CHAPTER 8 - WRECK
Bliss thought her monitoring station was defective, until she consulted Afflatus' screen.
As Basal and Lustre walked through the sixth circle of hell, the camera showed only them, but not their point of view. The mentors were in the dark about what the tributes saw.
An expression of surprise broke through Afflatus' usually docile face, when Lustre saw something that scared him so badly, it took him off his feet.
They weren't allowed to know, but curiosity flared inside Bliss. After the horrors the tributes had already faced, what could be worse?
…
Afflatus stared at the monitoring screen, perplexed at the lack of visual. She couldn't see what Lustre saw, only his terrified reaction. Even though the Capitol cut down footage to be broadcast-worthy, they'd never censored Afflatus' monitoring footage before.
The situation put her on edge. She couldn't help but imagine what horror Basal and Lustre faced. Because their was no clarification one way or another, her assumptions ran wild.
Her anxiety flared again when Lustre lounged against the tunnel wall, across from Basal, after they'd called it a night. Usually, Lustre paid Basal as little attention as possible, but now he seemed to dote on the boy. Lustre was ensnaring Basal, making him feel like he owed Lustre.
Afflatus was all too familiar with the behaviour. Lustre had been touching Basal casually throughout the day, getting him accustomed to contact so he didn't naturally flinch away later on.
The words coming out of Lustre's mouth all but confirmed Afflatus' fears. This was it, the beginning of the end for Basal, after a brief reprieve of camaraderie.
"Come on Basal, we're never going to have this kind of freedom again. And who knows how long we'll live?"
The tone was manipulative and demeaning.
She'd never seen other tributes have sex during the Hunger Games, but was sure it had happened. None of her tributes over the past nine years had been involved with anything like that, so she had no knowledge to work from.
Afflatus and Bliss' cameras panned to the top of the tunnel as Lustre started taking off Basal's clothes.
Unfortunately, they could still hear the sounds of saliva on skin, and Basal's uneven, panicked breaths.
No, the Capitol would not show that.
…
"What is happening?" Bliss turned to Afflatus. "Why do they keep panning away from what's going on?
"I don't know about the sixth circle. But… is it unclear what just happened between Lustre and Basal?" Afflatus tried to ask diplomatically.
Several emotions spread through Bliss' face as she processed the situation. Confusion, anger, disgust.
"Fuck… fuck!" Bliss exclaimed. She stood up and smashed her headset on her monitoring station.
All heads in the monitoring room turned to her, curious, because none had been notified of her tribute's death. They wanted to hear the hot gossip, what had happened to him. Sickness coalesced with Bliss' anger.
"What the fuck are you all looking at?" Bliss roared at the room.
"Come on, Bliss." Affy grabbed her arm and led her out, towards the lounge down the hall. Bliss allowed herself to be dragged, still screaming profanities at the other mentors. It wasn't their fault, but they were available to scream at.
Afflatus booted Rhea out of the lounge room, so they could have some privacy. Rhea took one look at Bliss and bolted.
Bliss paced, and cried. She was used to torment, used to death. But not used to her tributes having to face sexual manipulation.
"Bliss, try to breathe." Affy said.
It only made Bliss angrier. "How are you not upset about this?!" Bliss demanded.
Afflatus let out a heavy sigh. "I was expecting something like this to happen." She confessed.
Bliss looked at her with hatred. "What?!"
"I knew Lustre was an asshole. I knew his alliance with Basal was fake. He's the type of person who enjoys drawing out torment, not so much one to inflict quick death." Afflatus was honest, though it was incredibly difficult to say the words.
"How could you not tell me?!" Bliss was still yelling.
"There's nothing we could do! Nothing! We couldn't warn Basal. I would have said something to you before the Games if I thought they'd end up together, but nobody saw that coming." Afflatus said.
Bliss supposed it made sense, but it still felt like Affy lied to her.
"I thought I could trust you." Bliss said to Afflatus, storming passed her.
…
Harlem waited for Bliss outside the lounge.
Bliss nearly barrelled into him. Rhea stood behind Harlem, eyes anxiously flickering around. It appeared he wanted to be supportive, but Bliss was scary right now.
She was powerless. It wasn't anxiety she felt, it was pure rage.
"Let's take a walk." Harlem said to her. "Rhea, stay in the training centre. We'll speak when Bliss and I are back. Thank you for coming to get me."
