𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

TW: Suicide 

The metal platform beneath Aphrodite's feet hummed softly, vibrating with the anticipation of the Games. As it began to rise, her heart beat in time with the mechanical whirring. The countdown was ticking in her head, each second closer to the nightmare she'd been preparing for.

A dark, oppressive forest loomed ahead, swallowing all light as her platform emerged from the ground. The arena was nothing like she expected—trees so tall and thick that only the faintest slivers of the artificial Capitol sky peeked through. Shadows slithered across the ground, twisting and bending as though alive. A deep, eerie silence hung in the air, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock.

The Cornucopia gleamed in the dim light, a stark contrast to the gloom of the forest surrounding it. Supplies and weapons were scattered around it, tempting tributes like forbidden fruit. Aphrodite's gaze quickly scanned the area, taking stock of the close essentials—a knife, and some tarps. She would need both.

To her left, she caught a glimpse of Ash. His face was pale but determined. And beyond him, Venus, eyes alight with cold focus. They were her allies now, but alliances could shift at any moment. She had to be careful.

The countdown began. Ten seconds.

Her eyes flicked over to District 7, the girl, Bri and her District partner, standing tall on their platforms. Then, her attention snapped to District 3. There was a strange calm in their posture.

Nine seconds.

Aphrodite felt the weight of her plan pressing down on her she was going to kill four of them and the game hadn't even started, but there was no turning back now. Her mind was already racing, calculating her first move.

Eight seconds.

She looked back at Bri, who was staring straight ahead, her jaw set with fierce determination. Aphrodite's stomach twisted.

Seven seconds.

Bri glanced down briefly, her hands clenched into fists.

Six seconds.

And then it happened. Bri, her District partner and the two tributes from District 3 took a single step forward, their bodies poised at the edge of their platforms. Aphrodite's breath caught in her throat.

Five seconds.

Without hesitation, all three leapt from their platforms.

Four seconds.

Aphrodite's heart stopped for a moment. She couldn't process what she had just seen, what she had just done. The cannon fire split the silence as their bodies hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Three seconds.

Shock rippled through her as she felt her stomach twist with disbelief. They actually just... jumped.

Two seconds.

But there was no time for shock.

One second.

The gong blared, signalling the start of the Games. Instinct kicked in.

Aphrodite sprinted toward the Cornucopia, weaving through the chaos. Blood already splattered the ground as tributes clashed in the mad rush for supplies. The eerie silence of the arena was shattered by the screams and clanging of metal.

She reached for the nearest knife, its cold handle fitting perfectly in her hand. Her other hand shot out for a tarp, yanking it free from the pile. The dark fabric would be invaluable for shelter, blending into the shadowy forest.