Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 24: Snow and Snakes

Blaine's POV

I stood in front of the mirror, straightening my hair before arranging it into a bun. Midnight lay on the counter, watching my every move while I did my finishing touches. I wasn't wearing the clothes Cinna or Portia created. It was like a uniform; one President Snow expected me to wear. It was custom to wear an outfit-a uniform for the Profit Circle, especially the inner ring. To dress as a sophisticated, elegant, glamorous, and mysterious attribute for President Snow.

Others must hide their true selves in a faction of deceptions. Our minds are the most dangerous thing to correspond with compared to our looks.

Given the longer leash, I may have been free in my private life of romance. No longer would I have a sexual encounter with a client, except President Snow could change his mind? Over the last five years, I have done more than sing and spread my legs. Even just doing those things combined.

President Snow saw the capabilities I possess and trained me for his game. If there was something he wanted, I had to get it. If there was a message to plague into the minds of his citizens, I'd sing it. All in all, I was being used in more ways than one. My body and my voice are a distraction to lure prey. Unlike Finnick's pleasure in confiscating secrets, I can manipulate my words slightly. However, the people who taught me were the only people who weren't frazil by my skills.

The garment I wore was a little black dress. It has a cowl scoop neckline, bead-embellished cap sleeves, and a gathered fitted bodice. The length didn't cover the yellow canary tattoo on my thigh, whose ankle had chains around it. I also put on a pair of black heels and simple makeup. Black was my given color, not because of the coal from District 12 or the mourning of myself. It symbolizes confidence, self-control, and resilience. Black denotes strength and authority. Although the power it contains, to me, it means secrecy, seriousness, underground, hiding, aggression, and survival. Giving off a mysterious aura around me that is heavy, dominating, and pervasive. The side of me I spent almost a decade accomplishing.

I petted Midnight's head and tapped his black nose. He wrinkled it before jumping off the sink to sleep in some random place. The loft was quiet since Peeta and Katniss were in the remake. Last night was traumatizing because of the terrible event of the mutts and other things.

Haymitch continues to fight with the remake doctors to not touch Katniss by any means necessary other than a clean slate. He didn't want them to surgically alter her body to be appealing. No, we just wanted her back to perfect health. Peeta, on the other hand, had it worse. The doctors couldn't save his left leg, so they had no choice but to amputate it.

We already knew that was a lie. The Capitol had the technology to fix anything to save an appendage. It was no use arguing. This was President Snow punishing the boy with ease. Make it seem natural. However, Katniss's punishment is undetermined. And this meeting might explain it.

Right now, I need to focus on the goal at hand. I hope President Snow hasn't changed his mind about my leash and bringing me back to prostitution. I spent the last three years abusing my body to survive and protect my District. But I don't want to go back to that lifestyle. I want control over my body. I sighed and grabbed the last thing I needed. Pulling out a rosin capsule holding a white rose corsage, that was the profit circle symbol.

.o0o.

Two Capitol guards escorted me down the halls of the President's mansion. No words were spoken as they led me to the office of the dictator of Panem. However, from the corner of my eye, I saw a small sunroom empty except for a table. On that table was a decorative crystal bowl where an Avox carefully poured black berries…Nightlock? I gulped silently and continued heading forward. Someone is going to die but whom? Once we reached the end of the hall, the guards opened the door and let me in.

I took a deep breath and wore my neutral mask, entering President Snow's office. The office was massive, with marble walls and black hardwood flooring. The walls were decorated with paintings and portraits that had survived the natural disasters before Panem. The center of the room was a massive red carpet with golden trim, the same design curtains that framed the enormous floor-to-ceiling window. Followed by the crystal chandeliers. Meanwhile, on the far end was a large desk of wood and stone in front of a fireplace with a mantle of a golden eagle. This room defines power and corruption.

There were two plush chairs as President Snow sat there rewatching the game's final moments on a holographic screen. I stood on the other side, waiting for further instructions. It was a serious matter when President Snow summoned you to his office. Not in the rose garden where his instructions are simple.

