-* 74th Hunger Games. Day 8. Continued. *
The crashing waves against the narrow sandbar added to the chaos as the sea churned violently on either side, spitting cold spray into the air.
Peeta slipped again, his foot sinking into the unstable sand. Cato yanked him upright, eyes wild with fear. The water was rising—slowly, but enough to make the already treacherous path even more dangerous. The sand beneath them was quickly becoming unstable, threatening to pull them into the frothing ocean.
"Move! Come on!" Cato growled, but the desperation in his voice betrayed the fear he was fighting to keep down. The mutated beasts behind them shrieked, their grotesque figures illuminated by the glimmer of moonlight reflecting off the churning water. The pack was relentless, charging forward with horrifying speed, their skeletal maws snapping open and closed as they drew nearer.
Suddenly, one of the creatures lunged at Peeta, its long, sinewy limbs cutting through the air with terrifying precision.
"No!" Cato roared, spinning around just in time. His sword slashed through the air as he brought it down with all his strength. The mutation let out an ear-piercing screech as his blade tore through its side, dark ichor spraying across the sand as the creature tumbled into the water, where the current quickly swept it away.
"Keep running!" he shouted, barely pausing to catch his breath before pushing Peeta forward again. The beast's blood clung to his blade, dripping onto the sand as he sprinted, muscles burning with exertion.
Behind them, Katniss let loose another arrow, striking one of the creatures in the neck. It howled in pain, staggering momentarily before falling to its knees. But there were more—dozens of them—flooding onto the sandbar, their jagged limbs slicing through the night as they raced to catch up.
"There's too many of them!" Peeta gasped, his voice cracking with panic as he glanced over his shoulder.
Katniss's arrows whistled through the air, each one hitting its mark, but two more took its place for every mutation that fell. "I can't hold them off!" she shouted, her voice strained as she fired again and again, her quiver quickly emptying.
Cato's heart pounded in his chest, the rising tide licking at their feet as they ran. The sea was closing in, making the sandbar narrower with each passing second. The warm, churning water slapped against their legs, threatening to drag them down as the mutations drew closer, their grotesque, inhuman sounds filling the air with dread.
Another mutation lunged at Peeta from the left, and Cato barely had time to react. He swung his sword wildly, the blade catching the beast's arm and severing it with a sickening crunch. The creature stumbled, shrieking in agony, but before it could recover, the waves crashed over it, pulling it into the dark depths of the ocean.
"We're not going to make it!" Peeta's voice was raw with terror, his eyes wide as the shore seemed to stretch farther away with every step. The water was rising faster now, swirling around their knees, pulling at their legs, dragging them down.
"Yes, we will!" Cato barked, though the fear gnawing at his chest was almost unbearable. He shoved Peeta forward,
The sandbar wasn't just endless — it was hell. The water on either side churned violently, waves crashing against the narrow path, sending sprays of saltwater over their already drenched bodies. Every step felt like a struggle, the sand shifting beneath their feet, threatening to pull them down. The screeching of the mutations grew louder, the sound making Cato's skin crawl. He could feel them getting closer, those twisted, skeletal limbs tearing through the air behind them.
"Keep going!" he shouted, his voice almost swallowed by the roar of the waves and the monsters at their backs. He tightened his grip on Peeta's arm, practically dragging him along as they bolted across the sand.
Suddenly, one of the mutations lunged from the side, its grotesque body coming out of nowhere, eyes gleaming in the dark. Cato barely had time to react. Peeta stumbled, letting out a startled cry as the creature closed in, claws outstretched.
Without thinking, Cato let go of Peeta, yanked his sword up, and swung with all his strength. The blade cut through the air, meeting the mutation's flesh with a sickening thud. It screeched, writhing as Cato drove the sword deeper until the creature crumpled into the sand, twitching before going still. He wiped the sweat and salt from his brow, but there wasn't any time to breathe. The other mutations were still right behind them, gaining ground fast.
Katniss was up ahead, firing arrows at the ones closest to them. But no matter how many she hit, they just kept coming. Her quiver was running low. She shot another arrow, hitting a mutation square in the chest, but it barely slowed the thing down.
