A SNAKE HIDDEN UNDER THE SKIN OF A MASTERMIND
She reads people as if they're books.
She used people as if they're objects.
She manipulated their minds as if they're games to her.
She had the whole Panem in the palms of her very hands.
So when she...
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before;
——She braced herself as she fell on the marbled floor. Her cheek stung from the slap and she won't be surprised to see if there's Ravinstill's handprint left on her pale skin. Her nose flared as she tried to collect her breath, but her shoulders won't stop shaking from both frustration and anger. Arson's mind began to unravel, too unstable to distinguish what was real or not real after she had consumed the venom.
The tracker jacker venom was her latest creation that she had kept hidden from the gamemakers because the girl knew what would happen if it fell into their hands. The venom was not to be used lightly as it creates hallucinations influenced by fear and pain until it affects the person's memories to the point it alters them. The idea behind this creation existed when Arson was still grieving for her mother's passing during the dark days, and with the rebels still secretly roaming around the Capitol, nightmares wouldn't stop coming after her.
She stopped when the thoughts became overwhelming. However, the night when she first killed that rebel, Arson had resumed the experiment.
Arson was numbed for the longest period of times and no one had noticed it while she put up a facade to deceive them. Deep inside, she wanted to feel something other than the familiar numbness. Anything to stop her from being stuck in an endless state of nothingness.
And now? Arson wanted to escape from reality the moment she discovered Zephyr was nowhere to be seen when she had sworn the peacekeepers had taken him out of the arena. She had tried to leave the mansion to search for answers from her mentor, but failed.
Let her get stuck in the state of phantasms, whatever memory the venom could get it hands on.
The concocted immunity—a permanent cure, was left forgotten in the written pages of her journal.
"I'm sending you away to one of the districts for isolation, excluding district 1!" Ravinstill shouted at her. Saliva spewing out of his mouth, thankfully missing her while it landed on the ground instead. "How dare you form any sort of relationship with a district." He spat with disgust.
The man who had brought her up from the slums of the lowest citizens of the Capitol, the same man who had given her everything and treated her as if she was his own daughter, now looked at her as if he had stepped on something nasty. He stared at her as if she was nothing but a stranger– a street rat that had trespassed his home. Stealing everything he had given to her out of 'love' and 'care' when in reality he had done nothing but made her a spectacle and a trophy to exhibit on a golden pedestal.