I could smell the signature scent of roses and blood. I noticed on the desk were two tea cups. My chest tightened as anxiety started to build up. It is never safe to be in a room with two glasses. President Snow had a weapon. And his weapon is poison, which he is not afraid to drink to trick his enemies. But I got a better look to see they were teacups, not champagne glasses.

"Give me a moment," he said as he stared at the holographic.

I watched to see it was the moment Katniss pulled out the nightlock and gave half the amount to Peeta. He then turned around, and I stared at the serpent eyes of President Snow.

"I think we'll make this whole situation much simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other," he said.

"Understood, sir," I said with a nod.

President Snow smiled, knowing how I am a conformist. I never lie and remain honest so that there is a limited amount of bloodshed from my actions. At least with him. You mustn't underestimate him; he has the power, intelligence, and will to make hell happen. He gestured for me to sit down, so I followed his command. I sat correctly and looked into his eyes.

"I know you won't be difficult for me, Blaine." He murmured. "You are one of my trusted subordinates."

"Thank you, sir," I replied.

"I have a problem, Blaine," President Snow said. "A problem that began the moment Miss Everdeen pulled out those poisonous berries in the arena."

"Her actions were irrational," I said calmly.

"Yes, but I want to confirm the relationship between her and Mr. Mellark." he inquired.

I gulped, knowing I'll betray my tributes but must follow protocol. "She doesn't love him. The Star-crossed lovers were an ideal concept so they could earn more sponsors. Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, has been in love with her since he was a child. We considered the plot that only one of them returns as the victor. The curveball of the rule change was not what we suspected."

"If Head Gamermaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he would have blown her to dust right then." President Snow said.

I bit my tongue to realize who President Snow was going to execute. Seneca Crane broke the tradition of the Hunger Games and let two children make fun of the Capitol. I may not have the same feelings for the man, but I respected him as one of my friends.

"Miss Everdeen was pretty good, too, with the love-crazed schoolgirl bit. The people in the Capitol were quite convinced. Unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for the act." He added, reaching for a cup full of tea.

My expression remained neutral while inside my head was bewilderment. He smiled and handed me a cup of tea. Kindly appreciate the gesture of picking up the porcelain and sniffing it. The fragrances were herbal, with a strong scent of cinnamon. It was impossible to smell the chemicals of poison.

"You believe there might be another uprising?" I asked, not taking a sip.

"Not yet. But they'll follow if the courses of things change. And an uprising has been known to lead to revolutions." President Snow rubbed over his left eyebrow. "You know what that would mean."

Chaos, I thought.

President Snow has told me of the three words that define Panem: Chaos, Control, and Contract.

And chaos would result in more lives being killed. The aftermath of the war of human nature to the prosaic terms of the state of nature. Panem was under the social contract of a voluntary agreement towards the government's adequate power to secure mutual protection and welfare. Since the Capitol doesn't want to referee a social conflict that would create the Dark Days again. The entire nation would collapse if the Capitol lost its grip on the districts for a short period.

"Yes, sir," I replied. "I know what you mean. But what do you want me to do, Mr. President. Katniss Everdeen is a stubborn girl who won't listen unless coaxed?"

"Is something wrong with your tea?" President Snow asked. "I assure you it's not poison."

I arched my brow. Then again, his poison doesn't do well with ceramic. It causes the glaze to peel off and stains the white pottery. There was a slight hint of truth in his voice and his posture. However, I was not in a controlled environment. If I refuse, there will be consequences.

I inhale sharply, taking a large sip of the tea. It was scalding that I nearly spat it up but managed to swallow. However, when I saw the cruel smile on his face, I knew I was in trouble. The flavor of herbs and cinnamon vanished and was replaced by something unexplainable. My mouth felt on fire while my tongue swelled. I coughed, grabbing my neck, feeling a burning sensation traveling down my throat and all the way to my stomach. It was too hot, something spicy reacting to my taste buds.

"Capsicum," President Snow announced. "Extracted from the nightshade family. Commonly in peppers, however, the Capitol scientist found a way to genetically enhance the Scoville. You are still useful even though your tribute has caused some trouble."

