23. 151D8F
TW: Strategic self harm
Caitlin always did end up attracting the wrong people.
Her mother always said she had to stop seeking them out. But she never listened, and here she was.
She tried to listen to Janus, her mentor. He knew what he was talking about—hell, Eight had won not too long ago; she had a chance. Janus seemed to think so, too. The only thing now was to convince herself she hadn't ruined it.
(No, if anything, Zarim had.)
She'd wanted the Six boy to stage an alliance breakup, not beat a trainer half to death. What the fuck was he thinking? If that was enough to piss off the Careers, it sure as hell was enough to piss off the Capitol. Don't get her wrong, Caitlin hated the Capitol as much as any critically-minded resident of Eight—they'd Reaped her for a death match after all, and like hell that was an accident—but the thought of angering their overlords, of signing her own death warrant… it sent tremors through her fingers.
So Caitlin clenched her fists tightly around the handles of her knives, and set her sights on the Careers.
…And what a fool she'd been.
Janus would've advised her against it, but Janus hadn't been there. She'd have to make split-second decisions in training just as she would in the Games. Just maybe, she'd thought, I can weasel my way in. Get the Careers to take out my district partner's alliance. And then Zarim can get some of them, and they can get him too. I won't have to do a thing.
Their blood won't be on my hands if I'm not the one holding the knife. Right?
She'd work out the details with Zarim later, she figured, or half of them at least.
But it was moot now.
At first the Twos had seemed interested—Caitlin's life hinged on them being interested—but it was… they weren't… They toyed with her. She'd shown off her skills to them, her strategy, her potential, and it was a mistake.
They weren't interested. They just wanted to know if she was a threat.
(Caitlin could've been a threat.)
Janus had warned her… and she didn't listen. She never listened.
But he refused to give up on her. It wasn't over until they packed her body into a wooden box, or until Caitlin stepped out of that arena a Victor.
It wasn't the Two girl she had to impress—it was the Gamemakers.
She'd already shown them she could fight. She needed to show that she could handle anything they threw at her. Anything. So when Caitlin stepped into that gymnasium, shoulders squared and footsteps echoing permanently through the spacious room, she headed straight for the knives. She didn't call a trainer yet—instead, she brandished the blade in front of the Gamemakers, held it up to her forearm, and sliced.
The pain bloomed, but she gritted her teeth and cut deeper. Her expression never changed, but she could've sworn she saw the Head Gamemaker smile.
When she finally did call the trainers over to spar, she didn't let the pain stop her, hold her back.
Nothing would hold her back, not a Career, not an ally, and certainly not herself.
But, as it turned out, a training score of seven meant utterly nothing with an arrow hurtling towards her eye.
𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙲𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕
𝙸𝙳: 𝟷𝟻𝟷𝙳𝟾𝙵
𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝: 𝟾
𝙰𝚐𝚎: 𝟷𝟽
𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎: 𝟽
𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍
𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛'𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝟷𝟻𝟷𝙳𝟾𝙵'𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛. 𝙰𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙳𝟾 - 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.