Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
A/N: Major changes in this chapter.
Chapter 11: A Bloodbath leash.
Blaine's POV
I woke up with a gasp, having a nightmare. As I relived my experience of the Bloodbath. When the chute sent me up, it was a blizzard. Barely anyone could see, as the Cornucopia was merely a golden shimmer. During my Game, I did not participate in the Bloodbath. I grabbed the closest pack and a knife before running in the opposite direction. But I saw the Careers easily killing tributes as they stained the snow red.
I panted, feeling an anxiety attack consume me. My heart is racing as my muscles tighten. I clenched the sheets trying to regain my breathing, except it was not happening. A soft mewed could be heard at the end of the bed. Midnight got up, crawled to my chest, and laid down on it. He began to purr, nudging his head into my neck and giving soft, gentle licks. Slowly, I placed a hand on his back and began to pet him, stroking along his spine until reaching his tail and doing it over again.
Time seemed to vanish as my anxiety attack decreased, and I had better control of my body. I took several deep breaths until I was calm. Midnight leans up before licking my cheek. I sighed, giving a gentle hug.
"Thanks," I murmured.
Midnight mewed, purring softly.
I don't know if I would have gotten better if I didn't have Midnight. Ever since I was eighteen, Midnight has been my emotional support animal. When I have these attacks, he is there to calm me down. I don't know what to do without him. Yes, there were the first two years, as Haymitch tried to tend to me when I had these nightmares. But Haymitch wasn't good with emotions. And when I was at the Capitol, it was Finnick. However, Finnick couldn't be with me while dealing with his clients.
I glance out the window to see the sun begin to rise.
Today was officially the start of the Hunger Games.
All the glamor was gone. The training was over. The lights and cameras that glorify the tributes are done. In a few hours there will be the Bloodbath. And the Bloodbath will tempt the tributes to go in for the slaughter.
Knowing I had to face these demons, I got out of bed and started my day. I dreaded seeing President Snow. No doubt he wants to address Peeta's interview. Or worse. It has been three months since I did an assignment that involved spying on someone or…terminating them.
Shaking my head, I got up, set Midnight on the bed, and took a shower. After doing my morning routine, I went to the closet to see what was suitable for seeing President Snow. There was a modest black dress that was tea-length. It features an A-line silhouette, as the skirt was pleated with a waistband. Along with a crew neckline and short sleeves. It was simple and constructed.
I put the dress on, allowing my hair down while doing simple makeup. I put on a pair of simple black pumps. President Snow doesn't want his victors to dress exaggeratedly when meeting him. He prefers us to dress simply.
Once done, I got food sent for Midnight and left my room.
As I got out, I found Peeta leaving his room. He was dressed in a black shirt, dark cargo pants, and brown buckle boots. Black was the assigned color for District 12 when it came to the arena. At the beginning of the Hunger Games, tributes wore their reaping clothes into the arena. By the fifteenth Hunger Games, conditions for tributes became better. As President Snow mentioned, tributes were put in cages like animals in a zoo when he was a mentor. Now tributes are trained and given garments to help them in the arena as the Capitol's generosity.
I walked over to Peeta, checking his condition, seeing he didn't get enough sleep. He stared at me nervously. Not thinking, I hugged him. Peeta tensed before hugging me back. He didn't cry, but if he could, he would.
"I'll do my best as your mentor to keep you safe," I promised.
Peeta nodded.
A peacekeeper stood in the hallway, "The hovercraft is waiting."
I took a deep breath and separated from Peeta. I still had time, so walking him to the hovercraft seemed fair. We went to the elevator and got inside alone.
"They'll put all kinds of stuff right in front of the Cornucopia. Many weapons and many supplies." I informed him. "Don't go for it. There will be loose supplies spread out. Grab the nearest thing and run."
"Why?" He asked.
"It'll be a bloodbath," I answered. "They're trying to pull you in. That's not your game. You turn, run, find high ground, and look for water. Water's your new best friend. But test it first. If the water is stagnant, don't drink it unless you have iodine."
Peeta nodded.
I tried to think of something useful, then I remembered, "Don't step off the pedestal early, or they'll blow you up."
"Got it," Peeta mumbled.
The elevator stopped at the roof and opened the doors. We stepped out to the blazing sunlight. Peeta hesitated as I took his hand to look at me.
"Peeta, you can do this," I try to reassure. Then tapped his head, "Use your brains. Use your surroundings."
"Thanks," Peeta said.
Unable to hold it in, I hugged him one more time and pecked his forehead. He needs to know that someone cares for him. That someone does have his back. His family might have given up on him. Haymitch might have given up on him. But I won't.
Peeta is my tribute, and I'll do whatever it takes to bring him home.
With another kiss on his forehead, I let him go.
