Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Chapter 21: The Ruler and the Killer

Blaine's POV

The following day I lay in bed, lost in thought. I couldn't understand what I was doing from all the information that had smacked me in the face. Cinna's letter in hand from his apology and wanting to be friends…but how he wrote it said something else. I like Cinna dearly, but what I'm feeling right now is different. Yes, I was infatuated with him now than I did before. He catches my attention, contrasting everyone in the Capitol. He knows me better than I know myself like he could see my confusion. How I was alone with hardly anybody by my side. To focus on others instead of myself after my mother, Lucy, died.

I rolled on my stomach and stared at Midnight, who looked at me curiously. I reached up to pet his head. "If only you could talk, my friend."

Midnight meowed and nudged his head into my hand, purring like any cat. I smiled and got up and prepared for the day. Maybe I should let Cinna in and be friends? See how it goes from there in this platonic relationship.

Anyway, I ordered Midnight his usual breakfast before getting ready. Followed by keeping Cinna's letter in my journal and hiding it. Once done with that, I started my morning routine.

Once done with the bathroom, I dressed in a black knee-length skirt with a short slit and asymmetric hemline. It had a high neckline with scalloped detailing, geometric cutouts on the shoulders, and short sleeves. Followed by metallic embellishment. I did simple makeup with a cat eye and red lips. My hair curled slightly, along with basic heels. After getting ready, I grabbed my purse and headed out to see Haymitch having breakfast.

"I see you're awake," Haymitch replied as I sat down.

I shrugged and grabbed a cup of hot chocolate and a cinnamon roll. We ate silently until the elevator door opened, and Cinna came in with a new outfit. I wonder if he has another hobby instead of fashion, for most of his encounters consist of him holding a new outfit. He tensed and looked at me while I focused on my food. Cinna sighed, headed to Haymitch's room to drop off the suit, and then headed out, but I stopped him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" I asked, holding out his locket.

Cinna climbed up the stairs to the dining room. He stared at the locket before retrieving the golden jewelry. The moment he grabbed hold of it, I grabbed his wrist. Cinna paused as he stared at me with caution.

"Are you busy today? I asked.

"No," Cinna answered.

"Would you like to accompany us to get Sponsors?" I offered.

Haymitch choked on his spiked juice, eyes widening in disbelief at what was happening between us. I held a neutral expression, letting go of Cinna's hand, and sipped my hot chocolate. Cinna was neutral for a moment, then nodded. He took a seat and made himself comfortable, making himself some breakfast. Nothing was said in peaceful silence.

That was all that was needed to start our friendship. He was part of the team, an ally, and a friend in helping District 12 in getting a Victor. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Cinna smile. It was small, but it was the smile he used to give me over a decade ago.

.o0o.

Throughout the Bettings, things were getting intense as we were now in the final five. Let alone it being day fifteen in the arena. It was around this time the games started wrapping up. The Game makers tried to make the Hunger Games from the reaping to the victor's ceremony within a month. There was one time the game in the arena lasted thirty days.

If I recall correctly, the shortest game was the tenth Hunger Games. The Game Lucy Gray Baird won, the first victor for District 12. Although, that came with complications when the Gamemakers allowed students from the Capitol Academy to be mentors. Followed by a bombing in the Capitol arena that was once the original. Mentors and tributes were killed or dying, and only fifteen went in. The game only lasted five days.

During a date with Seneca, he went over the history of the Hunger Games. He talked about a relative who was one of the first mentors for the tenth Hunger Games. An eighteen-year-old girl named Arachne Crane. Her tribute was a girl from District 10.

He talked about how the 10th Hunger Games was the start of having mentors. Also, the beginning of Sponsors and gifts. Back then, Citizens from the Capitol could send money either at the post office or by phone. Seneca continued to explain that the tributes in the first nine games went straight to the arena after the reaping. However, in the tenth, the tributes were placed in the zoo….in the monkey cages where the citizens could observe. Two of the mentors started bringing food, and soon the people did as well.

