Her feet padded quietly along the concrete floor of the tunnel, axe held in a permanent combative position should she be ambushed by tributes. The zips on her suit remained unzipped, the cool air of the tunnel soothing on her exposed skin, a welcome contrast to the sweltering heat and sticky humidity of the swamp.
The overall lack of flies was also a pleasant change, although the droning hum of the insects did usually give her mind something to focus on instead of the threats of the arena.
The near silence was eerie, Hebe's life for the last few weeks had been constantly moving, always abuzz. But now all she heard was the squeaking of her leather shoes on the cold, grey concrete.
She yet again silently wished for company, for this was the first time she had been alone in the games. There was no longer anyone watching her back, no longer anyone to plot to murder, no longer anyone to mourn. Hebe was an empty vessel, a lone drifter, floating along concrete tunnels like a ghost, haunting the arena with all that she had seen and done.
Hebe walked through the tunnels for what could've been an age, no way of knowing what was going on on the surface, the thick layers of stone providing a sound proof barrier that even the cannons could not penetrate. That's what she thought anyway.
It also blocked her from the sun, from the time, from the feeling of the breeze on her face or the sound of squelching mud. All things she had become accustomed to in this place, all comforts that she hated to be ripped away from her. At first the tunnels had seemed like her salvation, but now they were a living nightmare, stretching on forever, never changing.
Maybe she'd never escape, she'd be stuck down here forever. It would be dehydration that got her, the thirst in her throat would transform into a ravenous need for water, one that would kill her. Her skin would dry up, her entire body withering until she eventually perished. Hebe had seen it happen in other games.
Soon these thoughts conjured a dryness in the back of her throat that just wouldn't go away, no matter how much she tried to cough her guts up. She laughed at how poetic it was, she was going to die from the first case of psychosomatic dehydration.
Just when she began to lose hope she reached a crossroads, two doors opposite each other, a ladder situated in the middle of the corridor leading out. Her first instinct was to rush up the ladder, escape the tunnels. But then she thought of what could be inside the rooms, imagining mountains of weapons and supplies. Without another thought she burst through the door on the left, desperate to find whatever lay inside.
But instead of anything useful, she was met with the sight of a girl. Her blonde hair was tousled and wild, her eyes beady and red, ringed with dark circles. She leaned over a boy, clutching him tightly, stroking his cheek and cradling him in her arms like a mother would her child. He was pale and looked cold, dead. He had a large jagged gash in his bicep, small indents circling it.
Then Hebe looked at his foot, a stark feeling of realisation taking hold of her as she observed the large hole in the ankle, the wound tinged a yellow-green colour. It was Ampere, dead from a wound that she had watched Verity inflict the day before. Hebe felt guilt wash over her, knowing that in some ways she had been an accomplice to his death.
The girl hunched over him must be Lilac. Her heart filled with pity at the sight of the damaged girl, so mentally ruined that she hadn't even acknowledged another presence in the room.
It was then that Hebe noticed the unnatural redness of her lips, the stream of blood dripping down her chin. She then looked back to his gash and the surrounding indents. Teeth marks.
Lilac had begun to cannibalise her dead district mate, had torn his flesh with her teeth, chewed and swallowed it, sent it down to her digestive system like she would any old meal.
Cannibalism wasn't overly common in the games, despite their nature. It seemed that something in the human condition prevented many from actually doing it, some last sense of morality in a place that aimed to strip them of just that. Although many speculated that it was more widespread than it seemed, and that the Capitol chose to cut to a different part of the arena when it happened. After all, we can't have the picture perfect tributes eating their allies, can we? How barbaric!
Hebe had never thought she'd really see such a display of animalistic intent, the horrors of the games alway flying over her head. All she fantasised about was her glorious victory, not watching a girl devour a boy's arm.
She stumbled back in pure shock, the ringing of metal from her back hitting the door finally alerting Lilac to her presence in the room, the girl's head snapping upwards to stare at her intruder.
