Twenty Four Shades of Blood [A Hunger Games Fanfic]

Lost - 9

She’s not even sure the words are right. Her reedy little voice in this thick and open space doesn’t sound right, but at least it’s noise and the Glimpty likes it, anyway. And it seems like as she’s singing the air gets a little colder and a hand strokes down her hair, another voice singing away behind hers.

Was a rainy day they took her on, they took her far away

To a land where knives grow ‘stead of flowers

Where time’s in cannons not in hours

Innocents’ blood not April showers

Where death draws near and the sky stays grey

They ripped my daughter from my arms and took her far away

But she’s coming back, my darling said, she’s coming home some day.

As her voice trails away in horror, the full meaning of the song starting to seep into her head, the heat presses down again and the hand strokes her cheek and vanishes, and Ellie is alone again.

“This place stinks.”

 “So do you.”

Abi sighs and leans back against the wall, her arms folded. There’s a chair in the room - at least, it looks like it used to be a chair - but it’s fuzzy with mould and the seat has fallen in. The floor still feels like it might fall through at any minute. It was a stupid idea to come up here. And it’s no fun arguing when there’s nobody to tell you off.

For a moment her mind sees Oswin lurching, book in hand, looking for the exit, eyes wide. What if Oswin had been on guard, not her and Benji? Would she have got out alive?

Of course she would.

A bruise is ripening on her cheek from where she saw a branch coming too late, and every so often she pokes it to see if it hurts. The answer is always yes, but she’s not even wincing at it anymore. Her ponytail has given up and hangs limply by her ear, and that hideous troupe of stylists are probably fainting just to see her in this mess. It’s still more comfortable than any of the monstrosities they made her wear, not to mention that chariot. It was probably just good luck that they wired it up right; what do the fluttering style elite of the Capitol know about circuitry? Not that she knows much either, despite her district, so she’d assumed it was safe until Connor had balked on sight of the arching cracks of miniature lightning. That seems like years ago. And Connor is dead now, somehow.

Benji paces up and down, unable to stay still. His hair sticks to his face, red and gleaming with sweat. He doesn’t seem to be able to decide if his hands are in his pockets or out of them. With every step the floor underneath them shakes a little.

“Stay still,” she orders, “Or I’ll thump you.”

He just picks up speed, deliberately doing it to annoy her. She thinks she’s older than she is; he knows that kind. His sister is like that. “You wouldn’t be able to,” he retorts out of habit.

Click. Flashlight goes on. Click. Flashlight goes off. The light feels too bright. At least they’ll be able to hear if someone comes up the stairs. The only way in; he checked. They should be safe for now, unless the Gamemakers decide to collapse this building too.

He wonders if the Careers are out prowling and how far away from here they are. Two people died today, two more lives lost, and it should feel sadder than this. Two more families like his own broken and crying. He’s seen it happen; one of his classmates lost his brother last year. Dumb phrase, that. Lost. Like they’ll come home soon. He’s never thought of that before.