I continued to cough and tried to breathe from my nose, but breathing was difficult. Practically suffocating in the Capsicum reaction in my mouth and esophagus. The door next to the desk opened, and Damon came in holding a three-prong syringe. Damon grabbed my bun, forcing my head back before injecting it into my throat under the first layer of skin. I cried out in agony as the chemicals burned.

Fuck, I mentally screamed. It felt like I was being burned without a source. I fell out of my chair, on my hands and knees, yet one hand clenched at my neck. Desperately I tried to breathe, using breathing exercises, yet the pain made it difficult. As if my throat was on fire.

"Now, a matter of business," President Snow murmured as he stood up and walked around. "Your Stylist friend Cinna turned out to be prophetic in his wardrobe choice."

I looked at him in panic, for he brought Cinna into the discussion. He saw this and smiled, knowing he had found another source of weakness. "Seems you took my advice and caught the interest of a Capitol Citizen. Publicity, we don't want an accident now… do we?"

"Don't," I choked, doubling over trying to breathe. "Don't hurt him."

"If only it were that simple." He said, tucking a loose strand of hair out of my face. "I want you to spy on Katniss Everdeen. I want to know everything about her that I can use. Something that I can contain the inspiration of the Girl on Fire! The star-crossed lovers were just an act, so find me her weakness."

"Sister," I coughed, practically crying from the burning.

"Yes, her sister is one. But I want you to watch her thoroughly. Report on events, making sure the love is in progress. I'm only interested in how it affects her dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts."

I was dumbfounded by the events that had transpired with President Snow. Torturing me with chemicals for the punishment of Katniss's actions. My fear is the capability he can do. Most people would announce I have the advantage over height and physical power. But you don't know him or fear him like I do. The intellectual power leaves lessons that need to be learned unlearned. President Snow can see and understand everything.

I gave one more cough and looked at President Snow. "You want me to… spy on… Kat…niss?"

President Snow took a handkerchief and dabbed it on his lips. "Watch and report, which is all you have to do. It doesn't take you from your other obligations," He placed a hand on my shoulder. "I like you, Blaine, and you have good self-preservation that not all can contain."

I stared at him as the tears fell.

"You also reminded me of someone I once knew," he added. "Although, I was not afraid to get rid of her."

I inhale sharply.

There was a knock on the door, in which Damon walked over to answer. A Capitol Guard whispered something, and Damon nodded. He closed the door and turned to face us.

"President Snow, The Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, has arrived," Damon announced.

President Snow nodded, "It is a shame to waste such talent. Have the guards escort him to the sunroom."

"The one with the nightlock?" Damon asked to confirm.

President Snow nodded. My eyes widened in horror, realizing who was going to for this year's game. Seneca was going to be executed by the berries that Katniss used in the attempted suicide. My heart tightened as I faced the man. He stared down at me with disappointment.

"It's a shame, Seneca paid a lot of money to have you free. To be together," he murmured. "Enjoy the freedom he has given you for your body."

I held back a sob while glaring at President Snow. He did not seem phased as he left the office using the back door. I knelt there to absorb the information about what just happened. President Snow knew it was an act. He knew the futuristic outcomes if Katniss didn't cooperate with a possible rebellion. He tortures me with Capsicum instead of poison. I was alive, but Cinna's life was now in the game. My orders are to spy on Katniss Everdeen and report everything until further notice.

I felt disgusted and upset, knowing I would betray my tributes. All because of a handful of Nightlock berries. How President Snow consistently updates my relationship with his reconciliation. I know what he does and what he can do that is necessary to maintain power. To commit Genocide if needed to be in a threat that would ruin his monarchy. All is fake, given the character to play for the audience. We - I was a pawn in his game for the beginning between rook and knight.

Evil has no face or form. But if you have to choose an example, President Snow would take its description. However, he wasn't a threat to all humanity. But the mind's integrity restrained the society we live in. The mind was dangerous, a resultant parasite, an idea. A single idea from the mind can transform power and rewrite everything in history.

