PREDATOR | THE HUNGER GAMES

LIFE AFTER DEATH

"Hey, hey, hey, back off her!"

The guards had begun to drag a hysterical Lara back to her floor, but it brought a lot of attention. One passerby in particular, who apparently wasn't supposed to be on that floor in the first place, came running to her rescue.

He pried the guards off and swore them away. He promised to take her off their hands-they agreed since their job became much easier.

Lara was stuck in her head until then. She could only think of Snow, her dead parents, and how the lives of those she cared for in District 9 were in danger. Flashes of the games final moments exploded in her head, just like the bombs she'd set off.

His hands grasped her arms firmly, causing her to scream. Her wild eyes met his calm ones; something about them willed her to relax. He was steady, anchoring her to the world as she came back from her mental hell.

"Hey, it's alright," he cooed, "They're gone. It's just you and me now."

He led her over to the glass wall that overlooked the city. Both of them lowered to the ground-Lara pressed herself as far away from the man as she could. Who knew what dangers he possessed?

He immediately noticed the action and slightly smiled. Holding his hands up in surrender, he backed up and gave her some space between them.

She shivered and brought her arms into her huddle. The sobs that racked her body took over completely. Actually, she wasn't sure any tears were coming out anymore. Her body shook and rocked. Eyes were bloodshot. Breathing erratic.

She wanted the man to leave her alone but he simply sat there, arms wrapped around his legs and staring out the window. She wanted to shrivel in peace, not while he was watching.

This isn't what I'm supposed to look like. This isn't the victor image. This is embarrassing.

She moved to wipe her tears, ready to pull herself together.

"Don't do that."

She froze and turned her watery eyes on his own. It was as if he could read her thoughts.

"You're mourning. It's best to let it out now rather than later," he advised, "It's not as acceptable by the people of Panem when it's later."

Something about him seemed familiar. She wasn't in the right state of mind to find out why. But his aura pushed her to listen.

"They don't like to see our pain. It ruins the victory for them...or so President Snow says."

Her body tensed at his name, and he sighed as if he expected that reaction.

"Snow is a very powerful man. For as long as he's alive, he will take over your life," he said truthfully. It was as if he was speaking from experience, "It won't be peaceful. After the games, nothing will ever feel normal to you again."

She scoffed and wiped at her nose.

"That's a great pep talk."

He cracked a smile, which surprisingly influenced a smile of her own.

He glanced out the window again. She followed his gaze and found a small garden below them, filled with innocent children-Capitol children that would never fear reaping day. Warren was still hiding in the bushes beside them, Lara's baton still lodged in his chest. The kids made her worry for Atlas' siblings.

"So what do you do?" she murmured. Their eyes met again, "About living the rest of your unpeaceful days?"

He shrugged, "There are ways to help. It's been said that people who experience the same trauma as you are good company. You're not the only victor, you know. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two from us."