Lilac's eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, struggling to find the words to describe the unique situation they found herself in. She gestured wildly toward Ampere, her body tense as she glared at Hebe.
"You… You killed him!" She eventually found the words she wanted, nose running as streams of tears ran down her face.
Hebe could only stare at her as she began sobbing and wailing, clearly unaware of the chunk she had ripped out of his flesh. She felt a bubble of jealousy at how easy it was for her to block out her sins.
Then the girl began clawing at herself, at the boy, at the floor, anything she could get some kind of grip on. Hebe backed away, making a move to leave, not wanting to watch the girl breakdown any further.
She tried to move slowly, treating the girl like a skittish animal, not wanting to make any sudden movements. This time however, Lilac had her gaze fixed firmly on the girl in front of her, lunging forward and attacking her leg, elbowing her hard in the stomach.
Hebe was winded, but her instincts kicked in, grabbing the younger girl by the hair and slamming her into the wall. She tried to do it hard enough that she would be knocked out, but she seemed to have a surprisingly thick skull because she stumbled back up and grabbed a small dagger from beside Ampere.
Lilac held up the weapon in triumph, watching as the blade glinted in the light. Hebe swallowed hard, hesitant to strike down the girl where she stood, after all, she was not in her right mind. But the choice was clear, it was Lilac or Hebe, and she had no intention of losing to some dehydrated cannibal from district 3.
Hebe rushed forward at the smaller girl, holding her axe out and digging it directly in between her ribcage. The dagger fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor. Lilac began gurgling, coughing up clumps of blood as Hebe watched, expressionless.
She felt she had seen this same scene hundreds of times before in the games, so instead of leaving the girl, she twisted the axe deeper, hearing the faint sound of cannon when the girl's eyes at last went dark.
Dropping the girl on the floor, she reached down to retrieve her axe, half expecting to pull her beating heart right out of her chest. As she did so, Hebe noticed a backpack in the corner of the room, covered in blood.
She left the girl and raced to the bag, yanking the zip open in anticipation. Her face fell as she realised it was practically empty, save for some matches and a small spool of rope. She groaned aloud, throwing her head back in infuriation. Still no food or water.
Hebe rose to her feet, throwing the backpack over her shoulder, tucking Lilac's dagger into the side pocket. She reached the door, throwing one last pitiful look over her shoulder, sickened by the tragic scene she was leaving behind.
Their bodies wouldn't be collected until after the games, there was no way the hovercrafts could get down here, they'd rot until peacekeepers came and dragged them out. Hebe then rushed out of the room, unable to bear it any longer, slamming the door firmly behind her.
She was once again in the breezy corridor, sighing at the relief from the heavy atmosphere of the room behind her. Hebe sunk down to the floor, back against the metal door. Two more dead and gone. Now she was down to the final 8.
Shuddering, she imagined Capitol reporters arriving at her home, barging their way past Annie to interview her mother. They would brand her a nut, ridicule her for showing upset about her daughter's imminent death. They'd find out about Annie too, no doubt she'd be there trying to stop them.
Hebe remembered the fear in Finnick's voice when he prepped her for the interviews, his stern warning to be vague about her family. She had little idea why he was so anxious about it, but she figured it was for good reason. And that made her nervous.
She tried to distract herself and looked across the narrow hallway, catching sight of the metal door directly opposite the one she had just come from. Then she turned her gaze up to the hatch, beginning to consider her choices.
She could enter the room opposite, maybe there would be supplies in there. Although if its contents was anything like that of the last one she wasn't sure she wanted to find out what lay inside.
Or she could return to the surface, take her chances with the swamp. Luca had found the stream of clean water, who said that there weren't a bunch of others just like it. She must be on an entirely different side of the arena from all that walking, so she was certain that she would be able to find some source of sustenance.
But Hebe couldn't bear not knowing, couldn't bear possibly leaving supplies that could save her life in the arena. So she stepped towards the door, stealing herself and swung it open, stepping inside.
She instantly regretted it.