"We can't stop them!" Katniss yelled over the chaos, her voice sharp with fear and frustration.
The waves were crashing harder now, the sea rising higher, as if the arena itself was closing in on them. The water sloshed onto the sandbar, soaking their legs, threatening to sweep them off their feet. Every second felt like a countdown to disaster.
Peeta tripped again, his hand catching the edge of Cato's shirt as he struggled to keep his balance. Cato didn't let him fall, pulling him up with one arm, his sword still in the other, ready to strike again if needed.
"Just a little further," Cato muttered. His muscles were screaming in protest, but the adrenaline was the only thing keeping him going now. The shoreline was so close, but it felt like the distance wasn't shrinking fast enough.
One of the mutations let out a bone-chilling scream, launching itself at them again, its claws swiping dangerously close. Cato spun around and swung his sword in a wide arc, slicing through its side. The creature fell, writhing on the ground, but there was no time to celebrate.
More of them were coming.
The waves crashed violently behind them, nearly drowning out the pounding of Cato's heartbeat as he and Peeta scrambled up the hillside. Adrenaline surged through their veins as the ground trembled beneath them, quaking with the force of the incoming wave. Cato risked a glance back, watching as some of the mutated beasts were swallowed by the sea, but most of them still tore after them, snarls growing louder by the second.
No time to think. Just run. Just survive.
They reached the amphitheater, feet slamming against the stone steps. Cato scanned the ruined landscape, eyes darting for a safe spot. But before they could find one, Reef appeared, blocking their path, his eyes gleaming as he readied his stance. Behind them, the beasts were closing in, their snarls getting nearer, louder.
Cato barely had time to react before one of the mutations lunged at him. He swung his sword hard, catching the creature mid-air, slicing its throat. Blood sprayed across the stone as the beast collapsed, twitching violently. Just as he turned to finish it off, another mutation barreled into him, knocking him off his feet and slamming him to the ground.
Cato hit the ground hard. The air knocked from his lungs as the mutation's claws raked across his chest. He raised his arms in defense, struggling to push the creature off, but its weight pinned him down, its teeth snapping dangerously close to his face. Pain shot through him as the claws tore into his skin, the beast's inhuman screams filling his ears.
Just as Cato's arms began to give way, Peeta appeared above him, knife in hand. Without hesitation, he drove the dagger into the back of the creature's skull, the blade sinking deep into its flesh. The mutation let out a final screech before collapsing onto Cato, its body convulsing as it died.
Peeta grunted, hauling the body off of him, breathing heavily. He extended a hand to help Cato up, and just as their hands connected, Cato's eyes caught the flash of silver.
The spear flew through the air, striking Peeta in the leg. The tip embedded itself deep into his thigh, and Peeta let out a scream of pure agony as he crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him quickly, his hands frantically gripping the shaft of the spear as his face contorted in pain.
Cato scrambled to his feet, his mind racing, but before he could reach Peeta, a mutation lunged at him again. He had no choice but to raise his sword, deflecting the beast's snapping jaws with a desperate swing. The creature's claws tore through the air, scraping against his skin as Cato twisted, driving his blade deep into the beast's side. It let out a high-pitched screech, collapsing at his feet, twitching as it died.
Just as the second mutation fell, Cato turned to see Reef yanking the spear from Peeta's leg, blood spraying across the stone steps. Peeta gasped, convulsing with the pain, but before he could recover, Reef slammed his boot into his chest, sending him reeling down the steps. Peeta's body tumbled helplessly; the stone steps unforgiving as he hit each one with sickening thuds.
"Peeta!" Cato's voice cracked with desperation, but Reef was already charging at him before he could reach him, his spear slashing through the air.
"Thought you'd put up more of a fight, Cato!" Reef spat, his strikes coming fast and brutal. Cato barely raised his shield in time to deflect the first blow, his arms burning from the force of the hits.
"This is how it ends!" Reef roared, slamming his spear into Cato's shield with enough power to drive him backward, toward the edge of the steps. The spear's tip grazed his arm, leaving a deep gash as blood ran down his side.
