Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Hey guys, this is a very dark chapter, for it's about torture, violence, and physical amputation. If you are not up for deep gore or emotional conflict, then scroll down to the last paragraph; otherwise, you've been warned.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games trilogies or the original characters. This chapter was inspired by an episode of Nikita called Wrath.
Chapter 56: Dark Side
Blaine's POV
A bolt of electricity shot through my arms and legs. The searing pain jabbed directly into my spine, causing my body to jet forward. I ground my teeth, trying to suppress the screams that wanted to express how much pain I was in. How it felt like little voltage sparks injected into my wrist and boiled me alive. Blood exploded in my mouth from biting my tongue, bringing back horrid memories. Suddenly, the current stopped, and my body went limp. My heart raced, my lungs burning for air, as I looked up through heavy eyes to see Damon amused with a remote in hand while the video camera was recording.
I always channel my emotions into my work. That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself.
Cinna had it all wrong. If you show defiance towards the Capitol, you and the people you love will suffer. So many emotions burned inside me: anger, betrayal, rage, and, most notably, used. My crimes haunted me, for all the sins I did were under President Snow's authority. The torture inflicted on me wasn't against my action but to make Cinna suffer until he breaks. I knew Cinna was a black sheep in the Capitol with a creative mind, except I didn't consider the option of him being a rebel. Just someone who liked to push boundaries. I initially had some doubts but shoved it aside, thinking irrationally. Now I see the truth.
I asked for District 12.
For a second, I thought he actually cared about us, only to discover he used me to get close to the Profit Circle. I thought he cared about the team: Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Portia, Effie, and me. Now, his true colors show his loyalty to a girl who can't make a proper decision. A girl who gets everyone in danger. Why do I have to be punished for her actions? Why is everything about Katniss? Why can't anybody see that President Snow has won? He has an army, both in the Peacekeepers and those hidden in the shadows. A snake with power through politics and poison.
"You truly have a terrible taste in men," Damon murmured, walking up so he could stand right before me.
"What do you want?" I whispered harshly.
"What do I want is your lover to sing all the answers I require," Damon chuckled, walking around towards a table with arranged interrogation instruments from knives, needles, and other tools. "He's a tough shell," he murmured, his hand gliding over the metal instruments. "I had the Peacekeepers beat him up with spike knuckles. Even Augusta had given him a few punches. Along with cutting the tip of his finger. He hardly screamed."
"That's hardly a sample," I said tiredly.
Damon was the master of interrogation and torture. Every person he had interrogated suffered traditional or foreign torture that he read in books. He once bragged that he killed a man by using bamboo shoots. Methods that had been long forgotten centuries or thousands of years ago. Damon likes to be creative with certain prey. Although, I should be considerate that he keeps it original with electrocution, waterboarding, beating, and sleep deprivation. I guess I'm not that special for some sadistic torture scheme other than making a rebel snap.
I don't know how long I've been here since there was no clock. Constant arrays of being shocked. When Damon left, he would take a syringe and inject it into my neck before leaving. But not without blaring this vibrating noise.
"Yes, though he seemed more controversial in his loyalty than his life." He murmured. "So, let's see if seeing somebody he cherishes being tortured. Since his mother is oblivious to her son's activities, I must settle with you. Say 'Hi!' to the cameras we're live."
A sinister smirked and raised his lip as he picked up a pocket knife.
I looked at the cameras disgustedly, wondering if Cinna was feeling anything. Does he even care about me at all while I suffer through his actions?
"I'm going to enjoy doing this to you. Feel free to scream. No one will hear you except the camera." He said, pressing the button on the remote.
An electrical current crackled before electricity shot through me painfully. I bit my lips, trying to suppress the scream for his satisfaction, but that didn't stop the agonizing muffle noise from escaping. A moment later, the current cut off. I leaned forward, panting, whimpering, and choking for air. Damon leaned against the wall, ready for another round.
.o0o.
Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours. I don't know how long this nightmare went on as I was being electrocuted. My wrists and ankles were searing in pain. Burning, that I could barely grip my hands. As burn marks could be seen of reds, browns, and blacks.
I tried to regulate the pain by thinking about other things.
Anything, but the pain physically and emotionally was taking over.
I don't understand what is happening in the Games, as I thought of my friends who are either fighting to stay alive or dead. Before the Peacekeepers arrested me, only eight tributes died at the cornucopia.
Watt, Jett, Seeder, Abby, Graham, Sylva, Woof, and Cecelia.
Watt was killed by Finnick, being stabbed in the stomach by his trident.
