"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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The unrest in the districts didn't improve as the date for the Quarter Quell announcement drew closer. Dahlia and Alaric barely left their house in the Victors' Village anymore, simply to avoid the observant stares of the Peacekeepers watching their every move. It seemed the Capitol was cracking down on the districts, punishing them into submission. District Five was particularly opposed to the cruel regime, beginning to fight back more than ever. They were searching for a sign, someone to call them to action. No one knew it yet, but they were waiting for the Black Dahlia to rise from the spark lit by the Girl on Fire.
"It's chaos out there." Dahlia comments nervously, listening to the distant screams of her fellow citizens being made into examples for the rest of them. Punishments were always public occasions as a warning of what was come to anyone who ventured down the same path. But they were difficult to watch and always left a bitter taste in the mouths of any onlookers. The two Victors did their best to avoid it when they could.
Alaric sighs dejectedly, feeling powerless to help. There wasn't much the two of them could do and they hated sitting around doing nothing. Closing the curtains to block out the world, the lonely pair tried their best to ignore the hellscape their district had turned into. This was what their little family had been reduced to. Just the two of them hiding away in a big house with far too many empty rooms while turmoil reigned outside their windows.
"It'll all be alright, flower." Alaric tries to soothe her, but even he is unconvinced by his words. Times had never been so uncertain. No one knew what the next day would bring and it was terrifying, to say the least. "We just need to focus on this Quarter Quell announcement and get through the Games without too much trouble."
"That's easier said than done." Dahlia grumbles unenthusiastically, watching Alaric flop down onto the couch next to her. "I wonder what delights Snow has in store for us this year."
"I dread to think what goes on in that man's mind." Alaric retorts with a dramatic shudder just to elicit a small laugh from Dahlia's lips. It's so rare to see her happy these days. Most of the time she wanders around the house like a ghost. The only one who seems to manage to keep the smile on her face is Finnick, but he's in his own District waiting for the announcement.
Nothing is quite as unpredictable as the Quarter Quells. They are seen as momentous events and usually met with a great deal of anticipation from the Capitol. But it added even more stress to the shoulders of citizens in the districts. When all rules are thrown out the window, no one is safe from the torment of the Games.
The screen in front of them erupts with cheers as Snow steps onto the podium. Dahlia's eyes narrow just at the sight of the man who is the mastermind behind all of her nightmares. She wills him to feel all the rage flowing through her body before Alaric gently envelopes her hand in his own and hushes her, "Calm yourself, flower. You can't hurt him through a screen."
"I can try." Dahlia mutters stubbornly but backs down nevertheless as Snow's voice booms loudly through the living room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," His voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Dahlia but she forces herself to listen carefully to his words. "This is the 75th year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of the Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol." Dahlia despises the formalities of this announcement, wishing he would just hurry up and put them out of their misery. Snow sure knows how to prolong their suffering. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell," He pauses to allow the audience their chance to cheer as he lifts the card up to his eyes. Leaning forward in her seat, Dahlia grips Alaric's hand anxiously as a horrible feeling settles in her stomach. Something tells her Snow is about to drop a bomb on them. "As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."
Boom... The bomb hits.
Dahlia's cold, black heart clenches in pain and her hand slips from Alaric's. The girl says nothing as she rises to her feet with shock and betrayal written all over her face. Her hands shake, matching the trembling shivers of her convulsing body as she shakes her head in horror.
"Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day regardless of age, state of health or situation." That's the last Dahlia hears of the broadcast before Alaric switches it off.
Dahlia feels her body crumble under the crashing weight of realisation. Everyone she loves is a Victor. Alaric, Johanna, Mags... Finnick. Her darling Finnick. As if they all haven't suffered enough already, Snow decides to lump them all back in the arena that broke them in the first place.
"No... They-- They can't do that." She stutters in despair, chest heaving with laboured breaths and bottom lip quivering. "They can't do this. W-- Why-- What--"
"Flower..." Alaric starts, pushing himself up from the couch and slowly approaching her like she's a wounded creature.
"No!" Dahlia screams out, flinching away from Alaric's comforting hand as it nears her shoulder. "They've already taken everything! What more do I have to give? I can't do this again! Please, I can't--" Her breathing becomes erratic and uneven, lungs burning painfully as she tries to gasp for air.
Why is Snow so intent on destroying the monsters he's created? Everything Dahlia has done over the last few years was to ensure she wouldn't lose the few people she had left in the world. And now, Snow was tossing her back into an arena with her loved ones and expecting only one to walk out alive. This time, Dahlia was certain it wouldn't be her.
"Dahlia, listen to me." Alaric demands sternly, his hands outstretched warily while still maintaining the distance between them. "You and I both know this isn't about us. It has nothing to do with the Victors."
Nodding her agreement, Dahlia's fists clench in anger as she finally realises why this Quarter Quell has been arranged. "Katniss." She hisses venomously, her grief slowly morphing into resentment and rage. As if she needed another reason to dislike the Girl on Fire.
"Exactly." Alaric confirms, slowly inching his way closer to the skittish girl. "He wants Katniss dead without making her a martyr."
"He'll have no trouble there." Dahlia declares, straightening up her spine in determination. "I'll kill her myself." As she storms forward with a resolute purpose, Alaric halts her movements by wrapping his arms around her in a tense embrace. "What are you--"
Alaric shushes the girl, eyes darting discreetly around to the hidden cameras littering the living room. "They're watching us, Flower." He whispers lowly into her ear, clinging to Dahlia with a forceful grip. At his words, Dahlia's body freezes up but Alaric disguises it by hugging her tighter.
"How do you know?" Dahlia asks quietly, wrapping her arms around her father figure to keep up the ruse.
"If those Capitol bastards think they can infiltrate my house and riddle it with cameras without my knowledge, they've got another thing coming." Alaric grunts out bitterly, remembering the day he came home and realised something wasn't quite right in the building. Something had changed and he knew exactly why. "They have eyes and ears everywhere, which is why I need to tell you this now... Rebellion is coming." Dahlia fights the urge for her eyes to widen in surprise, keeping her face as neutral as possible to avoid suspicion. "Katniss has sparked resistance in the districts and the people are fighting back. Which is why I need you to trust me."
Dahlia has too many questions for Alaric bubbling in her mind but all of them lead back to her anger at Katniss. "What--"
"We're running out of time, Flower." Alaric interrupts quickly, growing ever aware of the camera lenses burning into his skin. "I need to know if you can trust me... and if I can trust you?"
Is she willing to set aside her fury in favour of trusting the man who has shaped who she is today? Dahlia isn't sure. There are not many people she wholeheartedly believes she can trust. She used to trust her family until they turned their backs on her. She used to trust her district until they cowered away whenever she passed by. She used to trust herself... but her mind has betrayed her too many times.
Finnick always said he would put his life in her hands. Dahlia couldn't help but disagree with his faith. Her hands have been responsible for the downfall of many innocent lives. They are submerged in the blood of the victims they've slaughtered. They are scarred, bruised and beaten. Even the devil would shudder at the sight.
But Finnick was so sure. He blindly put his trust in a broken young girl with nothing but pain in her eyes. If a golden angel like him could find the light in the darkest depths of the Black Dahlia's heart, then she could wash her hands clean of their crimson stains. She could learn to trust herself again.
