𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 | ᴄ. ʜᴀᴅʟᴇʏ

He Said, She Said, He's Dead

A/N Thanks for over 6K reads :)

Clove must be clever as a fox. She knew she'd never be as big, or as strong as some of the other Careers, so she focused on learning stealth, and because of that she's that much more deadly. You'd hear someone like Cato or Thresh coming from ages away, you'd never hear someone as quiet as Clove. We didn't hear her. 

We didn't hear her when she snuck in the cave, we didn't hear her when she crept across the dirt towards us, we didn't hear her pull out a knife. I didn't even hear her cut Cato's wound back open, I only woke up when I heard Cato scream.

I hit my head sitting up so sharply, Cato's cry piercing my eardrums. And there she is next to me, not even half a meter away, Clove. She has that same look about her as she did when it all started, the hunger for blood, the thrill of the chase. She didn't need to have good aim to kill at this range, all she'd had to do was stick her knife into Cato's wound. It had probably almost cleared up, but I guess I'll never know.

I heard the thud of Cato's head smacking against the cave wall behind us, just like mine did mere seconds ago. He's out cold, but not dead. Not yet. 

Clove seems confident that he will die if she doesn't think that he hasn't already, because she turns to me next. I do the first thing I can think of, and scramble towards the exit. All I can do is hope she'll take the bait and follow me instead of staying to finish Cato off. My plan is a success, Clove chuckles and practically skips towards me in pursuit. 

Out in the open I regain my senses, scrambling to my feet, and picking up a tree branch off the ground, having left my axe in the cave. Clove flicks her wrist casually and the first knife comes hurtling towards the centre of my face, right in between my eyes. I dodge to the side, and I'm nicked on the ear. It sounds like the high pitched hum of a whistle, and a sticky spat of blood erupts out of the cut on my ear.

Clove frowns a little, clearly having expected a greater injury. She takes a few steps closer this time, and tries again, this time I get a knife point lodged in my calf. I spit out a curse, muttering a string of rather colourful words at Clove.  She seems satisfied that she's wounded me a little, but her urge is not satiated, and now she comes closer still. Her fingers slip around one of her last blades, and her practiced hand doesn't even quiver. 

This time I'm hissing in pain, a small, steel blade sticking out of my shoulder. My breaths become a little more laboured, everything gets a little foggier, and Clove launches herself at me. She carries a lot of strength in that slender body of hers, or maybe it's just that I'm lacking in force to stop her. 

Clove doesn't pant, or hesitate, but she's not ready to get on with murdering me yet, she wants to enjoy it, relish in it.

Her eyes scare me. They're feral, a predator's eyes. She pries the branch out of my clenched fingers, running her hands up and down the bark while she settles her weight on my waist. If I could just throw her off. . .

Clove sets down the branch beside her, leisurely pinning my arms to the ground. "Don't think about trying to throw me, 12." She whispers. "Don't even think about it, or I'll end you like Marvel ended Rue." 

Anger is a powerful feeling, it can cause a lot of different things. It can cause rash decisions, crippling grudges, but it can also be a very productive emotion. Right now? Anger is all I have. 

I thrash beneath Clove like the ocean, wildly kicky out my legs in an attempt to toss her off of me. 

"What did I say about trying to throw me off." She spits, regaining control. Her very last knife is unsheathed, and she drags is slowly across my cheek. I don't feel pain, I feel angry. "Rue died because you left her, how does that feel?" I feel mad.