"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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The Black Dahlia was once again playing guard duty to Peeta Mellark, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Peeta seemed so weak nowadays, he could barely lift his head. He was a walking skeleton, doomed to roam around the land of the living. So who exactly was she supposed to be guarding? Was she supposed to be protecting Caesar from the Victor... Or Peeta from himself?
She was within the frame of the camera. A stern figure, one familiar to those who regularly tuned in to Peeta's interviews. A constant shadow lingering in the background of every shot. Never uttering a word. Just watching. Staring down the camera lens with her infamously cold glare. It was enough to make the strongest of men shudder, even behind the safety of a screen. But was anyone ever truly safe from the Black Dahlia's reach?
"Tonight," Peeta began shakily, pronouncing each word carefully as he felt the gaze of the Black Dahlia fixed permanently on the back of his head. "We've received reports of derailed trains, of granaries on fire, and of a savage attack on the hydroelectric dam in District Five." His skin was thinly stretched over his bones, dark crescents underlining his lifeless eyes and his body positioned rigidly upright. He recited the speech like a marionette controlled by the Capitol, simply opening his mouth to let Snow's carefully written words spill out. But his eyes... The eyes reveal everything. And Peeta had the eyes of a broken man, pleading for an end. "I'm begging for restraint and decency."
Suddenly the camera feeds seemed to malfunction, static crackling as the scene changed to show the Mockingjay. Her haunting song played loudly throughout the room as the Capitol technicians scrambled to fix the problem. The Black Dahlia's eyes narrowed at the situation, furious that the traitorous rebels had managed to cause so much disruption. Until a familiar voice overpowers the melody.
"... And when the Mockingjay sings, your time to rise will come."
It was shouted out over the song, a compelling cry in support of the Rebellion. A call to arms in favour of the Mockingjay. And it sounded... like her. But she was a monster. The rebels didn't want a monster. That's what Snow and the Madame had always told her. Why would she have fought for them? She doesn't remember fighting for them. What was she fighting for now?
"Katniss?" Peeta whimpered, face lighting up with the first sign of hope anyone had seen him display since he arrived in the Capitol. "Katniss, are you there? Katniss?"
The Black Dahlia remained staring down the camera lens, but this time she saw her own reflection in the glass. Only she didn't recognise the person looking back at her. She didn't want to see a woman filled with hate, she didn't want to see a heartless monster. She yearned to find sea-green eyes gazing back at her or a golden smile meant only for her.
Then she realised she hadn't been fighting for the Rebellion. She had been fighting for something else... Someone else...
"Peeta," Caesar stated firmly, causing both the boy and the Black Dahlia to snap back into reality. "Please, continue." As Peeta's watery eyes slowly returned to the man conducting the interview, his mind went completely blank on what he was going to say. Even the Black Dahlia hesitated to give him a threatening nudge to kickstart his next sentence. Caesar felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead at the unexpected turn this interview had taken, eyes darting nervously back and forth between the two subjects. Eventually, he is the one to awkwardly prompt the boy, "You were telling us about these savage attacks."