Seneca said his grandmother told him Arachne was a generous young woman feeding her tribute a sandwich. Yet, the girl from District 10 grabbed a knife and slit Arachne's throat in front of everyone. Peacekeepers shot the girl, yet Arachne died before the medics could arrive.

I felt like there was more to the story, that Seneca had left out or his grandmother did. It horrified me that the tributes were put in cages, being presented like some animals. How those tributes were starving, wasting away while everyone watched you dying ever so slowly. Seneca then added on that there were bombings as well. The rebels had snuck in and laced bombs in the arena that killed more children.

In the end, nine tributes and four mentors were killed before the games began. Leaving fifteen tributes entering the arena already traumatized from the war. All the tributes were either one years old or nine when the war came to an end, and they had suffered for it.

Everyone suffered for it.

The mentors were just children.

The tributes were just children.

And the Gamemakers allowed it.

I shook my head and focused on this morning. When arriving at the Bettings, there were interviews, with Caesar out of the booth asking questions. Usually, a mentor focuses on one tribute, yet two mentors are being interviewed. Caesar started with Enobaria and Brutus for Cato. Porter and Elec for Jaqueline. Seeder and Chaff for Thresh. And Haymitch and I for the Star-Crossed Lovers.

Haymitch was presentable this time, all cleaned and groomed. I was relieved when the camera was on our faces. Haymitch gestured to me to do the talking, which I gladly did.

"Blaine, seeing District 12 in the final five is exciting. How does it make you feel?" Caesar asked.

"I'm excited and nervous all at the same time," I answered.

"Yes, the last time District 12 made it this far was your game," Caesar reminded.

"Indeed," I confirmed, which Haymitch grunted.

"Still, do you think the Star-Crossed Lovers will make it to the final two?" he asked.

"Only time will tell," I answered. "I am most thankful for the Capitol and the Gamemakers in providing the medicine Peeta needed in order to survive."

"You are most welcome," Caesar smiled.

Caesar continued to ask me questions which I did my best to answer.

I then faced the camera, "District 12 will need your help supporting the Star-Crossed Lovers. It's not over until the Mockingjay sings."

I smiled, waving at the camera, but inside, I scolded myself for the last part. It was a phrase rarely spoken in District 12, specifically after an execution. The older folk said back in the day the execution was done at the Hanging Tree, and the mockingjays would sing the songs of the dead's final words. But most of all, when the jabberjays repeat the exact words. It was a nightmare for all.

A song was made of those dark memories, yet no one dares sing that song in public. My mother taught me the song but warned me never to sing it aloud. It was something special, especially to my grandmother.

Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

Where they strung up a man, they say murdered three.

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,

If we met, up at Midnight, in the hanging tree.

I shook my head, not continuing the song that whispers in my ears.

As my tablet dings in sponsors.

.o0o.

A storm cascaded over the arena. Most tributes took shelter while Cato hunted Thresh down for revenge. Cinna and I talked with a few Sponsors interested in the Star-Crossed Lovers after Peeta woke up and cared for Katniss. It was a miracle that Katniss got the medicine before the blood poisoning triggered his canon. For yesterday they talked and took shifts on guard duty. They spoke about the feast and Thresh, debts that come in small favors, and how they will try to stay alive.

Also, they were starving.

Haymitch and I needed more money to contribute a decent amount of food with both fundings. The downside of the Tribute stores is that prices keep going up. One moment, you had the money to buy bread; the next, it tripled in cost. It was annoying, and even though we have over a million dollars, the simple prices of food and water are rising. Then again, the Gamemakers were trying to round up the game.

I don't know how Haymitch could afford the gifts he got me after I killed Static. Especially the dagger, coat, and cloak. Haymitch barely talked about it. It was a dark day for both of us as I killed three tributes in less than twenty-four hours and comforted Michael, who was dying. All Haymitch said was a private organization funded that gift basket. Haymitch made it sound like he sold his soul to the devil.

Whoever the private organization was, I have yet to meet them.

Anyway, we were in the lead of earning sponsors when Cato got his bearings and started hunting Thresh down. Revenge and honor were a crowd favorite that was pointless. Thankfully, our tributes were not in harm's way…for now. We were over a million as I tried to assemble a food basket. However, with each passing moment, the prices were rising. The Hob was cheaper than this.

