𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄 |❀| In which Quinn Marshal, Victor of the 68th Hunger games is thrusted back into the games where she reunites with an old enemy Finnick Odair. Where Finnick's holds the record for youngest Victor, Quinn holds the record for most ki...
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𝐀s she weaved swiftly through the forest that slowly started crashing down on her. Ignoring the immense pain in her lower body. The sound of her heart thumping in her chest and her heavy breathing ringed through her ears as she only focused on eliminating her prey. This was it. They were down to the final two. Quinn and Felix. The male tribute from district 7. Her legs burned and her entire body ached. But she had only one thing on her mind, Murder.
𝐒he had already come to far to loose. If she knew one thing was for sure, it was that she was going to win this. Not him, Her. As the boy in front of her soon grew tired and slowed down, giving her just enough time to catch up and grab him by the collar. The two rolled around in the mud while throwing up punches at each other in a desperate attempt to eliminate each other. Quinn grunted as he smashed her face into the ground and she, with a very disgusted look, rolled onto her side and spat out the mouthful of dirt she had obtained.
𝐀pparently he thought it a great time to make his escape and tried to run away. To which he failed miserably. "You're not going anywhere!" Quinn grabbed his ankle and dragged him back over. The two grunted as they went back and fourth for what felt like years. At some point Quinn took a split second to breathe and he jumped onto of her grabbing her by the neck. He squeezed tight and she struggled to escape from his grasp. Just when she was about to loose consciousness she grabbed the last knife the was strapped to her leg and stabbed it into this hip.
𝐇e gasped and let go of her, holding onto his side. In a panic Quinn grabbed him by the shoulders and bit into his neck, hard. When she pushed him off his throat stayed with her. As she stood up and spat out the piece of skin she had ripped from his neck. The never ending blood that pooled out of her mouth and painted the ground beneath her. She looked down at the massacre in front of her. And with that the sound of the canon echoed through the arena announcing her as the Victor. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the winner of the 68th Hunger Games, Quinn Marshal!".
***
𝐓he memory kept playing over and over again in her mind. Like a video on an endless loop. Every night the same nightmare. As Quinn curled into a ball, hiding herself in the corner of the pitch black room, muttering her little affirmations. The lights flickered on and the door beeped open. "F-five more minutes!" She pleaded. "Ms Marshal its time" Apollo responded in that same robotic like voice every other peacekeeper had. "Please! Just five more minutes!" She shivered as they ignored her and grabbed her by the shoulders, slamming her down onto the chair in the centre of the room. One she did not recall being there before.
𝐄ver since the incident things had been different. They weren't as harsh with her as they were before. In fact they barely touched her anymore. (Not including just now). Besides the physical abuse every now and then, verbally they had been a lot kinder. They spoke to her as if speaking to a child. Talking slowly, dragging out their words. She wasn't incompetent, she was able to understand simple sentences. The questions were different, odd. 'What's your name?' Or 'What is your district?' Blah blah blah.
