BLOODSPORT | johanna mason

01. Never Free

Everyone thought being a Victor meant you were free, received tons of money and had a reputation. That was only part of the reality of being a winner of the Games, except one thing: You're never free. You're still a possession to the Capitol, just more valuable than average citizens. Stricter rules, having to put on a facade, and even being sold to people in the Capitol. Riches and glory came with a deadly cost. Iris would unfortunately become one of them, she went through with the prostitution because she didn't want President Snow killing her family. However, she wouldn't dare to tell a soul about this. Snow was always watching and listening.

But let's rewind, shall we?

The remaining tribute stood above the dead body of Jade Lancaster. She wasn't recognizable, there were too many slash marks and the blood that followed. The image of Jade's expression burns into the back of her mind — the fear in her eyes, how she was about to scream in her final moments but didn't have the chance to. The girl drops the switchblade, shutting her eyes tight and trying to forget the fear, the urge to sympathize - she was a Career. Not a wimp. Iris clenched her jaw, mentally telling herself she had to be strong. This was a victory. She was alive. She won. The brunette exhales heavily, soon opening her eyes and her lips tug upward into a smirk. She won the Hunger Games and proved everyone wrong who doubted her.

It wasn't long before the aircraft came to the dome and retrieved the winner, immediately going to tend to her wounds. Her broken bone was worse than before since Jade was stepping on her ankle. The best they could do was give her a cast and crutches. With all of this advanced technology and surgeries they could perform, why couldn't the doctors offer something like that for her injury? Could those options even be available?

Iris stayed in the hospital room of the aircraft, which she didn't bother complaining about. She was thankful to be alive and have the injuries looked over. The girl could finally rest without any interruptions. Her eyes closed and within seconds, she passed out. For the remainder of the flight, she was asleep and luckily had no nightmares. She didn't know how long the trip took, but when she woke up - they were at the Capitol. She rubs her eyes in confusion, but remembers the interviews all the victors do after winning. Luckily, that will be filmed tomorrow.

She had no idea what day it was or the time, but stepping out of the aircraft - it appeared to be evening. Iris followed the guards inside, finding herself back in the Training Center. It wasn't a surprise to see her mentor, Davion, and her escort, Seraphina, again.

"I knew you could do it, Iris." Davion smiled, patting her shoulder.

Tears were forming in the escort's eyes, waving a hand in front of her face so she wouldn't cry. "We're so proud of you, darling... But go wash up and get rest. You deserve it."

Seraphina meant no harm with those words, and it was obvious she needed to bathe - her skin was covered with dried blood, dirt and looked like a mess. It was going to be a challenge with a cast on her foot though.

The brunette doesn't bother with uttering a word, heading to her room and going to the bathroom. An Avox had to assist her with bathing which she didn't mind. All the girl could think about was climbing onto an actual mattress and falling asleep, then after the interview and ceremony - she could see her family. Iris slipped on a nightgown once out of the tub and immediately went to bed.

For a few hours, she had gotten a decent amount of sleep until a nightmare would sneak its way inside of her brain. It was about Jade, but this time - Iris was the one to die in the same tragic way: the puncture wounds to the face. The girl kept twisting and turning in her sleep, unable to wake herself up. At the last minute, she opened her eyes and gasped for air. Her heartbeat was racing and she breathed heavily. Iris sat up quickly, hands roaming her body to check if she was alive and breathing. She felt her face, checking if there wasn't evidence to this twisted dream being true.