Through the chaos, he spotted Katniss high above, her bow drawn and aimed at Luna. But before she could release her arrow, two more mutations skittered down the steps, moving faster than she could react. Katniss fired, killing one, but the second barreled into her, knocking her off balance. She fell, struggling to keep the beast from ripping her apart.
Reef seized the moment, swinging his spear with all his strength. He slammed it into Cato's shield, sending him stumbling. Pain shot through Cato's arm as his shield slipped from his grip. With a triumphant roar, Reef thrust his spear forward. The blade sank deep into Cato's side, and his scream echoed through the amphitheater.
Agony tore through him as blood poured from the wound, his legs barely able to keep him standing. Reef grinned down at him, savoring the moment.
"It's over, Cato! You can't beat me!" Reef snarled, raising his spear for the final strike.
Cato gritted his teeth, the pain nearly unbearable, but his eyes flicked behind Reef. He spotted it—a mutation creeping closer, its barbed tail twitching, ready to strike. Through the pain, Cato managed to smirk.
"I don't have to beat you," he rasped, voice rough. "I just need to distract you."
Reef turned just in time to see the mutation's tail whip forward, piercing his chest with a sickening crunch. His eyes went wide, his scream dying in his throat as the creature tore into him, shredding his flesh. Reef's body slumped to the ground, blood spilling across the stone steps.
Ignoring the searing pain in his side, Cato lunged forward, sword in hand, and sliced through the mutation's tail with one final burst of strength. The creature screeched in agony, thrashing wildly. Cato sidestepped its final lunge, sending it tumbling down the steps toward Peeta.
The mutation shook off the fall, readying itself to strike at Peeta. Cato slammed into it with his sword in a flash of adrenaline, knocking it to the ground. His sword plunged into it, sinking through the creature's skull with a sickening crunch.
Panting, blood dripping from his wounds, Cato stumbled to Peeta's side.
"You okay?" he gasped, his voice strained from the effort.
Peeta, pale and trembling, nodded weakly. "I—I'm fine," he whispered, the blood from his wound pooling beneath him. Cato dropped his sword with a heavy clatter, hastily tearing a strip from his sleeve to fashion a tourniquet around Peeta's bleeding leg. The sharp crack of a cannon firing echoed through the amphitheater, but Cato barely had time to register it. His head jerked up at the sound of a low, menacing hiss. His eyes widened as he saw another mutation stalking toward them. Its maw dripping with thick, foamy saliva.
Cato shoved Peeta behind him, tightening his grip on his sword. He wasn't sure how much longer he could fight, but he'd do whatever it took. Before the beast could pounce, an arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself deep in its eye. The creature howled in pain as it collapsed.
Cato's gaze shot to Katniss, who stood with her bow still raised, her face grim and covered in black blood. She gave him a brief nod—but any sense of relief was fleeting.
Luna emerged from the shadows like a ghost, her trident gleaming in the low light. In one swift motion, she was on Katniss. Her trident plunged into Katniss's chest with sickening force, the prongs slicing through her flesh like paper. Katniss let out a strangled gasp, blood spilling from her mouth as Luna kicked her down the steps. Her body hit the ground with a harsh thud.
"Katniss!" Peeta's voice shattered the silence, filled with raw desperation as he scrambled toward her.
The arena fell silent as Luna descended the steps slowly, her eyes cold, her face devoid of emotion.
"It's just us now, Cato," she said sharply.
Cato's entire body screamed in protest, every inch of him burning with pain and exhaustion. But he wasn't done. Not yet.
He raised his sword, his grip unsteady. There was no fear in his eyes, just a stubborn determination.
Cato's vision blurred as he tried to steady himself, his sword heavy in his hand. Cold sweat trickled down his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His limbs felt distant as if they didn't belong to him anymore. Luna circled him like a predator, her trident gleaming with blood, her eyes sharp with cruel intent.
"You think your noble cause matters here?" she taunted, her voice cutting through the haze of his pain. "In the Hunger Games, there is only one truth—only one can survive." She sneered, her lips curling. "And it won't be you."
Cato fought to stay upright, tightening his grip on his sword.
