Fire and Ashes {Sequel to Sea Salt and Roses}

Chapter 3

~Hillary~
The sickening smell of roses and blood hit my senses. His white hair was almost non-existent, meaning almost bald. His eyes, snake-like. His tongue, forked behind his teeth, waiting to lash out anytime. Smiling at me in a sickening, revolting way. Instead of cringing, I stared back with ferocity. He sat back on his chair and said, "First off, you notice that you are separated from your other friends. Isolated. Let's make this easier for both of us. You tell me what you know about the rebellion, and I don't hurt you. Simple enough?" I said nothing, just glared. He leaned forward and repeated himself, "Simple enough?" I smirked and replied, "I'm not deaf, President. But I'm never following anything you say. Break me, for all I care. Hurt me. I don't bloody care. You never cared anyway. Besides, you don't want get anymore blood on your already wrecked life." He stood up and said, "You dare speak to me like that?" I smiled and said, "I don't care about what you think. I'll speak to you how I need and want to talk to you." He stood up and said, "Let's try this again tomorrow, shall we? After you've learned your lesson for talking back. Learn to respect your superiors, Ms Skywood." He said my last name mockingly and I replied, "I hope you're not talking about yourself. The rats are more superior than you." He just walked out. A peacekeeper walked in and grabbed my arms and tied me to a chair. Another man in white, supposed to be pure and clean but their hearts, black as coal. He carried a red iron bar. Damn it. I braced myself for the impact. It all seemed to be in slow motion, the iron rod building momentum before striking. Like a spider, anticipating your every move, trapping you. Knowing that you would be hit was bad. Waiting for the iron to strike was even worse. And finally, it hit. I couldn't stop myself. I just released. Screams flew from my mouth, sailing into the air, piercing the serenity of the cells. Again and again, it hit. 24, 25, 26, 27... With that, darkness enveloped my being and all became dark, hidden under a veil of sleep.
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Light was non-existent in these parts of the mansion. Just darkness, pain, screams and death. It was like a blanket, suffocating you, depriving you from your memories. The feel of grass beneath your feet, the sound of the trees swaying, the sweet taste of fruit on your tongue. All gone. It takes effect on your physical self too. Eyes that sparkle, look dead, dull. Bodies shrink in size, bones prominent, like a skeleton. Hollowed cheeks, bloodshot eyes, pale and gaunt. After that? Gone like the winter wind in the early hours of spring. Some got off lucky. Some died before the horror began. Some, were not so lucky.
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I allowed my eyes to crack open slightly. Just slightly. There was still no sunlight. No amount of light and purity would be able to reach such a place. But hope lingered, for an opportunity was right there. Right there. A sleeping guard. I stood up silently and reached for his belt pocket. There was a bunch of keys. My fingers, clawing and reaching, almost animalistic. Grasping at a last sense of humanity and hope. A metal feel, cold as my fingers enveloped it. I tugged on hit slightly and managed to slip it through the bars of my cell. Before I could find my key, a rumble shook the building. My eyes widened. Dust crumbled and sediments drifted from the roof. I looked around in alarm, the red lights, we were being saved. I sat down at awaited them. I could hear everything. Helicopters and men, bombs and god knows what else. One minute I was sitting in the stool and now, I was on my back. An explosion threw me back. I felt a lightheaded for some reason. I pulled myself into a sitting position and stood up unsteadily. I coughed slightly on the dust. I climbed over a rock when it hit me. I was separated from the rest. They must have rescued the others but me. Oh no. My fears were confirmed. The minute I stepped outside, the cool night air whipped around me. The grass beneath my feet. But the sky, black. There, in the sky was blinking red lights, a helicopter taking off. I could only stand there, in my arena suit, watching it fly further and further. What brought me back into reality was the heavy sound of men's feet, slapping against the ground. I scanned my surroundings, almost as I was in the Games again. I spotted a forest. That's where I ran. To breathe the air was amazing. Breathing the free air was even more spectacular. I had though the Games were over when I was lifted out of that arena, that arena which gave me nightmares. My first Games. I spoke too soon. Years later, they ship me back off to another one. It's a cycle. A deadly cycle, producing entertainment, death, gore and grief. Something for the Capitol to laugh at, for them to point and place bets. This time was the last one for me. No more.