𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝 - 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌

fourteen.

Arena

Day six

____

AUGUST RAN AS fast as he could, not thinking about what he might see when he gets to Bishop. Sweat dripped in waves over him, warming his body to a dizzying temperature. Pearl's drripped into his eyes, but he simply wiped them away.

When he finally got to his destination, he couldn't have guess what he would see. Well, technically he could have, but at the same time he couldn't possibly know that it would look the way it did.

Aaron stood with a wide grin right under a big tree, in a headlock he had Harlow, whose face was blue from the lack of oxygen, her hands clawed desperately at Aaron's arm. A few metres away from him laid Bishop, his blonde hair was dyed red, as a pool of blood soaked under him into the earthy ground, leaving it muddy. August was close to puking at the sight. A crestfallen look took over his face and he couldn't keep his eyes on the young boy any longer. He felt horrible. Sick.

Aaron suddenly took his attention by crackling.

"Sorry, about the kid, man. But don't worry you will be joining him soon." Just as he said those words, August heard a rustling coming from behind him, and without a second thought he lifted his axe and threw it at the approaching figure.

The girl from District two, Ciara, didn't even stand a chance, as the axe flew right into her chest. An immediate cannon followed, announcing her death. As well, as August's first kill. The dark haired teen couldn't look away from her unmoving body. Her chest didn't lift to indicated breathing, her eyes didn't blink as they started emptily into the sky. He killed her. He was a murderer. Now the Capitol did it, they made him one of them. A murderer. 

August almost cried then and there. He just murdered someone. And it scared him how simple it felt. How he didn't even have to convince himself to do it. He just did it. And the ease at which he did it, was what scared him shitless. Though not as much as the void of emotions he felt about it.

He didn't care that she was dead. He couldn't care less, whether she lived or died. What he cared about was that he was now a murderer. A cold blooded murderer.

He looked away from the corpse, not even bothering to take out the axe, as he couldn't even look at it without feeling disgusted. He didn't know if he was even gonna be able to look at an axe again, without thinking about the kill that made him a murderer.

When a second cannon sounded, he was pulled from his thoughts. August spun around and looked at a satisfied Aaron. The district two boy, had snapped Harlow's neck and now smiled sinister at August.

August couldn't feel a thing, except guilt. Guilt for leaving Bishop. Guilt for killing Ciara. Guilt for thinking that Harlow might be a traitor to him, without even trying to ask her what she was doing with Aaron. Was she even planning anything? Or was she just a chess piece in Aaron's messed up spiel.

August didn't know. But he did know, that he had to avenge Harlow and avenge Bishop, whether Aaron actually killed him or not.

"I know what you might be thinking-" Aaron started, kicking Harlow's body away from him. The gesture brought hot anger towards August as he watched her lifeless body follow Aaron's instructions. Her neck was in a disgusting angle. It looked sickening. And if he was in any other mental state, he would have probably puked at the sight. But he didn't. Instead he glared at Aaron, not able to move at all.