Jett, he struggled swimming even with the flotation device until Colton got a hold of him. Beating Jett up to a point he can't focus and drown him.
Seeder, she was helping Cecelia as they tried to flee into the jungle only to be met with knives in their back from Cashmere and Gloss.
Woof, so lost and confused, Enobaria came up to him from behind and snapped his neck.
Graham managed to get a sword, yet Finnick killed him.
Sylva, she was stabbed by Brutus's spear.
Abby tried to fight them off to make her escape, yet Enobaria killed her with a sword.
I tried to get those images of their deaths out of my head. However, Damon being sadistic kept bringing them up. Tears burned my eyes, wondering who else had died. Has Katniss or Peeta? I am their mentor and I am unable to help in getting them sponsors and the supplies they need. What about Mags? She is so frail, can Finnick keep her safe? Finnick, did he die trying to protect her and the supposed alliance with the Star-Crossed Lovers. Johanna, last I recalled, managed to escape the Bloodbath with Blight, along with Beetee and Wiress. Yet any of them could be dead now.
Cashmere
Gloss
Enobaria
Brutus
Wiress
Beetee
Mags
Finnick
Elektra
Fara
Johanna
Blight
Colton
Chaff
Katniss
Peeta.
Their names repeated over and over in my head. Some way to drown out the buzzing noise that echoed throughout the room. Damon had left for a moment. Either to rest or to torture Cinna. I didn't bother looking at the camera. My limbs were numb but at the same time in agonizing pain.
I kept thinking of their names, until falling unconscious.
Suddenly, Damon forced the iron rack into a horizontal position, tossing a bucket of freezing water on my face. I gagged from the sudden temperature change, water invading my eyes, nose, and mouth, causing me to cough. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to face another camera from above.
"Day 2, the suspect still hasn't confessed as the victim went twelve hours through electrocution and sleep deprivation. The next step to be taken is waterboarding." Damon said into a recorder, then leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Let's see if this fazes Cinna?" he let go of my chin, grabbed some cellophane, and wrapped it around my face. I struggled as the plastic wrap sealed any source of breathing. "By the way, Blight and Mags are dead."
And with that said, he poured freezing water on me. My gag reflexes became active, suffocating me till the plastic ripped, causing an extensive amount of water into my mouth, drowning me. I had no idea how long this went on, let alone coherent, when he removed the cellophane and lifted the rack vertically again. I choked and gagged, puking out water all over me when the electrical crackle was heard. I screamed, trying to tell him don't, yet pain ruptured through my body…. only this time intense as the water conducted the electricity that I wailed out. Not long after, I blacked out.
However, Damon wasn't done with me. He snapped a small casing of ammonia under my nose, instantly waking me up. I panted, trying to understand what had just happened. Then I remember Beetee once saying something about how water can conduct electricity. Something that should not mix together.
Damon nodded, putting the ammonia stick back in his pocket. His eyes narrowed as a predator, "Don't tell that is all you got. I was expecting so much more. Remember the first time that we met. The first time I saw you personally. The private meeting with President Snow? You were seventeen, wearing that black dress, and you were deviant."
He leaned down to my face, violating personal space, "God, you were beautiful. "
I was so exhausted that my vision became hazy, and I was about to fall unconscious. The day we first met was when I was forced into the Profit Circle. When President Snow requested Damon to teach me some merciful trick in deception. How to torture a person without leaving a mark. The day I sold my soul to the devil.
"Hey, stay with me." Damon gently shook my shoulder in a caring manner, waking me up. "You know what helps?" he pointed at his temple. "You pick a point in your mind and focus on it. Something that'll keep you going…. since your previous objectives deceived you." Suddenly, he combed his fingers through my hair; instinctively, I flinched away, trying to evade his touches. "I don't know how I would feel if my father had chosen another kid than me. Probably jealous, if not furious, about the lack of family love? Also, do your friends want to ally with that same kid or kids instead of being selfish? And finally, discovering your lover is a traitor in more ways than one. The same lover you've been trying to protect from the people you feared. Now I would feel something…."
Hatred-burning tears slid down as I glared at the ceiling, knowing the tactics he was using. Emotional manipulation: exploits the victims' overwhelmed condition and controls it. Messing with one's emotions is more damaging than breaking the person's bones, for feelings take longer or never able to heal properly. This wouldn't faze me, but he was right. I spent my objectives keeping everyone safe, only to be abandoned for a stupid girl.
