FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

1.13 a point of no return

Grove was aching from head to toe, having landed on his side on the firm ground after his fall. He rolled onto his back and sat up with urgency, fighting the pain so that he could get back to his two allies. He heard the struggle, he heard the screams, he heard the sobs. He saw Payton running, unable to follow with his weak leg and tender muscles. Instead, he opted to head back up the stairs.

There Maisie lay on the ground, freshly removed from a bloodied metal pipe and cushioned in a growing pool of blood. Her arms were folded neatly over her front, eyes closed and face peaceful. Held loosely in her joined hands was a silver coin he hadn't seen before, decorated with two delicate fish swimming in an infinite loop, the crevices of their tiny scales stained with a shining red.

"Calypso-" he gasped, unsure what to say about what he was seeing. There were no words to come from either of them, because they had failed. For that, there was no excuse. "I-"

"You were meant to be keeping watch," she said. There was no expression in her voice. A hint of anger, but otherwise... nothing.

"I fell asleep," he replied. She turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder, eye twitching with unspoken rage. "I'm sorry."

"Did you see him?" she asked. "Did you see Payton? Which way did he go?"

"He was heading back towards the centre of the arena," he told her. Calypso wiped the stray tears from her face and stood, giving Maisie's body only one glance. Leaving the bloodied knives, she instead retrieved the other girl's spear. "Wait. Wait. Do you not want to take a minute first?"

"No."

"Calypso," Grove interrupted her exit, standing at the top of the staircase to block it. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, purposefully ignoring all the blood, both her own and Maisie's that was now smudged over her face. "You need to take a minute."

"No," she repeated, pushing past him anyways. "What I need to do is kill Payton and tear him limb from limb and then scatter those pieces so I'm certain he'll never rest peacefully."

The second she was outside, a soft chiming came. A parachute descended to her level. When she opened it, it was two bottles of water. Two. No note. She had no idea whether it had been Porter or Finnick that had sent them, but the latter seemed unlikely. However, it did give her pause.

"Here," she huffed, giving one bottle to Grove and then taking a single sip of her own. With the rest, she poured it over her hands and face, rubbing away the blood as best she could. It faded into a pink tint on her skin, and then washed away into nothing. Maisie was gone, and the only thing left for her was vengeance. "Drink. Take a breath. Prepare yourself."

"Calypso, I'm not killing him-" he argued, ever the pacifist. At first, Calypso thought that was a defiant strength to be so kind in a game of death. Now, she knew the reality. She had tried to spare Maisie the guilt of killing, and it had only got her killed.

"I didn't ask you to," she cut him off defensively. "I'll kill him. Whether you're there or not makes no difference to me. He'll die before he gets to see the sun rise."

There was no fighting her on the matter. Calypso gave him a minute to finish his water, and then she was off again, stalking through the streets like a predator. No longer was she afraid of encountering her fellow tributes, because only three hostiles remained. There was Payton, for whom she would give the most brutal death. For Lola and Harrison, she would ensure they suffered for when they had chased and taunted Maisie like pack animals. Humanity no longer applied. All that remained were the very beasts that President Snow had spoken of.

Her eyes were focused on the ground, following a dripping trail of blood from where she'd stabbed him three times, losing two of her knives in the process. Paired with the ones she lost days before and the one she'd left behind with Maisie, only one remained on her belt. Even when the trail of blood disappeared into nothing, she kept following the general direction, hoping Payton had been stupid enough to just keep walking instead of twisting through streets in an attempt to lose their trail. He probably had.