Rhea nodded and slipped back into the lounge, flashing Bliss an empathetic glance on the way by. Later, she would appreciate it. Currently, she wanted to send her fist through the walls.
Bliss couldn't form words for the first few miles. They wound through city streets, Harlem escorting her through the wild. Eventually, they found a park. It was massive, with trees as tall as some buildings. There were intricate pathways, and a ton of foliage filling in the space. Best of all, it reminded Bliss of home.
"How come you've never taken me here before?" Bliss asked, thinking it would have been nice to have been able to come here sometime in the past eight years.
"Capitol gave me permission to take you out of the training centre this year. They give permission to leave the grounds to different people at different times. Aramid was given permission and tribute escort status almost immediately, so she's allowed to escort Rhea. That's why they were allowed to travel to the restaurant… The Capitol took longer to give you permission to go off-grounds." Harlem answered.
"Because of my condition?" Bliss asked, referring to her anxiety induced psychosis.
"Yes." Harlem confirmed. "Come on."
Harlem and Bliss wove through the forest pathways, rarely crossing paths with any citizens. If they did see Capitolites, they were focused on exercising, not the nature or people around them.
"Do you feel like talking about what happened?" Harlem asked.
"Are they going to punish me?" Bliss asked, fearfully.
"No, probably not. Monitoring rooms have more leniency for behaviour like that. It's private, completely blocked off from public access. I wouldn't recommend testing how lenient they are, but I think you'll be okay this time." Harlem's words placated Bliss.
He waited silently for her to offer more words. Bliss fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, and tilted her head to let her curly back hair obscure her face.
"Lustre sexually assaulted Basal." Bliss said, voice broken.
Harlem gasped.
"Does shit like this usually happen?" Bliss asked, hopeless.
"No, no. Not in the Games." Harlem's mind spun as he tried to figure out how to answer her. "Rarely. If ever. I can't remember it happening. Especially not by a career. Careers are supposed to be honourable."
The statement reminded Bliss of her Games. During her time, a career slaughtered most of his alliance during the bloodbath, with the help of an out-district boy. Apparently, because of this, the Capitol hadn't favoured either of them as victors.
"Hopefully the gamemakers fuck Lustre up." Bliss said.
"If it's any consolation, they might." Harlem said. "The Capitol does not appreciate careers flaunting bad behaviour, even if it's implied, or just shown to the mentors monitoring them."
The conversation took Bliss' anger down a notch, and now tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
Harlem opened his arms. She sobbed into his chest.
…
Basal couldn't look at Lustre the next morning, which seemed fine with the other boy. Any time Lustre got too close to Basal, he flinched.
Upon realizing this, Lustre wouldn't leave Basal alone. He clapped his shoulders, tugged at his jacket, playfully jabbed at his sides.
Basal didn't know what to do. His mind felt blank. He felt so small, so powerless. He knew he'd be unable to dispatch Lustre, the career far too sharp. He knew if he tried, his fate would be worse than being stuck in this hellscape arena forever.
So, Basal carried on, trying to engage with Lustre as little as possible.
Thankfully, they reached the end of the tunnel to face the next horror.
Basal didn't think he'd be so quick to help Lustre in this circle if the boy faltered. His goodwill as gone, replaced by emptiness.
The sounds of their footsteps bounced off the red walls. The sides of the cavern pitched upward, ledges surrounding them.
A centaur-mutt equipped with a bow and arrow peered over the ledge, and trained his weapon on the boys as soon as he saw them.
Basal started running.
Lustre screamed behind him, catching an arrow in his arm. He ran after Basal.
More centaur-mutts appeared on the ridges. More arrows cascaded down around them. Luckily, they weren't great shots.
The cavern was short. Basal wasn't hit. Lustre was only hit the the one time, caught off guard.
The boys burst into the next tunnel.
Basal's heart rate skyrocketed when they reached the tunnel, fearing what Lustre would do if they stopped and took a break. It wasn't an option not too, though, Lustre had to deal with the arrow protruding from his arm.
Lustre sawed the arrow head off and tried to pull the shaft out of his arm. The pain didn't allow him to, though, his anguished cries rivalling those from the cavern with bound, screaming souls.
Lustre ordered Basal to remove the arrow. Basal complied. No matter how much he was growing to hate the boy, he didn't relish his pain. Basal just wanted this all to be over. He wished he had a blade to slit his wrists, not relishing the idea of bludgeoning himself to death.