"Want to know what kept me going? He asked, wiping the tears away. "Was the thought of winning this war." He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "How I want to make my enemies suffer, hearing them scream and beg for their lives. I was intrigued during those weeks of training. I enjoyed watching your Game. It kept me entertained when the dark side of you was out. There's a beast in every person, and it stirs when you put a blade in their hand."
"The girl you saw wasn't me," I hissed, through clenched teeth.
"Hmm…." Damon raised a brow.
"I was in the Games." I continued. "I was forced to play for the Capitol. They made me do terrible things."
"Must've been hard." He taunted, letting go of my chin.
"I'm serious," I exclaimed, leaning forward only to get shocked by the electricity. No longer able to control myself, I snapped, glaring at Damon through burning eyes. "I hated what they made me do. Forcing me to kill children who were my age and suffer through the harsh environments. Everything and everyone was trying to kill me. The same people who you followed orders from. The same people who kill innocent children!"
"Then why didn't you get out."
"I couldn't," I panted.
"You could've killed yourself." He suggested it naturally. "That would've been a way out, let another tribute suffer, but yet you chose to stay alive."
I had nothing to say and looked down. He was right. I could have died in the arena so I wouldn't have to experience the darkness- the true Hunger Games. Yet I killed five tributes anyway in order to stay alive, not for Haymitch but for myself. I didn't want to die. When I was suicidal, cutting my wrist, the door was left open, so Haymitch could see. Another door unlocked at the Training Center that Finnick barged into when taking drugs. I had a knife on my person, but it was never used. I had a gun in my hand only to shoot a traitor. Death was on me, and yet I used it on others.
"You didn't wanna get out. You just won't admit it." Damon chuckled. "Once you kill somebody, you never go back. I know you, Blaine, personally."
I wanted to cry, but my pride got in the way, and only my bottom lip quivered.
"We share something instinctive." He said, walking around. "Throughout the years, I saw behind the charades and the lies and caught a glimpse of your true identity. The girl who waits patiently, waiting for the opportunity to strike! The girl who used her wits killed two Careers and gave a tribute to some irony with the same wires that triggered the inner beast. That girl who killed five tributes is you."
I started to shake violently, shedding more tears as he stated the facts about the past. Damon picked up a long silver dagger and held it to my face. It was the same dagger I used in killing Leo four years ago. "The girl who used this enjoyed the results. That is the Canary! That is the real Blaine Abernathy!"
"Just kill me and get over it!" I yelled. "Kill me, and both ends suffer the same blow!"
Suddenly, Damon punched me in the face. "No. I'm not going to kill you unless President Snow orders it. So just relax. You're in for a long ride."
And with that said, he pressed the button on the remote.
.o0o.
Elektra and Fara were dead.
Damon had the decency to inform me how the Games were going after each death. It was still day two in the arena, leaving it a day since I had been here being tortured. From the information I know: Blight was killed by walking into a force field. Mags sacrificed herself to save Peeta, Finnick, and Katniss by running into a poisonous fog. Fara was camouflaged, when Finnick and the camouflaged others rushed in escaping the mist only to confront the first set of mutts, some sort of monkeys. One mutt tried to attack Peeta but Fara pushed him away to stop the blow. As for Elektra, she drowned in a tsunami.
Cashmere
Gloss
Enobaria
Brutus
Wiress
Beetee
Finnick
Johanna
Colton
Chaff
Katniss
Peeta.
I was crying inside, while outside, I became numb until another round of electricity. Twenty-four hours and still Cinna hasn't snapped in some room, tied up to some chair, while forced to watch some girl being tortured. Electricity was Damon's favorite tool. He never got bored from pushing the button that sent hundreds, if not thousands, of volts into his prey. Sometimes, he would lend a breather and change techniques. Such as waterboarding, beating me up as a result of a few broken ribs.
In the end, the rebel traitor remained silent.
Damon would leave now and then. However, before he left, he would inject something into me. I don't know why, but he kept injecting some sort of serum. It wasn't that fear serum. Nor was it morphling. Once he was gone, the blaring buzzing noise would come back.
There was little hope that Cinna actually cared about me. At least cared enough to give some Intel of the rebels or anything that could please Damon or President Snow. Only silence.
Maybe this was my punishment…in being a coward.
Maybe I should have died in the arena. Either let Leo or Lapis kill me. Or the yetis. I could have just jumped off the cliffs of the mountain. Or just take the opportunity after the games. I should have worked hard to be undesirable. Or perhaps…perhaps I should have volunteered. My last hurrah, be in the Games with Finnick and Johanna as a pack as we used to be.
That would have been something, I thought.