Peeta's eyes water, but he does not shed a tear. With a deep breath, he made his way to the hovercraft. He walked over till reaching the hovercraft before turning around and facing me. I kissed my three fingers, giving him the salute, letting him know that someone cared for him. Peeta gave a small smile, nodding his head, before going inside.
A sob escaped my lips, making this the ninth time I've watched a tribute being sent to the slaughter. I was there for each of the tributes for my district. I was the one to see them off and show them the last compassion from home. I wasn't religious, but during these moments, I prayed to deaf ears to spare my tributes.
I took a deep breath and went back inside, going back to the penthouse. Once inside, I saw Haymitch dressed and sober.
"You've sent Peeta?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I answered.
A peacekeeper made his way over to me, "Your ride is here."
"Now?" I asked, baffled at how early it was. "I have one more tribute to send."
"President Snow wishes to see you now." The Peacekeeper informed.
I bit my lip and stared at Haymitch, who frowned at this. Haymitch is aware that President Snow calls upon victors. He knows something is happening to me. Yet he doesn't know what it is. He knows I'm being prostituted but knows I can't refuse. For if I did, it would put his life in danger. But it was more than that. If I dare refuse, President Snow will go after the tributes, the tributes' families, and most of all, District 12.
One time, I refused President Snow on a client, resulting in a mining accident. I was only seventeen at the time, just turned victor. And I declined President Snow because I was not sound of mind. There haven't been massive explosions ever since. That was almost five years ago. And because of that, I do whatever it takes to protect my district.
Haymitch sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder, "I'll take care of Katniss."
I hesitated but nodded. I hug Haymitch before following the Peacekeeper, who leads me downstairs and into the limo.
.o0o.
I was escorted through the President's Gardens. President Snow tends to enjoy his garden, surrounded by white roses. There was even a greenhouse in the gardens, but since it was the summertime, the weather was nice and clear, the president decided to meet here.
I didn't like these sudden requests or private meetings. Since most of the meetings consist of me making more money for him from his clients. Clients who are from the founding families of the Capitol or very rich. He told me Augusta Flickerman bought my virginity in the gardens. In the garden, he told me to spy and report on Xavier Varick, a journalist. In the garden, when important news was given, a message on a tablet or a phone call wasn't enough.
On the other side of the garden, I saw President Snow tending a white rose bush. I walked up to him and waited until he was done. You never interfere with President Snow's gardening; otherwise, you must do more work. Ten minutes later, the old man rose and sat on the marble bench.
"Good morning, Blaine." President Snow greeted. "And happy Hunger Games."
"Good morning, sir," I said, not too pleased that today was the Hunger Games.
President Snow nodded his head to the guard, who saluted before leaving, giving us privacy. It was nine o'clock in the morning, and I only had time to wish Peeta farewell. It was eating me that I did not get a chance to say goodbye to Katniss, and I hope she can forgive me for that. Even though the Girl on Fire and I have our moments, we have become friends.
"Have a seat," he gestured to sit next to him, which I obeyed.
The smell of blood filled my nose and along with his genetically altered rose perfume.
Finnick likes to call President Snow a snake. Even looking into the man's eyes, they were slanted like a serpent. But his eyes weren't the reason for the characteristic. Like all people, we have a specific weapon. We may not know it by words, a gun, wires, or a sword. President Snow, on the other hand, his weapon was poison.
President Snow poisons his allies, whom he believes will become his future foes, except he drinks the poison to prevent suspicion. Even though he takes the antidotes, the poison causes permanent sores inside his throat, impossible to heal. That is why he always wears a genetically engineered rose to cover the scent of blood on his breath. Another reason, I have to fold countless times in this Game.
"Your tributes this year are interesting." He noted. "Very spontaneous."
"Yes, I didn't expect it either, sir, including Miss Everdeen," I said, sounding formal.
"Agreed, along with Mr. Mellark's love confession," Snow said. "Tell me, Blaine, did you know anything about this?"
"To be quite honest, sir, I didn't suspect a thing," I replied. "I noted the boy was compassionate over Miss Everdeen, but not suspected in a romantic way."
"I see," President Snow said as he picked up a rose and started cutting off the thorns. "Do you know why we have a Winner?"
"To see who is the best," I nervously replied.
Many of us wonder why the Capitol holds these Games. It was pure punishment for killing children in the eyes of the districts. They could easily select us to go to the gallows and then be executed live on television. The Capitol has a sick mind, indeed. Watching children fight to the death like gladiators.
President Snow chuckled. "Like I told Seneca, Hope."
"Hope," I repeated.
"Hope, it's the only thing stronger than fear." President Snow explained, going back to his rose. "A little hope is affected. A lot of hope is dangerous. A spark is fine as long as it is contained."