I wanted to send it now while it was cheap, except Haymitch, who wanted more in this game from Katniss. Even though the physical affection slowly brings up the sponsors, it isn't enough for him. "I need something more personal."

I said nothing as we sat in the far corner of the Betting's lounge, watching the game while I held the tablet. On the screen was an order of a basket of food containing lamb stew, goat cheese, bread, apples, and water. I am just waiting to press send when we get over two million to spend half of the account.

The star-crossed lovers were sitting by the entrance watching the rain pour down. Katniss took a deep breath and spoke. "Peeta. You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"

Instantly the numbers started to slowly rise on sponsors.

"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress, and your hair… it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up," Peeta said.

"Your father? Why?" Katniss asked.

"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," Peeta explained.

"What? You're making that up!" Katniss exclaimed.

"No. True story," Peeta chuckled with a small smile. "And I said.' A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could have you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen.'"

"That's true. They do. I mean, they did," Katniss corrected. Her father must be a sensitive subject. I never met Mr. Everdeen, but a few people could catch attention with such a rhythm or melody to be in a trance. Like how Katniss sang Rue to her death.

Like father, like daughter, I thought.

"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot straight up in the air. She stood you up on the stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the window fell silent," Peeta said smoothly.

"Oh, please," Katniss laughed, shaking her head from his statement.

"No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew - just like your mother - I was a goner," Peeta replied, looking at her. "Then the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."

"He really is a love-sick puppy," I said to Haymitch.

Haymitch nodded, taking a sip from his flask.

"There is nothing wrong with that," Cinna stated as if he knew from experience.

I paused, staring at him, recalling the locket that he wears.

"…. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck," Peeta nodded.

The tributes' banking accounts reached over two million. I was about to press send when Haymitch grabbed my hand, stopping me. I was about to protest. They were starving and trapped in their cave, unable to hunt under terrible weather. But dad shook his head, pointing at Katniss. He wanted her to say the right words, to play along.

"You have a…remarkable memory," she said haltingly.

"I remember everything about you," Peeta replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

Katniss leaned into his touch. "I am now."

"Well, I don't have much competition here," he said.

Knowing Katniss, she would want to draw away, for she was close to shuttering again. However, Haymitch glared at her, saying in a harsh whisper. "Say it! Say it!"

Katniss swallowed hard and said what Haymitch wanted her to say. "You don't have much competition anywhere."

Haymitch grabbed the tablet and pressed send as the tributes fell into a kiss. Haymitch sighed proudly as he shoved the electronic device into my abdomen. A groan escaped from the corner edge pressing to my abdomen as I grabbed the delicate device. Cinna placed a hand on my shoulder, baffled by Haymitch's actions.

When they pulled back, the parachute landed outside their cave with a loud clunk scaring them. Katniss grabbed her bow, ready to fire. However, Peeta peered through the entrance, jumped out to fetch the basket, and gave a solid whoop.

"I guess Haymitch and Blaine finally got tired of watching us starve," Peeta said happily, like it was a sunny day.

"I guess so," Katniss replied.

Haymitch held a smug look, if not exasperated, his words, "Yes, that's what I'm looking for, sweetheart."

"Since when are you into romance?" I asked sarcastically while rubbing my injured stomach.

"Since now," Haymitch replied.

.o0o.

Revenge.

Revenge was a strong word compared to its virtue. It's a dedicated word to the profound tributes in the games. When your partner is killed in the alliances, you go into shock or instincts until reality returns to your catatonic mind. The first emotions would be vindictive, compassion, pain, and rage. The submissive mental stability is oppressed by the feelings that revenge creates.

Pure hatred and despair that all you could see was red.

And to a Career, revenge was substantiated in their vocabulary.

If you are a Career and your district partner died from a tribute that wasn't a Career or you, you seek justice. Or that's how they put it…justice. Cato was furious as he hunted Thresh down. It wasn't shown a lot, but there was a moment of a connection going on between Clove and Cato before her untimely death.