When Damon got back to electrocuting, he increased the level of voltage, causing the lights in the chamber to flicker, and I screamed to the point my throat hurt.
"Pain is only weakness leaving the body," I whispered continuously to myself.
"What did you just say?" Damon asked, leaning closer so he could hear properly.
I looked up and whispered, "Pain is only weakness leaving the body."
"True," he chuckled.
"And if you're gonna talk to me about the true evil inside us, then tell me who triggered your hate for humanity?" I challenged." Because all this bull shit doesn't need to be reminded, I would rather cut out your tongue so you could feel the pain of every Avox in the Capitol?" I said bitterly that the smug look on his face vanished. "What's the matter? Did daddy didn't love ya enough…. or did he beat you up to be a man? Maybe it was mommy who left the house on girl's night only to have an affair? Somebody must've hurt your feelings to turn a Capitol scum into a psychopath?"
Damon's face clenched and punched me in the stomach. I groan, doubling over to spit more blood over his shirt. When he pulled back, I saw how watery his eyes were, noting his family is a sensitive subject. A chuckle escaped from adrenaline, a conquest to pick a specific bone in Damon's character.
"You and I are exactly alike; only my dad is a mean old Mister, and mother is an angel in the ground." I smiled through breathy giggles. "I'm gonna tell ya a little secret…. I regretted the mission and the lies Snow put me through. But you're right. I enjoyed killing certain individuals, mainly the people who did the same oppression towards the innocent. And when I'm free, I'm gonna enjoy killing the evil monsters that turned an innocent girl into the Canary and cage her."
"You're insane!" Damon spat in my face.
"That's the pot calling the kettle black," I replied. "C'mon, you're the one who wants to make Cinna suffer. Make him snap by hurting the girl he loves, but are you sure he loves me. I mean, if he could bet, he'd bet on Katniss; isn't that a sign of affection?"
I was about to talk about Portia but stopped myself. Despite the pain I was in, I couldn't drag her into this mess. Or even Chanel. I had to sever ties to protect Chanel and her family. However, Cinna might have exposed his family to this mess.
The cell was engrossed in intense silence.
"The person I was in that arena is someone I locked away," I sighed, trying to breathe.
I hardly show her dangerous demeanor on the rules.
"I locked her down deep inside me and never showed it to the people I love since my privacy was diminished. Because if they knew of the Canary – the truth, they would've hated me." I growled out. "But now, in this cell, can we be honest? So c'mon, show me the real monster who mutilated countless people and made them disappear. You and I could spend eternity here, though the Games will be over sooner or later, and President Snow will get bored. And when he hears of how much you failed in making a stylist who created The Girl on Fire… Oh, how disappointed he shall be?"
The interrogator glared at me.
Unable to contain myself, I add salt to the wound, "Did Varick die, or did you have a heart to spare a threat? Snow seemed disappointed."
Damon snarled, punching me again in the stomach and face continuously till I was close to unconsciousness. However, he released the shackles on my arms and legs. I took this as an opportunity to attack. Forcing my arms forward, nails out to get Damon in the eyes.
My attack startled him, as we fell on the ground. I mustered all my strength to force him down, trying to wrap my hands around his neck. The damaged hands like embers that bled tighten around his neck. Nails digging into his throat. Damon grabbed my shoulder, and I shrieked, biting his wrist. He cried out, as blood gushed everywhere.
The door opened with two Peacekeepers barging in. Before I could respond, they tackled me to the ground. I thrashed, trying to get them off. Yet one punched me in the head, stunning me. The room was spinning, while Damon was barking orders.
Once more I was on the rack. However, my front was pressed against it, leaving my back exposed. Damon took a handkerchief he had in his pocket wrapping it around his wrist. He went over to the table, grabbing a whip.
Before I could react, a snap echo in the chamber followed by immense pain on my back. Hearing the snapping of each flick coil and snap on my back, breaking the skin
.o0o.
Wiress, Cashmere, and Gloss
Day two of the Games, and more deaths added to the fallen. Wiress was a good friend, even with her aloof stuttering. I respected Gloss, a decent acquaintance, even if he was a Career, and Cashmere, his sister…. I forgave. How each of their deaths was told, Gloss slicing Wiress's throat, which Katniss shot him with her arrow. This incident reminded me of last year's game, when Marvel, the boy from District One, stabbed Rue in the stomach with a spear while Katniss shot him with an arrow. How ironic that if Katniss killed Cashmere, making it double, she eradicated the careers of District One, except Johanna killed Cashmere. So much for history repeating itself in that department!