". . . I – I don't quite understand it, sir. Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
"Thought you might like to know." He answered. "Now, back to business."
I gulped.
"I have been taking a look at your profiting the past year, and the record shows you make more money in singing than being an escort. I think it's time to focus on the music industry more than pleasing certain individuals." President Snow announced. "Along with commercials and modeling. Your new stylist has interested many of the female population. So, let's stay in the publicity world if that is alright with you, Blaine."
I tried to hide my shock. Did President Snow say I would no longer be a prostitute? No longer will a person pay to sleep with me. No longer will I be raped. However, I know there is a catch. Not everything is given so freely.
"Also," President Snow continued. "It seems rumors are spreading about why you don't have a boyfriend, Blaine. Care to explain?"
"Um, just been busy," I lied. "Not a lot of men in District Twelve, you know…them mining for coal and such."
"I see. Well, since you would probably be living in the Capitol more often. Try to socialize even more. It might rile the citizens in your love affairs." Snow said. "Especially your relationship with Seneca Crane. He does have a strong interest in you."
Wait… for what! I thought, dumbfounded. Is President Snow saying I should start forming a relationship?
But most importantly, I will be living in the Capitol more often.
"Excuse me, sir, did you say I will live in the Capitol more often?" I asked.
"Yes, yes, I have." President Snow confirmed. "If you find a man of your interest here, might as well make you a citizen of the Capitol. And if you do marry a Capitol man, it still wouldn't remove you from your Victors duties, such as the Hunger Games and finding Sponsors."
"And you prefer Seneca Crane," I added since he mentioned him.
I had a feeling this was going to be another mission.
"He holds quite an interest in you," he murmured. "And from what I hear, you two get along quite well. Almost romantically."
I try not to comment that Seneca and I had a good relationship…intimately. It is complicated since Seneca wanted more and…I saw things differently. If President Snow decided to marry us, Seneca would be a better fit than any man from the Capitol. However, I would be marrying the man who is killing the tributes in his own design.
"There are other men, too. You have left quite an impression," he added. "I caution you, choose wisely."
After he said that, he handed me the rose. I kindly accepted it, taking hold of the beauty before I winced, pulling my hands back as the rose's thorn cut my fingers. Blood oozed out and dripped on the rose. I flinched, staring at the red-on-white. Dark memories of the sixty-ninth annual Hunger Games flash before my eyes. Watching the blood slide down the petal, tainting the white surface like it did on the mountains.
"Careful. Even the simplest of things can hold a sharp tip." President Snow said as he handed me a handkerchief.
Blinking several times from the daze, I accepted his offer and wiped the blood off my finger. Afterward, we headed inside. I was kindly asked to have brunch with President Snow and his granddaughter. Brunch took place in the sunroom, where Ceres, President Snow's granddaughter, greeted us.
"Blaine, I didn't know you'll be here," Ceres cheered as she made her way over, giving a hug.
I forced a fake smile, "Your grandfather invited me for brunch. I hope you don't mind."
Ceres grinned and hugged her grandfather, "Thank you."
"It's the least I can do," President Snow said with a sincere smile.
We sat down at the table, where food was being served. President Snow didn't talk much after that. Ceres was a huge fan of my work. She was not like most children from the Capitol. Despite being a dictator's granddaughter, she was sweet and gentle. Ceres always announced she was my biggest fan, and I would say thank you and sign whatever object's she would give me. Sometimes I would give her singing lessons. Other times, I would be her birthday gift from her grandfather for her spectacular parties. All this for the thirteen-year-old girl who doesn't understand the truth in life.
I sighed, taking a sip of tea when eleven o'clock struck on the clock. I stiffened, for it was almost time for the Games to begin.
"Blaine, would you like to stay and watch the opening with us?" Ceres asked.
"I don't know, Ceres," I said. "It's up to your grandfather."
"Oh please, please, please," as she used her pink puppy eyes. "Pretty please."
President Snow gave a chuckle, "I insist Blaine, join us."
I sighed but nodded. What choice do I have? After finishing our tea, we went towards the entertainment room. President Snow sat on his white chair while Ceres dragged me to the couch. She was ecstatic about the games as she curled next to me, resting her head on my arm. Bragging about the Careers, guessing who would win and who would die first. I felt nauseated, close to vomiting, as the Capitol seal came on along the holographic screen with Caesar Flickerman, going over last night's interviews and the scores.
I should be with Haymitch. I should be at the Bettings with the other Victors to lend support. I should be sitting with sponsors trying to get more money for Peeta. Not here entertaining President Snow and his granddaughter. I partially glanced at him, who found amusement in my inner turmoil.
Then it was time.
