STILETTO┃Finnick Odair

Prologue

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*

My heart is pounding in my chest as I scramble towards the source of the bloodcurdling scream, my mind racing with thoughts of what I might find. I arrive at the cornucopia, trying to stay calm. I take a deep breath and survey the arena, trying to find any sign of the last two tributes.

I hear another grunt, and in a split second, I whip my head around, my mind struggling to make sense of what my eyes are seeing. I sprint over and collapse to the ground, tears streaming down my face as I cradle Theo's limp and lifeless body. My best friend, my ally. Theo and I had made a pact to stick together until the bitter end, but we were forced to split when we realised there was only one person besides us left.

I realise that I have failed to keep my promise to protect him, and it seems as though the ground has fallen out from under me. I wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to shake myself out of this awful trance.

But the only thing I can do is look at my best friends still, pale face, my eyes fixed in shock. The sight of the blood spurting out of Theo's neck and the sound of his last breaths will be etched into my mind forever. I feel numb and disoriented.

That is, until my mind travels to the killer, Axel. Every fiber in my body is suddenly consumed with the desire for revenge. My mind is clouded with violent thoughts. I want to make Axel suffer as Theo did, to inflict the same pain he caused him. I frantically look around me, looking for any sign of him.

But before I know it, my sword is wrenched from my back, and I am ripped away from Theo.

I am on the ground.

Someone is on top of me. Talking.

I can't understand what is happening.

"I have been waiting for this since you killed my crew," Axel says, his thick breath hitting my face. He looks down at me with a sickening grin on his face. Finding amusement in my wide, unblinking eyes filled with horror. He pulls out a blade from his belt, and I come to my senses. In a millisecond, my hand is holding my stiletto, and the next, it's thrust it into his eye. He lets out a small scream and then silence.

I stare blankly at the ground. My heart pounds in my chest, and my hands shake uncontrollably. It's over. The Hunger Games are over. And I am the victor. But victory tastes bitter on my tongue, like ashes in my mouth.

I can feel the warm, sticky blood coating my face and making my hair stick together in clumps. The blood seems to have seeped into every crevice of my body, making me feel like I'm drowning in it. I try to wipe it off, but my hands tremble too much. Looking down at my blood-drenched clothes sends a shiver down my spine.

The sun sets behind me, casting long shadows across the arena. The air is still and quiet; the only sound is my own labored breathing. I feel as though I am suspended in time, trapped in this moment of grief and regret. I close my eyes and see Theo's face, his smile, and his laughter. And then I see his lifeless body, crumpled on the ground. The image is seared into my mind, a scar that will never heal.

I try to make sense of it all, but the darkness is overwhelming. The memories of the Games, of the horrors I have witnessed, of the atrocities I have committed, swirl around me like a whirlwind. And then, all at once, I am consumed by a wave of overwhelming sadness. I feel the tears streaming down my face, hot and unstoppable, and the sobs that wrack my body seem to come from a place deep within me. The weight of my grief is too much to bear, and I feel my consciousness slipping away from me. The last thing I remember before darkness claims me is the thought that, even as the victor, I have lost the one person who ever understood me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 68th annual Hunger Games"

I am lost in darkness.