𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍, finnick odair

― 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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chapter nineteen: ladies and gentlemen, the victor of the 68th hunger games...

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𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎. Her allies are dead, if not currently in the process of dying. Her brother, too, is dead. Everyone she once loved and held dear is gone or dead or far away from her. The thought of redemption― of getting revenge for her brother― no longer exists. She's done that. She's killed all the Careers― all of them but one. And he's next on her hit list. The only thing she has left now is anger. Fury. Vindication.

And it's all directed at Blake.

Which is why, when Visha swings her katana at her opponent, her only thought is of ending everything.

She slashes her weapon through the air with every intent of raining down pain. Blake dodges, the frenzied grin still on his face. He swings his mace, hitting her right in the gut.

Visha stumbles back a few steps.

Her chest heaves, her breathing shallow and scattered from the impact.

Still, her eyes narrow and her grip on her sword tightens.

She lunges at Blake once more, this time striking at his side. Her attack leaves a deep cut on the side of his stomach.

Blake growls in anger.

He advances on her, all hints of mania gone.

Raising his right arm, he twirls the mace over his head once, twice, three times before going for her head.

She ducks just in time.

Anger rising at the thought of being beheaded, Visha runs at Blake a second time. This time, she feints right and then sweeps her sword under his feet.

He jumps up to avoid having his ankles slashed. Losing balance, Blake stumbles forward.

Visha hits him in the back with the hilt of her katana, further gaining the upper hand. She sends him sprawling forwards.

He loses his balance, falling towards the ground.

Visha kicks the mace out of his hand for good measure.

As Blake hits the ground face-first, a victorious smile spreads over Visha's face. She advances on the body of the fallen boy, clenching her katana tighter. She lifts up her sword, both hands on the hilt, and prepares to strike downwards.

Before she can stab Blake, however, he reaches out a desperate hand, grabbing and clawing at her ankle.

He pulls Visha down and, with a heave, flips them over so that he is on top.

His hands find her neck and Blake presses hard, restricting Visha's access to air.

Small, ragged gasps escape her throat as she struggles to catch a breath. Blake's fingers tighten around her windpipe.

Visha's lungs burn as she makes a last-ditch effort to get his hands off her. She reaches up with shaky hands, grasping Blake's wrists and clawing at his skin. Her sharp nails rake down his skin, drawing blood.