The Flying Fish (Exocoetidae)|| Finnick Odair X Fem!OC

Spiral

The wet thump echoes in her ears as she opens her eyes. Ferric's wide eyes meet hers and she shakes her head. Behind them, Cliff was cradling Velora's dying body, crying.

"No," she whispers. "No, it's not real." Ferric had a knife imbedded in his chest, surely fatal, and blood was starting to flow.

"Oh.. shit," Ferric mumbles, stumbling forward. Cress caught him, sinking down to the ground as she cradled him on her lap.

"Ferric, no, you aren't going to die." her voice is shakier than she wanted it to be. "Please, don't die, Fer."

"I'm sorry Cress," he coughs, blood on the side of his lips. The blood was pooling around them now, a small puddle forming and soaking her pants.

"No, Ferric, why would you do that? Why would you save me?" she asks, tears now spilling down her cheeks. "Ferric, why?"

"Couldn't let you die." his arm lifts, his hands gently curling around her bronze coloured hair. "Gotta win, Cress. For me?"

"I'll try Fer, I promise." she gives him a watery smile, and he returns it.

"Bye, Cress," he whispers as his eyes close, his breathing slowing.

"Ferric, Ferric no!" she half shouts, her voice rising and cracking. "Ferric!" His body stilled and his breathing stopped.

Ferric was dead.

Cress couldn't do anything but scream. A long, throat ravaging scream that echoed across the arena. She was still crying when she noticed Cliff moving out of the corner of her eye.

"You," he hisses, eyes narrowed with rage. "You killed Velora!" Cress doesn't respond as she stands up. Her stare turns to Cliff, her eyes wide and lips curled in a sneer.

"Run," she whispers, palming her knife. "Now."

"What? You bitch, why would I-" Before he can finish speaking, she's leaped at him. She knocks him down and starts trying to stab him with her knife repeatedly. "Hey! Get off of me! Ow!" she manages to stab his shoulder before he can push her off and run. She doesn't follow, her chest heaving and her grip on her knife turning her knuckles white.

Cress was alone now, but so was Cliff. Now all she had to do was hunt him down.

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There were many tears in the Capitol when Ferric died, the sponsors mourning for him in their own fucked up way. Finnick watched as Cress trekked through the maze, her gaze set.

"She's mad now, hm?" Haymitch commented as he drank with Chaff. "Oh, Cliff is in trouble." Finnick doesn't respond, watching Cress. Her face when she realized Ferric had died was a sight he'd never be able to unsee. Her eyes had been wide, her pupils blown so wide that almost none of her iris was visible, her mouth opened slightly, and her bottom lip trembling.

A piece of her had died in that fucking arena, and he couldn't stand it.

"I bet on her killing that other one brutally." Chaff leans forward, pulling out some panars and placing it on the table. "And I think he'll be dead in the next, say, twenty four hours."

"I take that bet and I raise you that he'll be dead in twelve." Haymitch puts some more on the table, to which Chaff grins.

"You're on, old buddy. You going to join the bet Finnick?" Chaff glances over at him, and he shakes his head.

"I'm good." his voice is colder than normal as he turns back to the TV.

"You were right, Haymitch, he really is smitten," Chaff mutters, to which Haymitch snorts and Finnick stiffens. He was not smitten! He was... worried. That's it, worried!

"Am not," he snaps, face reddening.

"Sure you aren't," Haymitch snickers. Finnick stands up and stalks back to his room, glowering the whole time. When he makes it back in, he switches his TV on to watch the Games.

"Come on, Cress," he whispers to himself as he watches her. The expression on her face isn't one he's familiar with.

It's the face of someone fueled by absolute rage and grief, much like Chrysa's when Cress had killed Morrel. On Cress' face, however, she looked so much scarier to him than Chrysa ever did. Something about her had changed, her entire demeanour had shifted.

Finnick watched until he passed out in his chair, right there in front of the TV. When he woke up, Cress had set her trap and was waiting for Cliff.

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Die. Die. Die. Die.

The word echoed in her mind as Cliff walked down the path towards her trap. She was ready. Had been ready since last night, actually.

Cliff footsteps gave him away, she could hear him from a mile away. He had a habit of stepping heavier with his left leg, she'd noticed. It had a distinct tha-thump sound that gave him away, even when he was trying to be quiet. He stepped on a twig and it snapped, causing him to jump.

"Fuck," he hisses, and she immediately looks in the direction it came from. He was about twenty seven meters away and had a white knuckled grip on his chain. His weapon, she guessed. He also had a sword strapped to his back. That wouldn't save him in the end.

She was going to kill him anyway.

She readied her trapeze, waiting for him to approach. The seconds stretched into minutes as he walked closer and closer. Finally, he was in range.

Cress lept from her spot in the trees, swinging down on her trapeze and hanging by her legs. Her eyes were wide as she slashed her knife at him, hitting him in the shoulder as she swung by.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaims, clutching his shoulder. His eyes land on hers and widen. "..Shit." She quickly leaps off the trees again, coming back for another swing. Cliff gets his sword out in a hurry, clumsily swinging at her. He managed to cut her arm, but it was barely felt. She was running on pure rage and adrenaline at this point, she felt nothing. She nails his chest, leaving a cut, but it wasn't very deep.

"Just fucking die!" she shouts, swinging again and again.

After her fifth swing, Cliff has cuts on his cheek, chest, arms, and one particularly deep on on his shoulder. She drops from her trapeze, stalking towards him with her teeth bared. Cliff backs up a step, his lip curled in a snarl.

"Scared?" she hisses. "Just kneel over and die already!"

"Fuck no!" he exclaims, swinging his chain at her. She breaks into a sprint, leaping at him and causing him to lose the effectiveness of his long range weapon. She raised her knife before slamming it down with all of her strength, using her momentum to give it more oomph. It lands perfectly, slicing open his stomach.

She doesn't stop, raising her knife and slamming it down over and over and over again, long after Cliff was dead. She screamed, her throat going raw when she was done. She stood up, looking down at his body. It was full of holes, his entire upper body sliced to bits. She was covered in blood, it had splattered onto her face and coated her arms in a sticky red sheen. The Capitol speaker system that was in the arena crackled to life.

"Presenting your victor, Cress Bronzetide. The victor of the 67th Annual Hunger Games."