"It won't be you either," he rasped, voice thick with exhaustion.
Luna's face twisted in anger at his defiance. She lunged at him with a snarl, her trident aimed directly at his heart.
Cato barely managed to parry her strike, his body moving on instinct, the force of the blow rattling through his bones. The clash of metal echoed in the amphitheater as they exchanged blows—the sound of clashing metal, like thunder on the brink of a storm. She was faster, more precise, and every strike pushed him back, chipping away at the last of his strength.
Every movement felt like it was draining the life from him. Cato's breaths came in sharp gasps as he fought to keep up; each swing of his sword was weaker than the last. Luna's attacks were relentless, each strike meant to punish and wear him down until he had nothing left. His vision blurred, spots dancing in front of his eyes as he struggled to stay on his feet. But through the pain and overwhelming fatigue, there was a single thought that anchored him — Peeta.
Peeta, wounded and defenseless behind him, was the only thing keeping him upright. He had to protect him. He couldn't fail now.
Luna's trident struck again, this time catching his already damaged arm. The blade pierced through flesh, and he let out a strangled cry as fresh pain exploded through him. Blood poured from the wound, mingling with the venom that coursed through his body. He stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of the injury and exhaustion.
Luna smirked, sensing victory as she towered over him. "Look at you," she spat. "You're done."
Cato could barely hold his sword now, his body shaking from the effort of staying upright. His mind screamed for rest, for relief from the agony tearing through him, but he refused to let go. He had to keep fighting. He had to survive.
Before Luna could deliver the final blow, Peeta forced himself between them. His eyes were wide with fear, but fierce determination was behind them as he lunged at Luna with his dagger.
Dodging the attack, Luna spun with lethal precision, driving her trident forward with a vicious thrust. The sharp prongs found their mark, stabbing deep into Peeta's shoulder. His cry of pain pierced the air as the impact sent him collapsing to the ground, his hand instinctively reaching for the wound as blood poured from it, his knife clattering to the ground. Cato's heart lurched as Peeta crumpled, his desperate gasp for breath filling the space between them.
"No!" his voice was ragged, a roar from deep inside him.
The sight of Peeta falling to the ground ignited something primal within him. Summoning the last of his strength, Cato charged at her, his sword slashing through the air—the blade connected with her side, a solid blow that made her stagger backward. Luna's expression twisted in shock and pain, pressing her hand instinctively to her wound.
A lull of silence filled the air between them as she took a ragged breath.
"Is he worth it?" she snarled, her eyes flicking between them. "Is any of this worth it? You're going to die for him, just like the others."
For a moment, time seemed to slow as Cato's mind flickered with memories, pulling him back to a different life. He saw Marcus first—their friendship forged in the brutal training halls of the Academy, where they had pushed each other to the limit. But it wasn't just the training; it was the stolen moments of affection between them, the soft smiles, and whispered promises made in the shadows. He remembered the love they shared, a bond that had been their only solace in a world designed to harden them.
Then came the memory of Octavia, his mother. Her face flashed before him—the look she gave him the day he left for the Games. He had promised her, just as he had promised Marcus, that he would return. The weight of those promises still hung heavy in his heart.
Clove appeared next. He remembered the countless hours they spent playing chess, laughing about what life could have been like if they had never been chosen, reminiscing about a future that would never come. The image of her dying in his arms flickered in his mind—the cold, lifeless body of his friend, taken too soon, haunting him still.
And then Cornelia. The wise, fierce woman who had raised him on the mountain. She had taught him everything about surviving, about fighting, about never giving up. He could almost hear her voice again, stern but caring, as they walked through the wild peaks, the wind carrying the scent of fresh flowers. Those peaceful days seemed like a distant dream, a time when he was just a boy, long before the arena had stolen his innocence and turned him into a warrior.
And finally, Peeta.
Peeta, who had pulled him from the suffocating darkness that had consumed him. Peeta, whose kisses had made him feel alive again, whose laughter was the first light he had known in so long. Every kiss, every moment they shared, every promise of something beyond the violence—they all pulsed through his mind.