Guessing they trained together and held a strong friendship. Now adding the new rule change was a relief and a goal. Not anymore.

I watched Cato chase Thresh through the rain of open fields close to the Cornucopia. The other day, Thresh threw District 2 gifts into the lake so the body armor couldn't be used. Leaving Cato a sword and spear as a weapon. The rain poured hard as lighting crossed the sky within the tempest. Cato wore his night vision goggles calling out Thresh's name. Shouting out to come and fight him like a man instead of being a coward. Thresh remained still in the wheat fields watching Cato's temper.

All around me were the Capitol citizens arranging their final bets and biddings. It was disgusting when I sat at the bar drinking a cosmopolitan. I needed a stiff drink, for I was trying to hold back the memories of hunting Static down and killing him after he used a garrote to sever Michael's neck. The phantom wire coiled around my hands, followed by the warmth of blood. The cold glass that held the beverage numbed the inviable pain.

Haymitch could hardly understand my feelings. Revenge kills were different from survival kills. All you want is conciliation, but you won't get it until the tribute that wronged you is dead. And the Gamemakers love it. They alter your surroundings to make it entertaining for all while the gambling continues. Money that makes the world go round in the tyrannical government that these knuckleheads can't think to understand. Money and ambition that's all the Hunger Games were about in this punishment.

"Disgusting," I muttered, spinning the ice inside my drink.

"One gimlet," Cinna ordered as he joined me at the bar, taking a seat. The bartender made his drink which Cinna paid for. "How are you?"

"Other than my tributes alive for another day…Peachy." I said sarcastically.

Cinna didn't respond when the television changed to show Cato and Thresh across from each other in a crop circle. Ironic. Thresh was a foot taller than Cato, if not more massive in muscle. However, Cato had skills and training for a situation like this. All in all, it wasn't going to be a clean fight.

"You kill Clove," Cato growled, loud against the thunder.

"She murdered Rue!" Thresh shouted back.

And so, the battle begins.

Thresh charged out with his sickle, only to be blocked by Cato's sword. With the sickle being a curve blade, Thresh parries' trapping the sword and tossing both blades into the tall wheat. Afterward, Thresh punched Cato hard in the jaw. Cato stumbled back, blocking Thresh's next blow with his free hand, and twisted the wrist. Thresh yelped in pain while the Career grimaced. The punch's force and quick capture were a painful blow mixed with the rainwater.

Next, Cato wrapped a foot around Thresh's leg and yanked it back, causing Thresh to trip. Thresh had other plans to drag Cato to the ground and wrestle in the mud. Punches, headbutts, and grips were entangled between the two. Rolling around like a bunch of animals.

Thresh tried punching while Cato ducked the heavy blows, then slipping around, unable to hold their balance. Cato was able to escape the wrestle to jump on his feet and started kicking Thresh in the back. Thresh growled, turning around with pure hatred as he charged at Cato and punched him hard in the jaw again. That type of force would have broken a jaw. The Career staggers back, placing a hand over his mouth to cough out blood.

Not good, I thought.

It is never a good sign when a Career sees their own blood.

I closed my eyes, looking away from the raging battle, and focused on my drink. Inside I was betting on Thresh to win. However, not all are what they seem when a cannon fires. Looking up at the monitor to see the winner of this brutal match. On the ground, dead with a broken neck, was Thresh. Cato hovered over him, panting with victory and pride in his eyes. As he stood up straight and gave a roar in the thunder.

The odds were now higher if there was a possible chance of Cato winning.

If he wins this game, I'll have a question for him…How does it feel?

Cato is not becoming a victor but a barbarian for what he put himself through. How does it feel to kill all those innocent children who were just like him? Young. He would give a haughty answer saying it was great. But once he turns his back, all those negative emotions will run back into his system with cold blood and cursed dreams. The nightmares of your victims screaming in your head, pleading to be spared. But you, the new victor, will become the animal, a pawn in the Capitol's games.

There was a phrase for us victors in our winnings.

The Ruler and the Killer

So, I have a question that has been bothering me. What do you think about Blaine being related to Lucy Gray or the Covey? Just a thought? Let me know in the review.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!