Chapter 59

NARRATOR | Caius Thorntree, Head Gamemaker

Our taxi bumps down the winding Capitol roads, and my head nearly hits the window. Next to me, Acanthus taps on a screen embedded in the driver's seat, and I hear cheering from its speakers.

"Violet, we have all missed you dearly in the Capitol," I hear Venia Sharpe say faintly. I'm staring out the window, but I can still see her face in the reflection. "Are you excited to make your grand return?"

"I'm very excited to come back," Violet responds, her voice light. "We have to catch up!"

The hosts laugh along with the audience. "We'll see you very soon at the end of your Victory Tour," Valentina says. "Give it up for the Victor of the 98th Hunger Games, Violet Chappelle!"

I can't help but glance at the screen as Violet waves goodbye. She looks almost exactly same as she did six months ago - likely an intentional choice by her stylists - and she's holding a large knife in her hands. The camera makes sure to show a close-up of the blade, where the number 9 is engraved. It's the one she held in the Arena, a reminder of her destructive legacy... it was Snow's request that she have it, and it was his request that she hold it today.

"She doesn't have a clue," Acanthus mutters, switching off the screen.

"Hm?" I say, turning to the older man.

"Oblivious," he sighs. "I can see it in her eyes. Her District practically wants to burn her alive, and she seems to have no idea. That Victory Tour is going to be a rude awakening."

I shudder at the thought. Acanthus has debriefed me already about the events in District Seven, but I don't know if believe everything I've heard. According to his sources, the Peacekeepers at Violet's front door are the only thing keeping Violet alive right now. They were stationed at Snow's orders; according to him, we can't have a Victory Tour if we don't have a Victor. With the guards in place, District Seven has given Violet a cold reception, but it's hard to tell if there are still violent sentiments lurking beneath.

I'm not sure that I believe the craziness, though. Six months have passed, and a lot can heal in that time. If District Seven really hated their own Victor so much that they wanted to kill her, wouldn't they have done it by now?

But I of all people know how little can heal in such a short period. The Games have haunted me since the day Violet left the Capitol, and it feels like they just finished yesterday. I spent six months preparing for them, perfecting every detail, and it became my life. The twenty-four tributes, their relationships, and their every move dictated my status in the Capitol and my future. Now that it's over, I hardly know what to do with myself.

What's worse is the guilt that has crept up on me. I know I shouldn't feel this way - the Games are in place for a reason, and tributes must die - but I feel responsible. Thinking about Kylie from District 10 and the way our wolf muttations ripped her apart makes me sick. Noctiluna is unbothered by it, clearly, but maybe she's just stronger than I am. And the end of the Games, the way I rigged it to kill Verity and Wyatt... now that the dust has cleared, I see how terrible it was, especially given the Victor we were left with. What would've happened if I'd led the tributes fight a fair battle?

And now Snow is calling me to his office, who knows what for. I'm expecting a legion of Peacekeepers to be waiting for me, guns pointed at the door. District Seven has been cold to Violet, but the rest of the Districts haven't been afraid to show their displeasure. The riots have started to die down now, but with the Victory Tour approaching, everybody in Panem is on edge.

"Here we are," the driver calls from the front, stopping the car in front of Snow's front gate. The guards nod at Acanthus and me, leading us to the front door.

Acanthus stays in the front corridor; he's not meeting with Snow, only some of his political advisors. I follow one of the guards through Snow's mansion, but I've memorized the way to his office by now. Only one trip up to that dark room is enough to remember for the rest of your life.

The metal door to Snow's office is heavy, and the guard grunts as he pushes it open. Inside, I'm relieved to see no Peacekeepers and no guns. That doesn't mean I'm in the clear, though.

"Mister Thorntree," Snow says, glancing up from his desk and gesturing to my usual seat. "Come on in."

My footsteps echo around the vast room as I sit across from the powerful man. He slides a piece of paper from his desk and into a drawer out of sight.

"I assume you've seen Ms. Chappelle's performance tonight," Snow tells me, because he knows I have. "Quite the actress, I must admit."

"She's a star," I shrug. "But time will tell how long she lasts. Acanthus thinks they'll eat her alive."

"Acanthus is a pessimist," Snow shrugs. "And he's usually correct."

Snow taps his desk, and a holograph appears in the air. He slides his fingers across it, and a picture appears.

"District Six," he tells me. On-screen, I see graffiti on the inside of a subway tunnel.

All of the people who ever trusted you will be DEAD...

By now, I recognize the quote. It's one of the last things Lucas said to Violet before she killed him. Snow swipes his screen, and another picture appears.

"District Eleven," he says.

I see a mural scrawled across the side of a barn. It's a crude depiction, but it's still easy to recognize: there's Violet, scribbled out in paint, stabbing Eddie through the stomach with her blade. Beneath the image, in broken letters: THE ENEMY WITHIN.

"I'm sorry, sir," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I can feel his gaze on me, and I want to disappear. All of this is my fault... Snow was right when I first met him, and I didn't believe him at the time. He told me how integral these Games were to our society, how quickly they can flip Panem on its head, and I doubted him. Now I see what he meant, and it's too late to turn back.

"I see now what you meant," I admit. "The power that these Games have... I tried my best to steer them in the right direction. These unintentional consequences are troubling. They've kept me up at night."

"Don't apologize," Snow chuckles a bit, switching his holograph off. I glance up, surprised at his response.

"You've given me exactly what I wanted, Caius," Snow says, his voice low. He leans forward, tapping his fingers on the desk. "The Districts hate her, and they hate each other. It's a beautiful thing, if you think about it. The human capacity to hate is so vast, and yet so confined at the same time. You know what happens when the Districts hate each other, when they want a Victor from another District dead? They don't hate us so much anymore. They've begun to hate the players, and not the Games. A fantastic concept."

Snow's words relieve my fears - I'm not going to die today - but something still nags at my mind. "But sir, Violet is still in danger," I remind him. "The point of these Games is the hope of survival. How can we expect tributes to kill each other if Victors are being killed, too?"

"If I had to worry about the fate of every filthy District child, I wouldn't have time to do my job," Snow shrugs. "In six months, the Games begin again, and the cycle repeats. If Violet Chappelle isn't around to see the festivities, somebody will take her place soon enough."

Snow's words nauseate me, and suddenly everything becomes clear.

I shouldn't be here.

I never should've taken this job, and now I understand why. Snow doesn't care if Violet dies, and I know Acanthus doesn't either. If Ansel had won instead, it wouldn't have made a single difference to them. But it does to me. I care about these tributes, and I feel like their blood is on my hands. Maybe there are people out there who can do it - I'm sure Noctiluna would be a great fit - but I can't.

"Well," Snow says, reclining in his chair. "We will see our Victor soon enough. I have a feeling that the Districts will rattle her before she arrives. And once that's over, it'll be time for planning. I'm excited to see what Arena designs you've been coming up with."

"Thank you, sir," I nod, shaking his hand before rushing out of the room. I don't have the courage to say it yet, but I know that the 99th Games will have to go on without me. My time as Gamemaker is done... good riddance.

A/N - Looks like Caius has had an interesting change of heart! And he seems to have a lot of information from the Districts, we'll see what actually happens during and after Violet's victory tour.

Next chapter will be the Tour, I'm sure it'll be juicy so I'm excited to write it!

(Also, for some extra bonus lore stuff: in the 99th Games, Daisy Landry from District 12 became the Victor, and the Gamemaker was executed as a result, so Caius dodged a bullet here!)

~S