𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔

Aphrodite sat cross-legged on the rough forest floor, her stomach twisting with hunger as she watched Ash and Venus. Their base was quiet, the muted light filtering through the trees casting shadows across their tired faces. She could tell they were feeling the same gnawing emptiness; their supplies were dwindling, and hunger was creeping in, relentless and unforgiving.

"I'll go look for food," she said, forcing herself to sound hopeful, though she wondered why they didn't get food yesterday while looking for water. She grabbed their only knife, feeling its comforting weight in her hand, and then looked to Venus. "I'll be back soon."

Venus gave a curt nod, while Ash simply closed his eyes, too weak to protest. She hesitated, her gaze lingering on them for a moment before she turned and slipped away into the forest, the silence swallowing her as she ventured farther from the base.

Aphrodite moved carefully, her steps soundless as she scanned the trees and underbrush for any sign of movement. She could feel her pulse quicken at every little sound—a twig snapping, a bird rustling in the branches above—but nothing yielded itself as prey. Her thoughts wandered, wondering how much longer they could last on such little food and water, and the doubt weighed heavier with each step.

Finally, as she passed a grove of thick trees, she spotted it: a small creature nestled high on a branch, its sleek body blending with the leaves. She took a breath, aiming carefully before hurling the knife with all her strength. But as soon as it left her hand, she knew it was off.

The blade embedded itself, not in her target, but in the tree trunk just beside it. The creature darted away, disappearing into the leaves, leaving her knife wedged high above her reach.

Aphrodite gritted her teeth, staring up at the knife, frustration boiling inside her. She'd wasted her only weapon—and now she had nothing to show for it. She took a few steps back, clenching her fists, fighting the urge to scream. Taking a deep breath, she turned and began the long walk back to camp, empty-handed and even more anxious than before.

As she neared the base, she started to call out, "I'm back—" but the words died on her lips, replaced by a feeling of dread as she heard a sudden, sharp scream.

Aphrodite ran toward the sound, her heart hammering, and stumbled into the clearing to a horrifying sight: Venus was on top of Ash, struggling with him, blood glistening on the knife lodged in his side. Ash let out a pained groan, his hands weakly trying to push Venus off as she pinned him down.

Everything slowed, and Aphrodite's mind blanked in a flash of raw instinct. She yanked the tarp she'd tied loosely to the nearby branches, its knots slipping free easily as she pulled it down, thankful she didn't tie it right earlier. Without a second thought, she launched herself at Venus, looping the tarp around her neck and pulling tight, her voice low and deadly. "Explain."

Venus choked, her lips pulling into a twisted smile even as her breath came in ragged gasps. "Helping you," she managed, her voice strangled and sickly. "He was dead weight... he told me to leave. Thought he could tell me what to do."

Her laugh was thin and mocking, dripping with cruel satisfaction. Aphrodite's grip tightened, fury coursing through her veins as she pulled the tarp tighter, ignoring Venus's flailing attempts to loosen it. At last, Venus's struggles ceased, her body going limp as the cannon fired, signalling her death.

Aphrodite let go, her heart still pounding as she watched Venus's lifeless form crumple to the ground. She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to turn away and focus on Ash, who lay slumped against a tree, his face pale and contorted in pain.

Dropping to her knees beside him, Aphrodite grasped his hand, feeling the weak, uneven pulse beneath her fingertips. Her voice broke as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Ash..."