Rocks started tumbling down the tunnel behind them, forcing them forward.
The boys sprinted to the end, Lustre clutching his bleeding arm to his body, and were thrust into the next circle.
Shadow demons, the size of towers, lumbered over mass graves in the ground.
They would be utterly impossible to fight.
Basal and Lustre crept around the figures, not attempting to help the screaming voices coming from inside the graves.
The sounds were horrible, a cacophony of torment.
The shadow figures didn't pay them any attention if they didn't get to close to the graves.
…
Bliss watched as Basal and Lustre evaded the centaurs and shadow demons. She was glad when the arrow sunk into Lustre, only hoping the centaurs were a better shot. He would look good with an arrow hole through his head.
Afflatus sat with the other career mentors, Bliss still too furious to be in her company. The anger was all-consuming, overwhelming. It's didn't make sense to direct it all at Afflatus, but she was Lustre's mentor. And she'd withheld the truth. Vile thoughts ran through Bliss' mind, cursing the careers, cursing her friend.
A cannon boomed. Bliss received a notification that Aramid's tribute had finally died.
Aramid stalked out of the monitoring room.
…
Hours later, Bliss knocked on the D8 apartment doors.
Rhea appeared as the door cracked open.
"Hey, Bliss." He said, cautiously.
"Hi, Rhea. I was wondering if Aramid was up for a conversation?" Bliss asked.
Rhea looked behind him, waited a few moments, then nodded. He opened the door all the way, and Bliss saw Aramid in the sitting room behind him.
Bliss went to the girl, sitting beside her in an armchair.
"I'm sorry about your tribute." Bliss said. "The first years mentoring hurt like hell."
"You're implying it gets easier?" Aramid asked, tearfully.
"It doesn't get harder." Bliss answered, not sure if the statement was true.
"Watching her like that… I can't even imagine what it must be like watching Basal." Aramid said.
Bliss cringed. "What… happened to her?" She asked, carefully.
"She died from dehydration, screamed herself to death in the ninth circle. It took far too long." Aramid's bloodshot eyes started at Bliss.
"She'd made it though the rest of the circles. She was the first to go through them, from our group. The ninth trapped her, though. She couldn't escape." A tear leaked from Aramid's eye.
"I'm sorry, Aramid." Bliss said, taking the girl's hand. "There's barely anything we can do for them once they're in the arena. We're forced to sit by and watch everything unfold."
Aramid nodded, tears streaming down her face.
"It makes us feel powerlessness." Bliss said.
Aramid nodded again.
Bliss sighed. "It's not your fault, though."
Aramid shrugged.
"Aramid, you have to believe it." Bliss squeezed her hand. "If you carry their deaths like a personal responsibility, it'll destroy you. You didn't Reap them, and you gave them everything you could before you went inside. Right?"
Aramid nodded.
"I hate to say it, but it's like taking care of terminally ill folks, working at hospice. We know they're probably going to die, but we don't know when, we don't know how. All we can do is prepare them as best as possible, then they enter their journey alone. Most of the time they don't make it. Sometimes they do.
"It's out of our hands. I know it sounds cold, but shame and guilt are fast killers.
"You fought. You lived. You made it out. You're the anomaly. Now, you're a shepherd for others."
"How do you live with yourself?" Aramid asked, almost silently.
"By showing them I care, and preparing them the best I can. A lot of the kids I've mentored come from challenging circumstances- abuse, neglect. Even if they haven't come from places like that, having someone to comfort them makes a difference. Maybe not in their deaths, but it absolutely does in their lives." Bliss said. "Don't cut yourself off from your emotions. If they become too strong, you'll want to."
Rhea huffed behind Bliss, not a response, but an expression of his inner thoughts. He'd lost his first tribute this year, and was sure to be struggling. Bliss was glad he had Violet and Aramid close by.
Aramid squeezed Bliss' hand. "Thank you, Bliss. I appreciate it."
Bliss sighed sadly, but smiled.
"Do you want some tea?" Bliss asked.
"Yes, that sounds good." Aramid said. Bliss began to get up, but Aramid waved her back down. "Rhea, hun, can you put the kettle on?"
"Sure thing." Rhea said. He gently squeezed Bliss' shoulder on the way passed, a gesture of thanks.