Siren Song ~ Finnick Odair x oc

9...Goodbyes

As the peacekeepers lead Cove and I out of the penthouse and toward the waiting hovercraft, a whirlwind of mixed emotions swirls within me.

Each feeling is distinct yet intertwined: anxiety nips at the back of my mind, excitement bubbles in my chest, a paralysing dread settles in my stomach, and an insatiable curiosity tugs at the edges of my thoughts.

This unsettling blend of sentiments is intensified by the sterile, cold atmosphere of the penthouse, which is abruptly replaced by the soft hum of the hovercraft and the overwhelming uncertainty of what lies ahead.

Once we board, the ramp thuds shut behind us with a foreboding finality, and as the hovercraft lifts off, its luxurious interior catches me off guard. The metal seats, while sturdy, are surprisingly cushioned, equipped with straps that feel foreign against the backdrop of looming danger, and the storage compartments offer a semblance of safety amid the chaos.

The other tributes are already in their seats, a tableau of anxious energy and thick tension, while the peacekeepers nudge us forward like livestock, commanding us to strap in with a mixture of authority and indifference shimmering in their eyes.

The process of inserting the tracking device is alarmingly quick, a sharp pinch that disorients more than it hurts, and I can't help the irritation simmering inside me, especially after the peacekeeper who did it was particularly rough on my arm—a discomfort I know will linger well beyond this moment.

Once settled, I look around at the faces of the other tributes, each reflecting my own mix of apprehension and steely resolve.

My gaze lands on Cove, prompting me to look down at my feet instead, rubbing the spot where the device was implanted, a reminder of my vulnerability that quickens my heartbeat. His eyes shift to me, brows raised in silent concern; I can see the worry etched in the corners of his mouth, and despite my best attempts to mask it, my inner turmoil must be evident.

I muster a weak smile and a subtle nod, hoping to reassure him that I'm holding it together, even as I feel like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

He responds with a tight-lipped smile, a faint echo of his usual warmth, and a shrug wrapped in uncertainty before we both retreat into our private storms, the cabin heavy with the weight of our shared fate.

As the hovercraft moves forward, the low hum of the engine creates a monotonous background to the oppressive silence around us, occasionally interrupted by the creak of the craft as we fly into the unknown.

Unable to resist, I glance at the career tributes, their faces glowing with a disturbing thrill that sends a shiver down my spine; Stone, in particular, sends me a cocky smirk, which I dismiss with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, refusing to let his bravado weaken my resolve.

As we soar through the air, the anticipation in the cabin thickens, and I can feel the rise of anxiety among the other tributes as the landscape outside shifts into view, revealing the harsh reality of the arena that awaits us.

I give Cove one last look, squeezing his hand in a silent show of solidarity, our shared strength a flicker of light in the approaching darkness as the hovercraft descends toward our fate, each heartbeat ringing louder as we near the moment that will irrevocably alter everything.

The hovercraft finally lands softly, settling into place before the compartment doors open with a whir, unleashing a wave of peacekeepers upon us. They swarm into the space with unsettling efficiency, roughly guiding us from our seats and herding us down a dark, foreboding tunnel.

As I'm pulled along, the muffled sounds of other tributes being ushered to their respective rooms create an unsettling cacophony of whispers and heavy footsteps. When I find myself abruptly shoved into a stark, metallic room, a wave of claustrophobia washes over me; I quickly scan the dimly lit space, illuminated only by a single overhead light, casting eerie shadows against the harsh walls.