"Long Live."
A hovercraft appears above us, its dazzling lights revealing two staircases descending from it. I quickly push my district partner away and don't hesitate for a single second to step onto the footrest, fearing that the Gamemakers might change their minds again. The electric current of the staircase paralyzes me as I watch the arena shrink beneath my feet while they lift me up. When I am freed inside the hovercraft, I am surrounded by a group of doctors dressed in lab coats, masks, and gloves. They appear to be anything but human.
I don't turn towards Cato, even though I sense his presence just a few meters away. We have made fools of ourselves, and it's both his and the Gamemakers' fault. We'll become the laughingstock of District 2.
If I'd had the upper hand, I wouldn't have hesitated for a single wretched second to murder him. In fact, that has been my plan from the beginning. Now, we look like a pair of idiots in front of the entire country. Another thing I can't understand is why the Gamemakers changed the rule for the second time when they could have simply sent their mutations to finish off one of us. Why would they want to create inconveniences at their own games? It doesn't make any sense.
I snap back to reality as I feel the doctors starting to cut my clothes to examine my wounds. Instinctively, I punch one of them; and the metallic tools smash to the ground, creating a deafening sound that makes my teeth hurt. They hold both my arms to immobilize me, and the last thing I feel is a sharp prick in my neck.
As I wake up, I feel disoriented. The ceiling glows with dim lights, and there are no doors or windows. I lie on a bed in the middle of an entirely empty room. The air smells of antiseptic, and I have no way of knowing how much time has passed since they pulled me out of the arena. Usually, it takes around two to three days between the end of the games and the presentation of the victor. I assume it's an essential time to treat any injuries.
I pull both arms out from under the blanket that covers my naked body and notice a small linear scar on my left forearm, where I had been shot with an arrow. My nails have also been cleaned and groomed, with no trace of dirt or blood remaining. Several tubes protrude from my right arm, connecting to the wall behind me, presumably for medication.
A section of the wall slides open like a door, and an Avox boy enters with a tray. He places it on my lap and presses a button, elevating me into a sitting position. He quickly leaves as soon as he sees that I can feed myself, avoiding eye contact the entire time. The tray contains a small bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a whitish paste with a sweet scent. I have no idea what it is. The sight of the food makes me feel nauseous, but I force myself to finish the ration, assuming that my body must need the nourishment. I eat in silence, taking small bites, scared that I might throw up at any given moment.
The silence brings comfort, but it doesn't last. Memories of the arena rush back, but they feel hazy and confusing. Some situations seem real but don't quite fit, and then they are replaced by different versions. I close my eyes, attempting to silence my mind for a few seconds, but when I open them, I know I've gone completely insane. The boy from District 11 is standing by my bedside, his clothes soaked in blood and a hauntingly cheerful expression on his face. I rub my eyes, hoping that he disappears, but it doesn't work. He starts laughing, and his voice echoes in the empty room.
"You have no idea what you've just done," he says, still laughing. "There's no way back."
My throat tightens, and I become petrified as he continues to laugh hysterically like a complete maniac. Abruptly, the expression on his face changes, and seconds later, his head shoots towards me. I frantically move on the bed, trying to stand up, but I can't; my body's glued to the mattress. I start screaming as his head ends up inside the bowl. His furious eyes lock onto mine, and my vision blurs as I feel a cold liquid entering my body through one of the tubes tied to my arm. I lose consciousness almost instantly, but the enraged look on that boy's face remains imprinted in my mind.
YOU ARE READING
The Great War.
FanfictionI've never faltered in my convictions, but one fateful day, the ground shifted beneath me, and I came crashing down like a crumbling castle meeting its end. The promises that once guided me turned out to be mere illusions, designed to deceive and we...