs chasing them to the cornucopia, the blood flying from the beasts and Cato. He's fighting them with his sword, while the other tributes stand on the cornucopia. He's losing, he's losing, he's going to die. I look at the tributes staring down from their perch. Why wont they help him, save him, they wont save him, the man I love, and I watch and they watch and all of Panem watch as Cato is taken down and feasted on by these evil creatures, but he wont die, he's got on armor that protects him, so it's slow, and furious. Eventually the creatures are called back when they don't see Cato as a threat. Cato rises, but he shouldn't be able too, he's moving like a ghost, like a shell, and I realize who is on screen now.
Its not Cato the warrior, its my Cato walking, broken and nearly dead. I can see it on his face, the almost serene look. He walks to the wall of the cornucopia and falls, but manages to prop himself up and rest on the wall. The female tribute walks down, Katniss, the one who will burn the world. She mounts an arrow while Cato can scratchily be heard saying, "Please." I scream for someone to stop her, for someone to save Cato, my Cato who is dying. She pulls back her arrow as Cato reaches out a hand. "PLEASE GOD NO!" I scream when she releases her arrow and strikes Cato through the head.