All around her swarmed flies, bugs, insects of all manner. They crawled on the floor, on the walls, flew through the room, hopped around on the ceiling everywhere. She had never seen so many in one place. They were so numerous that she couldn't see the walls or floor, instead a thick carpet of creatures scuttling.
Then they began climbing onto her, mosquitoes landing on her arms and neck. Then, in perfect unison, they bit into her flesh, sucking up her blood like a vacuum and replacing it with their own toxins.
Hebe swiped her arms wildly, trying to brush them off of her, swinging her body around toward where she thought the door to be.
But there was no shining of polished metal. Just more bugs. She shrieked, terrified that she may be trapped here, bitten to death by insects. They were like thousands of tiny pins, and she was the pin cushion, tiny sharp teeth sinking into her over and over again.
She stomped around, mashing her hands into the bugs on the door, grinding them to a pulp, crunching under her feet like she was stamping on eggshells. But that only seemed to spur them on as they just bit harder, more and more of them latching onto her exposed skin.
Hebe did not relent, continuing to kill the bugs, revealing a small gleaming handle. She grabbed it, twisting and pushing the door open, screaming as the bugs bit into her with even more zeal than before, a searing pain bursting through her body.
She stumbled into the corridor, rushing to the hatch. The bugs followed her out because (like an idiot) she had neglected to close the door. The mosquitoes darted after her, whizzing through the air and attaching themselves to her. Hebe cried out again, trying to will her body into motion, mustering the last bit of strength to haul herself up the ladder.
She clawed her hands down her arms, ripping the insects off her arms, squashing them in her enclosed fist. Then she climbed, pulling herself rung by rung up the ladder, ignoring the angry red welts and spreading numbness.
Then she reached the hatch, shoving it open and falling out into the swamp, launching herself into the mud. Hebe then whipped around, closing the hatch before any bugs could even think to escape the confines of the tunnel. She brushed off the last few mosquitoes on her legs, it seems they had died as soon as they left the tunnel, clearly reacting to something in the environment of the swamp.
As she did so, she noticed those same red welts covered her skin like a carpet, not an inch left untouched by the vicious insects. Her heart sank into her stomach, knowing what was sure to come next. In the games you didn't just get bitten by mysterious insects in a hidden concrete tunnel and come out unscathed, there was sure to be some kind of deadly toxin rushing through her veins right now.
The only way to save her would be sponsors. Hebe looked up at the sky, praying that Mags and Finnick managed to secure her something, anything to save her life. This was not the way she wanted to go.
Her head began to spin and she began dragging herself toward a nearby bush, not caring to camouflage the hatch she had just emerged from, if another tribute wanted to get bitten to death then they were free to do so.
Hebe crawled through the mud, silver suit getting coated in the stuff as she moved by only the remaining strength of her damaged arms. She finally reached some cover, sinking into the undergrowth, closing her eyes involuntarily. She knew it may not be the best idea to sleep, but she couldn't force her eyes open any longer.
She sighed quietly accepting the fact that she would either wake up, or she wouldn't, and she prayed it would be the former.
Bugs crawled through her dreams all night, she watched as her allies were decapitated, bugs spilling from their severed necks rather than the customary spout of blood. Then she saw Ampere, green all over, eyes hollowed out, spiders scuttling out from them, meanwhile Lilac gnawed at him, pointed teeth ripping open his stomach, slurping her way through his intestines like they were spaghetti.
Then there was the new addition to her nightmares. She was transported from the arena, back in the apartment at the training centre. Finnick was sitting on the sofa, curled up, hair wild and knotted, shirt rumpled like he'd just woken up. He bit his nails nervously, red eyes twitching.
Hebe walked towards him, tilting her head as she looked at him with concern. She had never seen him so distraught.
"Finnick? Are you alright?" She whispered, confused by the way his head snapped up to her, eyes welling with tears. He looked so young. Hebe watched as his breath caught in his throat, trying to find the right words.
Then he let out a strange strangled noise that was some strange mix between a gag and a gulp.
"You're dead." He said, shaking like a leaf.
