Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 16 - Escape

Frustration gnaws at me as I trudge through the dense forest back to the site where the girl from District 8 fell. Joining the Careers was a reckless move, driven by desperation to secure a weapon. But now, I find myself entangled in their web of manipulation. The realization hits me like a blow to the gut: I'm merely a pawn in their twisted game, a means to an end in their pursuit of eliminating threats like Peeta and Fletcher. And once they've achieved their goal, I'm next on their list.

A part of me knows that staying with the Careers puts my life at risk, but another part of me is paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. When will be the right time to make my escape? Will I even survive long enough to make that decision?

As I approach the girl's camp, my heart sinks at the sight before me. She's lying on the ground, her shirt soaked in blood from Glimmer's attack. Despite her wounds, she is still clinging to life, Shivers wrack her body as she weakly clutches at her stomach drenched in crimson. She lifts her head and gazes at me with pleading eyes. "Please," she manages to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. "It hurts... please."

I understand what she's asking for. She wants me to end her suffering, to spare her from a slow death. With the severity of her injuries, it's only a matter of time before she succumbs to them. But I also know she deserves to leave this world on her own terms. No one deserves to die, but she deserves some mercy.

She rolls onto her back and closes her eyes, allowing me to do what I need to do. Raising my trident, I bring it down swiftly and decisively on her chest. The cannon erupts instantly, signaling the end of another tribute.

I look down at her lifeless form, the vibrant red of her blood stark against the dark earth below. I notice a small bowl nearby and quickly grab it before hurrying to a nearby stream to fill it with water. Returning to the girl's side, I gently pour the cool liquid over her hands, washing away the dried blood and stains. I zip up her jacket and place her arms neatly over her chest. She almost looks peaceful in death— as if she's simply sleeping.

But I know the truth— another young life has been taken too soon. And as much as I want to mourn for her and honor her memory, I have to keep moving forward if I want any chance at surviving this place.

As I stand there, a strange mixture of guilt and numbness fill my chest. I have ended the life of another person— an innocent girl whose story I will never know. I look around at the brutal landscape, the jagged rocks and twisted trees that stretched as far as the eye could see. I pick the bowl of water back up again, dipping my fingers in the liquid and flicking them over the girl's body: a District 4 superstition. A way to ensure the deceased are cleansed and purified before they ascend to somewhere greater.

Leaving her side, I turn and begin to trudge through the woods, away from Cato and the others. A surge of conflicting emotions grips me as I break away from the Careers. Betrayal simmers beneath the surface, mingling with a newfound sense of liberation. Their whispers of camaraderie and promises of protection now feel hollow, drowned out by the weight of their manipulation. Perhaps, the cannon's echo will be their only clue to my departure, a fitting end to my association with them. Yet, a part of me wonders if they'll bother to investigate, or if they'll simply write me off as another fallen tribute.

The darkness deepens around me; I find refuge in its shroud, grateful for the anonymity it offers amidst the intruding shadows. Nature's symphony surrounds me, soothing my frayed nerves with its gentle melody. The rustle of leaves and the hoots of the owls create a soothing blend of sound that momentarily drowns out the horrors I've witnessed and the choices I've been forced to make.

Yet, even in this tranquil moment, the weight of guilt presses upon me like a heavy stone. The faces of the two girls I've taken haunt my thoughts, their accusing eyes carved into the recesses of my mind. With each step forward, I carry the burden of their lives lost, a heavy burden that threatens to consume me.