The two Capitol Guards came in and took me away. My throat burned, and my eyes clouded in the pain of the emotional and physical trauma. As I was being dragged away, I spotted Seneca enter the sunroom. My voice was gone, unable to cry out to him to not go in there. The man enters the room, and the Capitol Guard closes the door locking him in.

I sobbed, yet it came out as a whimper.

I had no choice but to follow orders to protect the people I loved. To protect my friends and allies. I have to prepare Katniss and Peeta. I need to train them in the next step of the Hunger Games.

For Katniss unknowingly entered the Snow Game.

.o0o.

I was escorted back to the Training Center as the peacekeepers dragged me into the elevator and pressed the button to the penthouse. The burning continued throughout my body. Nor has the water been provided since drinking the tea. I was in utter pain as tears continued to fall and my muscles tightened.

Once the doors opened, I stumbled into the loft to find it empty. It wasn't ten yet, so Haymitch must be asleep. My mouth was still burning while my throat was numb from the Capsicum. I headed toward the closest glass, chugging it down, only to realize it was a spirit. The result worsened the burning sensation, and I collapsed to my knees. Basically, gagging to the point I might vomit.

Adding pressure to my neck alleviated the pain, and I could breathe slightly.

"Blaine," Someone shouted out, running towards me. Haymitch yanked my hand away to see the damage.

"Da-" It hurt to speak as I continued to cry.

"What did he do to you?" Haymitch demanded.

"Ca-Caps…." I tried to say, panting hard. "Wa-wat…er"

Haymitch got the message and ran to grab some water. I chugged the cold drink down when he handed me the glass to feel relief. Although my mouth burned, I continued crying from the excruciating pain. Haymitch picked me up and held me as we sat on the couch. Like he used to when I was little. He rubbed my back and ordered the Avox to bring in more water or anything for my burnt mouth.

"What happens?"

"Snow…. is not…. happy," I cried. "He's not happy…. with Katniss."

Haymitch nodded, and we sat there trying to figure out what to do with our tributes. We have to protect them from the psychopathic mind of President Snow. I didn't tell him about the second part of the ordeal. How I have to spy on Katniss or Cinna would get hurt.

This was the dark side of the Profit Circle. You have to do whatever Snow says, and that's that. Already Seneca had paid the price and was now dead. Yet he paid for my sexual freedom too, so I wasn't a prostitute like Finnick, but I was still being used. Observations and manipulation can be deadly weapons to get secrets, and secrets are more valuable than gold.

The red avox returned with ice water, milk, and bread. I consumed it all, as it reduced the burning in my mouth and stomach. However, it does not stop the burning sensation around my neck upon my skin.

"Go get some rest," Haymitch suggested.

I nodded and walked into my room, and started a shower. When I undressed, I heard Midnight jumping on the bed, crumpling paper. I don't recall setting paper on the bed. I walked out to find a letter. It was sealed in a black envelope, seeing it at an embossed design on the front, along with a grayish-white pattern along the raised lines. I picked it up, tracing along it to see it was a bird. A bird with a white crest and white tip wings.

Flipping it over to see a white wax seal but no indent to address who it was from. Cautiously, I open the enveloped to pull out an ivory card with words written in red ink:

"oBEdience

poWer

grAin

agricultuRE

commiTment

fisHing

couragE

QUAlification

transpoRTation

lumbER

eQUity

tExtiles

aLLegiance

All is not lost

-JJ"

"What the hell does this mean?" I asked Midnight, who shrugged.

Shaking my head from all the drama that's been going on and the burning pain in the back of my throat, I put the letter in my journal. Whoever JJ was, he was one crazy person to write that down. All riddles of nonsense. So, standing under the cold shower, I sighed from the heat in my throat.

"There is no end."

Until I realized, certain letters were capitalized. Stepping out of the shower, I ran back to the bedroom to grab my journal and pen, I started writing the letters to find the message in what JJ wanted to say:

BEWARE THE QUARTER QUELL

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