Hebe gaped at him, feeling the bile rise in her throat. She looked down at her arms, the same stings from before covering them entirely, mud staining her silver suit. Then she felt her head spin again, and soon she was vomiting everywhere. But all that came from her mouth was bugs, spraying all over the apartment, carpeting every surface.
A hole then appeared in his chest, and it was no longer Finnick sat there, it was Luca, eyes hollowed just like Ampere's, bugs leaking from his wound. She opened her mouth, letting out an ear-splitting scream, piercing through the room.
Then she awoke, still screaming. Her cries echoed through dead leafless trees. It was a loud, guttural sound, one she hadn't realised she was capable of producing before the games. It was the sound of a wild animal caught in a snare.
Her fingernails dug into the dirt, tracing patterns in it. At first it was absent-minded, but soon it became intentional, a distraction from the horrors she witnessed in her shook as she drew in the mud, dragging her fingers in large swirling patterns. Then she began humming, remembering one of the songs she had played for her mother before she left for the games.
Her mother was always fascinated by music, especially when Hebe played to her. Juno had absolutely no musical ability, and never ceased to boast about just how talented her only daughter was.
Hebe imagined her mother at home, watching no doubt. Maybe she cried, horrified by the state her child was in, dirty, covered in pustules, dehydrated. Maybe she was numb, unable to move or eat. Maybe she was asleep, unable to get out of bed. Maybe Annie was comforting her, rubbing her back as she sobbed, fighting back her own tears.
She looked down at her arms and legs, hoping to god that sponsors would be coming soon. It was day 5 of the games, and she had done pretty well to get to this point largely unscathed. Luckily for Hebe, the games hadn't progressed far enough that sponsorships were out of the question, however every hour that went by was another hour that the medicine would get more expensive. Every hour that went by was another hour that the toxins could soak into her bloodstream.
Furthermore, she was in pain. The welts were still red, but now they had begun to leak pus, small yellow dribbles emerging from the bites themselves.
Then her saviour came. First she heard the chime, and Hebe, not being one to allow herself false hope, convinced herself it was merely the wind whistling. Then it continued growing louder. She looked up tentatively, face breaking out into a grin as she noticed the silvery parachute and large metal box.
Hebe stood up, wincing slightly at the blisters on her feet, formed from the long days of trekking through the swamp. However, despite the pain she couldn't contain the smile on her face.
Soon the cargo reached her, and she held out her arms to catch the box. She sat down and threw the lid off eagerly, sending it flying across the clearing.
Inside was a small metal pot, a canteen of water, some dry crackers and a folded note. She moved for the note first, opening it and reading the message inside.
Try not to get bitten to death again. Enjoy.
Finnick and Mags
For the first time in what felt like years, a genuine laugh bubbled in her throat, imagining her mentor writing his message. She could practically see the smug grin on his face, Mags shaking her head at how childish he could be.
"Yeah, ok, I'll try." She smirked, unscrewing the lid of the pot, and sighing in relief at the sight of the purple cream inside.
Hebe dipped her fingers into it, gingerly spreading a thin layer over her shin. The effect was instantaneous, her skin immediately soothed. She then took the rest and smeared it everywhere it hurt, her neck, her hands, her ankles, her arms.
Strangely, the bugs hadn't bitten her face whatsoever. Maybe the Capitol had programmed them that way, can't have her beautiful face gnawed until she was unrecognisable. Then who would sponsor her!
She placed the lid back on the pot, stowing away the remaining cream in her crimson stained backpack. Hebe then moved back to the box, raising the canteen to her lips and savouring the feeling of the cool liquid running down her throat. She finished it off with one of the dry crackers, and she could safely say that it may have been the best meal of her life. No Capitol food could ever compare to this banquet.
She replaced the canteen in the bag, returning the remaining crackers to their box. It was then she noticed that it was mid-morning, so she must have slept through the anthem. She had no way of knowing which tributes had survived to this point, and to be entirely truthful, she didn't even know how long she had been in the arena for.