The memories were like a lifeline, the dandelions—the Lion's Teeth he had once wished upon as a child, hoping for something better than this cruel and brutal world. Everything had led to this. Every thread of his past, every loss, every promise made had woven into this single truth: he was worth more than what they had tried to make him.
Cato wasn't just the warrior they had crafted in the Academy, not just a weapon in the hands of the Capitol. He was more than the brutality, more than the bloodshed. He was the boy who had wished on dandelions, the boy who had loved, who had dreamed of something beyond survival.
In this moment, he was free—
"Yes," he breathed, his voice low but sure. "He's worth everything."
Infuriated by his answer, Luna lunged at him again, her trident raised high. But this time, Cato was ready. With a surge of strength he didn't know he had left, he sidestepped her attack, his sword flashing in the low light. The trident missed him by millimeters, embedding into the stone floor as she overextended.
With everything he had left, Cato swung his sword in a wide arc, the blade slicing deep into her side. Luna gasped, her eyes widening in shock and pain. She tried to bring her trident up for another strike, but he was faster. He drove his sword through her chest, the force of the blow knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. She let out a final, gasping breath as the light faded from her eyes, her body still as the blood pooled beneath her.
The theater fell into an eerie silence. Cato stood over her, chest heaving, his body trembling from exhaustion and pain. He staggered, barely able to stay upright, but he had done it. He had protected Peeta.
He had survived.
He had won.
The realization should have filled him with triumph, but instead, a deep, overwhelming exhaustion crept through Cato's body. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his sword clattering beside him. He blinked, dazed, as the sky above shifted into an eerie dawn—a haunting blend of yellows, pinks, and oranges streaking across the horizon. It was beautiful, yet somehow distant, like it didn't belong to him anymore.
Peeta scrambled to his side, hands frantic, his face twisted in desperation.
"Cato, stay with me!" Peeta's voice wavered, barely cutting through the haze clouding Cato's mind.
The world around him was slipping, blurring at the edges, and all he could focus on was the warmth of Peeta's hand gripping his, trying to hold him there.
"The sun's rising," he whispered, his voice weak and distant, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed at the sky, the colors shifting like a soft lullaby. "I never thought I'd see it again..."
Peeta's breath hitched, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Cato, don't..." his voice cracked. "Please don't talk like that. You're going to be okay. We'll get you out of here, I swear. We'll both get through this. We'll go home."
Cato's vision flickered, the swirling colors of dawn blending with the memories of everything he had fought for. His exhaustion made it hard to focus, but he turned his head, his gaze locking onto Peeta's tear-filled eyes. He could see the fear, the desperation.
"It was worth it," Cato whispered, his voice barely audible. "You… you were worth it."
Peeta's grip tightened around his hand, shaking his head frantically.
"No, don't say that," he begged, panic rising in his chest. "You can't leave me. I can't do this without you. I need you, Cato. Please, stay with me."
Cato smiled weakly, though the effort felt like it was draining the last of his strength. "You're stronger than you think," he murmured, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "You'll survive this…"
Tears streamed freely down Peeta's face, the weight of everything crashing down on him.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking as he leaned closer, clutching Cato's hand like a lifeline. "Please… don't leave me. Don't go."
Cato wanted to respond; he wanted to say those words back, to tell Peeta that he loved him too, but his body wouldn't cooperate. His eyes fluttered, the world around him dimmed as dawn's colors swirled into a soft blur. He could feel himself slipping further, the weight of exhaustion too much to bear. His gaze drifted upward to the sky—the sky he'd never thought he'd see again, so peaceful, so far away.
Peeta grabbed Cato's sword, filled with desperation and rage. In his trembling hands, he pressed the blade to his own throat, his voice shaking as he yelled toward the sky, his voice raw with anguish.
"Two victors or no victors!"
For a moment, everything was still. The silence was thick, suffocating, hanging over them like a storm waiting to break. Cato's vision faded, the world becoming a blur of light and sound. He barely registered the distant voice of Claudius Templesmith crackling through the speakers, but deep down, he knew.
It was over.
The last thing Cato saw was the sunrise. Beautiful. Peaceful.
Freedom.