Reputation (Finnick Odair)

Prologue |

     Atlas Fox only cried once in the arena. That time was the second the last gong rang out signalling the girl at her feet was dead. She fell to her knees directly into the girl's blood, happy tears streaming down her dirt-stained cheeks. She dragged her blood-stained hands down her cheeks, leaving a trail of blood over the already-bloody scar that drags across her nose. But her mind isn't on the dirt or blood surrounding her. No, her mind was on the protection she will receive in the capital. 

     The 66th Hunger Games were undoubtedly one of the most exciting the capital had seen in years, rivalling the one that had come before it where Finnick Odair had won. Not only was the winner only 15 but the girl had broken the record for most kills by one singular tribute in a game. 16 of 23 dead tributes were all murdered at Atlas's hands. It was no doubt invigorating to watch in the capital. The citizens were probably sitting in their homes on the edge of their seats.

     The girl had carried a sword throughout the arena, the ivory blade tainted red by the crimson of the fallen tributes. She felt no remorse as blood splashed across her features, being used to the sight. The guilt would catch up to her later of course but in the moment, she only sought her own survival. 

     "Ladies and gentlemen," a voice rings out, echoing across the arena, "May I present the winner of the 66th annual Hunger Games."

     But Atlas isn't listening. Instead, the girl is simply sitting in a puddle of blood and mud on the ground, the grime soaking into her clothes and coating her freckled skin. Her golden-blonde hair is tinted red and singed at the ends because of an astray forest fire. 

     Her mind is blank except for the ringing and echoing screams echoing around in her head. She forces a smile onto her face, pulling herself to her feet, dropping the ivory sword at her feet as she does. She looks up towards where the capital is no doubt broadcasting the victor and she grins, her arms sweeping out around her into a bow.

     If the girl knew anything, it was how to captivate an audience.