It was fair to assume that Gaia was still alive, as she was smart and armed with all the career's supplies. The pair from 7 were probably ok too, they were the only remaining alliance as far as Hebe was aware. After all, district partners were almost always close, she could speak from personal experience. Other than those three, it was a mystery.
Hebe sighed, she didn't like not knowing, and she didn't like the inactivity of being 'injured' like this.
Soon she couldn't bear it any longer, dragging herself to her feet once again, careful not to disturb any of her wounds. She looked down solemnly at the zips on her suit, regretting not having zipped them back up when she entered the tunnels. A rookie mistake, and one she had no intentions of repeating, although for now she had to leave the skin exposed, lest she wipe off all the expensive cream that was currently working to save her life.
She must've looked insane, hair falling from its once tight bun, skin tinted purple, suit coated in mud and leaves. Hebe reached up and removed the bun, using the hair tie to pull her coily hair into a ponytail. God she couldn't wait to have a real shower again.
Hebe began to stretch her aching legs, ambling her way over to the hatch she had used to escape the bugs. It was still exposed, no longer camouflaged under the mulch, the silver door clearly visible to anyone walking by. She considered hiding it, maybe she could use the tunnels to spy on other tributes?
Then she remembered the claustrophobic walls of concrete, the dim lighting, and worst of all, the bugs that coated every surface of that dreaded room. She recalled not closing the door, remembering how they had escaped into the main tunnels.
If she left it uncovered, then some unsuspecting tribute might stumble across it and be bitten to death by the bugs, trapped in the concrete labyrinth. That thought in mind, she walked away from the hatch, swinging her backpack over her shoulder as she did so, the rusty red stains a stark contrast to her liquid mercury suit.
Hebe then left the clearing, moving as quietly as she could through the swamp. It felt as though it grew hotter everyday, the air growing thicker the longer she spent there. Maybe this was how the gamemakers would try and end it, pushing them together with the sweltering heat and dwindling resources, forcing someone to make a move.
But for now Hebe focused on moving forwards through the swamp, in search of food or water to sustain her once her gift had run out. By now she had the grace of a hunter, tiptoeing past twigs and sneaking up on small rodents, before using Lilacs dagger to spear them. Then she'd drop them in her metal box, ready to be cooked for dinner (if she felt safe enough to build a fire that is).
Then she began foraging, remembering from her training which plants were edible and which weren't, ignoring those which she couldn't be certain about.
By the time evening had begun to set in, her box was filled with 5 or 6 rodents and a multitude of safe plants. She carried her backpack and box to another clearing, one with tall trees sheltering her from the elements or prying eyes of other tributes.
She collected her wood and kindling alone, and she felt the familiar sting of sadness as she remembered her allies, reminding herself that she was all alone now, and had to collect the firewood herself.
She dug through Lilac's crimson backpack, retrieving the small box of matches with triumph, revelling at her own independence. Then she set to work lighting the fire, ensuring that the rodents were ready to be cooked. This time there were no arrows for spits, so instead she stabbed them with the point of the dagger, holding them above the fire and turning them evenly.
Tonight Hebe only cooked two, saving the others in her box for breakfast. Then she dressed them with some of her edible leaves, making it look like one of those fancy dishes she had eaten in the Capitol.
She tucked in, chomping on the animal with reckless abandon, and she could imagine Ambrosia's complaints at her barbaric eating. The leaves turned out to be disgusting and bitter, Hebe screwing up her face at the awful taste of them, throwing them onto the floor.
Finishing her meal, she looked around the clearing, evaluating which bush she should spend the night in tonight. Eventually she decided on a small one with evergreen leaves, snuggling into the foliage. A living plant was a rare sight in this dump, so she was glad for the cheer it brought her.
Hebe tossed and turned for some time, consumed with the events of the last few days, waiting for the anthem to sound so she could fall asleep in peace. But tonight the only thing in the sky was the Capitol seal. She huffed and rolled over, facing away from the sky, irritated at the waste of time it had been. Then she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.