unforgivable ➸ finnick odair

T H I R T Y E I G H T

There was water everywhere. That was the first thing that popped into her mind as her platform rose through the hollow metal tube and into the arena. The only pieces of land she could see, apart from the sandy beach behind her and whatever lay beneath the thick jungle canopy, were the dark, bump-strewn strips that divided the glistening water into wedges, as well as what the gleaming metal Cornucopia stood on.

Electra's eyes narrowed in concentration as she bent down, fingertips resting lightly on the edge of her platform. She pushed her ponytail over her shoulder as she raised her head and looked around at the 23 other tributes. To her concern, Katniss already seemed distressed and disoriented, head whipping around with wild vigour and shoulders rising and falling at an alarming rate.

She wondered what had caused the Girl on Fire to lose her cool, but she frowned and cleared her head, only focusing on the Cornucopia and the supplies that lay within. This was no time to be worrying about Katniss Everdeen, no matter how important she was to the rebellion. She would leave that for later.

The ten-second countdown began on the hologram, which glowed a bloody shade of red as the cube rotated. Electra's gaze scanned the Cornucopia, zeroing in on a black belt of throwing knives, displayed on a plastic box with only the handles visible. She grinned, eyes gleaming.

Three. She could just barely make out Finnick crouched down on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, probably with a victorious smile plastered on his face already. This was an arena made for him.

Two. Mags, not far from Finnick. She looked so small compared to the rest of the tributes, yet no fear showed on her face.

One. She imagined fifteen-year-old Electra standing on a platform of her own, unknowing of what lay ahead of her. If she'd known, maybe she would've jumped off her platform before the cannon signifying the start of the Games was fired. A quick death. Probably more than she deserved.

BOOM.

The water was neither hot nor cold as she dived in, her whole body submerged. The salty water stung her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and began to swim. Her arms lunged forward, taking long alternating swipes at the water as she propelled herself forward. The thick strip of land came into view as she broke the surface, taking in a lungful of air as she placed her palms on the dark rock, swinging her legs up and pushing her body onto the spoke.

Water was shaken from the thin fabric of her black-and-white wetsuit as she sprinted down the length of the spoke towards the Cornucopia, careful to watch her step as she avoided the sharp dips and rises of the damp rock. The urge to look to her side clawed at the walls of her stomach, but she ignored it, focusing only on staying steady as she ran.

Her heavy footsteps thudded against the ground as she entered the Cornucopia, scooping up the black belt and throwing it over her head, pulling one of the knives from its sheath as the belt settled above her hips. She frowned as she looked around at the supplies available - there were no backpacks or miscellaneous survival items lying around at all. Only weapons were available.

She heard footsteps behind her. Electra turned to see Ayanna, the female victor from District Ten, skid to an unsteady halt just outside the Cornucopia, terrified face framed with thick, curly red hair. Her fingers fumbled for one of the spears or swords, but by then it was already too late.

Her body made a loud thumping noise as she fell to the ground, knife in her stomach. Electra pulled out the blade and made a quick, methodic slash across the woman's throat, putting her out of her misery. The cannon boom confirmed her death, and she kept her tight grip on the bloodstained knife as she exited the Cornucopia.

Another cannon swiftly followed, and she heard a body drop to the floor on the other side of the Cornucopia island. She felt a wave of worry, but that worry quickly turned to relief when she heard Finnick's voice, and Katniss's as well.