The arena contained forests, streams, and meadows. The return of the classical forest, except with a twist, for they added a wheat field near a large lake by the Cornucopia. Though the Cornucopia was no longer the golden horn like before. For the past three years, after Seneca took the lead as Head Gamemaker, he replaced the Cornucopia to be sleek, stainless steel that was a bit modernized. Some say the traditional horn was out of style.
The platforms raised, and I felt my stomach tighten with butterflies.
I hated this part of the Game.
The first official kill was the Bloodbath.
The twenty-four platforms rise to reveal the tributes. Katniss and Peeta were five tributes' apart. So far, Katniss has been in her environment and has the upper hand. Except for looking at the horn, I saw it. A bow. Crap!
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!" Claudius Templesmith exclaimed in pure excitement.
One minute left, and I so badly wanted to find a corner and look away. I hated this part of the Game, and many knew of that. A flash of blood splatter on the white sent a shiver down my spine. I blinked, remembering I was not in the mountains but in President Snow's mansion.
I had no problems at the sight of blood. But when it's the Bloodbath, I just want to vomit. And President Snow knew that as he watched me. I took a few deep breaths until it was the ten-second mark. Here it comes, and I'm forced to watch it. As the infamous countdown began to count.
"Five, four, three," Ceres started counting. "Two, one!"
The gong rang!
Peeta took off, he grabbed a knife off the ground, and ran into the forest. That led only Katniss as she ran to the Cornucopia.
What the hell is she doing? I mentally screamed. That idiot!
Then she dodged it, running towards the outer area, and grabbing an orange backpack. As she got it on, a boy from District 9 attacked her. They fought for the bag until he paused, spewing blood onto Katniss's face. When he collapsed onto the ground, a knife was in his back. Clove was ten meters away with a mischievous smirk while holding another knife.
I bit my lips from screaming at the screen for Katniss to run. To get the hell out as Ceres cheered the Career girl on. When Clove started chasing after Katniss, she ran out just in time before the career got to her. Clove frowned before going back to the Bloodbath.
Katniss ran, tripping over rocks and roots, falling down a ditch before colliding with Jacqueline. The fox girl was spooked at first, staring at Katniss before they ran in different directions. After that, the cameras went back to the Bloodbath. I watch the Careers in horror. To see them quickly killing off the weaker tributes.
That was when I saw a boy from District 4, who was about thirteen, hide behind a crate until Cato came up to him with a sword. Looking into his eyes, I could tell he was lost in his bloodlust. The boy from District 4 was confused about seeing a career before him. Until Cato killed him, thrusting the sword into the boy's chest.
I gasped, and immediately my hand covered Ceres's eyes. It was too much for a girl her age to see. The girl protested as I glared at President Snow, who seemed amused. How can he let his own granddaughter watch this Game? A boy around her age was killed! However, Ceres forced my hand down, cheering for the Careers.
.o0o.
Twenty minutes later, the Bloodbath was over. I took in another deep breath and announced I should get going. President Snow nodded as an Avox escorted me out.
Hermes, the limo driver, was there as he opened the door, letting me in. I told him to take me to the Training Center. He nodded, closed the door, and took the driver seat driving us back to the center. I leaned against the leather chair, trying to control my body as a panic attack tried to seep in. I closed my eyes, trying to think of good memories. Trying to remember my childhood withLucy. Mumbling a song to calm my nerves:
Down in the valley, valley so low,
Late in the evening, hear the train blow.
The train, love, hear the train blow.
Late in the evening, hear the train blow.
Go build me a mansion, build it so high,
So I can see my true love go by.
See him go by, love, see him go by.
So I can see my true love go by.
I murmured the song "Down to the Valley" to myself, humming the tune that reduced my sick feeling. It was only a short time before Hermes reached our destination. I thanked him, rushing out and putting the mask on as I ran inside the Training Center. Fortunately, no one stopped me. Once I got to the twelfth floor, I ran to the closest bathroom and vomited. The disgusting taste reminded me why I should hate the Capitol. Why are they barbaric and mad! Except I couldn't! Something told me not to hate the citizens but their government. I despised President Snow with all my heart. Even though I am on a longer leash, he still holds it.
A cold, damp rag was placed over my neck. I tensed, peeking from the corner of my eye to see the red
Avox girl. She didn't hold sympathy or pity in her expression, only concern.
After vomiting, I flushed the toilet and sat on the lid. The Avox girl removed the rag and handed me a glass of water. I took a small sip and stared at her.
"Thanks," I said.
She smiled and left to do whatever chores she was assigned to do. I sighed, shaking my head. This country is corrupt in all shapes and forms. First, the Hunger Games, then capital punishment, and finally, marketing. This is the Capitol. It's a messed-up city.
What can you do about it?
Down in the Valley- By Suzan Collin originally sung by Lucy Gray Baird
What do you all think of this change?
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!