My body was barely holding on. All I felt was a lingering pain that was between numb and burning. I couldn't feel my back, let alone the blood dripping down my legs, creating a pool of concrete.
I lost count in how many times Damon whipped me. My mind falling apart and I became numb. Just accepting knowing there was no point in resisting. As the names of the surviving tributes continued.
Enobaria
Brutus
Beetee
Finnick
Johanna
Colton
Chaff
Katniss
Peeta.
My friends were still alive. Finnick, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta. Along with Chaff and Beetee. They were still alive, but for how long?
Although I went numb mentally, yet I wondered how Haymitch was doing. Is he worried about where I am? Then again, I'm no longer his daughter. That's how I feel about being neglected through the years. He knew some of the things I have done. Being prostituted. Being sold. And yet he did nothing. If only he knew the truth. That I killed outside the arena.
Damon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, nodding his head. I'm guessing he received a message from President Snow or some coworker observing Cinna's reaction. The earpiece glowed and flicked in a fluorescent blue light. My mind was still incoherent, though I recall my snowdrop earing glow from the corner of my eye in early spring. Shaking my head at the thought that the earrings on my person was some communication device.
"Very well," Damon said calmly and exited the room.
Once more, the blaring noise filled the room.
When he returned, he held a syringe with a clear liquid. It wasn't yellow like the other serums.
"What….is…that….?"
Damon stared at me, "I find how intriguing our nation's science and engineering department has advanced since the Dark Days."
I heaved knowing bioweapons became a thing since the creation of mutts.
"That is a thing about fear, it can last a moment, it could linger in your life, or it can traumatize you to a point of insanity. Like poor Annie," he murmured.
"Don't," I hissed.
Annie was never desensitized when she went into the arena. She wasn't a Career. And she witnessed her district partner be decapitated. Trauma mixed with fear….
"I wonder how much of your sanity you have left," he murmured. "After all you have experienced and witnessed." He then gave a dark chuckle. "Especially when you try to claw at my neck."
He tilted his chin up showing the bruising and dents on his neck.
I glared at him.
A smirk lifted his lips, "I think I'm close to breaking you."
I heaved rapidly wondering what he was planning, what else he would do to me. Unless, that serum in that syringe contains another fear simulation like before. How I hallucinated that giant snake.
"Don't worry, this is not like the other serums," he assured as he came over.
He grabbed my hair, forcing my head up to expose my neck. He injected the serum roughly, and I gasped out in pain. Yanking the needle out, Damon made his way over to the table collecting his next choice in weapon. My body began to shudder as a coldness seeped in.
Damon returned with a tray then set it down. He adjusted the rack to horizontal. Then took a strap securing it in place, impossible to move. Forcing me to face the camera from above. Seeing the red dot flickering. Afterwards, Damon brought the tray, setting it on my head where there was a metal bowl, some sort of scalpel, and wires?
"They say the eyes are the gateway to the soul," Damon murmured. "Let's see if you have a soul."
My body instantly fell into shock, absorbing what he just said. Immediately, I went into fight or flight mode, trying to break free from the restraints. Trying to break from the strap off my head. Yet the restraints kept me in position. Damon took hold of the wire speculums forcing them on my left eye. I screamed, feeling the discomfort. Once they were in, it was impossible to blink.
My heart beat fast to a point I don't know if it was beating. The image of the District One girl from the Second Quarter Quell came to mind. How Haymitch cut her eye out in combat. This wasn't punishment for Cinna anymore. This was the next step in making Haymitch suffer. To have his only daughter's eye removed violently. Tears wept as I begged Damon not to do this, only to have a leather strap shoved in my mouth.
"Better bite onto this," he said as he got into the position of the retractor.
"Please, stop!" I exclaimed through the leather strap. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
"This will only take a minute." He murmured and inserted the curve blade.
I screamed through the gag and felt horrible pain injected into my eyes as he roughly gouged it out.
.o0o.
"Now, that wasn't so bad," Damon stated, setting the rack vertically.
Blood oozed out from my left eye while everything appeared elusive or black. My throat was raw from screaming, and everything else was numb. Damon held the eyeball in his hand, running it in water to clean the blood off. Afterward, he placed it in a metal bowl filled with ice and exited the room.
I wanted to cry, but there was no use in crying. Damon had broken me. A sob escaped my lips, looking through the lone watery tear at the camera, hoping Cinna regretted everything he had done. All this happened because of him. Katniss may be the Girl on Fire who started a rebellion in Panem. But every fire begins with a spark, and Cinna was that spark.
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