RENEGADE [THE HUNGER GAMES - FINNICK ODAIR] - DISCONTINUED

PROLOGUE

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.

Quinn watched with a satisfied smirk as the residents of District 5 collected their share of her food and clothing. She wanted nothing to do with The Capitol or its lavish things so each month when she received her Victors income she bought just enough for herself and left the rest in the town square. It was a small rebellion against the wishes of President Snow but a rebellion none the less. The young woman had never played by the rules and refused to be controlled by anyone.

She wandered back to her house in the Victors' Village, her blonde hair flying freely in the wind. Free. That was not a word that could be easily used in Panem, if it could be used at all. Freewill was crushed until the only remnants were the memories of the loved ones whose lives you spent by talking out of turn. Quinn knew this all too well; she had said no to President Snow more times than it was safe to admit but he had run out of people to take from her. The renegade from District 5 had outsmarted him – she learned not to love because she would never obey.

As she reached the heavy wooden door of her house, she pushed it open. Quinn had grown used to the darkened silence that greeted her every day, used to cooking for one and used to the cold breeze that wrapped its arms around her as she slept. She was utterly alone but she refused to have it any other way.

She peeled off her leather jacket and the screen in the lounge sprung to life, today was the day they announced the Quarter Quell. Quinn sighed and threw herself onto the expensive leather couch, how she hated it. The screen lit up with the nauseating colours of The Capitol and Quinn fought the urge to throw something. These people were clueless, completely oblivious to the suffering around them and it made her sick. She had been to the city a number of times, not out of duty but out of choice; she wanted President Snow to see the girl that he couldn't control in all her glory, she revelled in the thought of his blood boiling in her presence. Like any relatively attractive victor, Snow wanted to prostitute Quinn and when she refused he killed her mother; he tried again, she killed the customer and he killed her father. The cycle continued until Quinn was presented with the broken bodies of her grandmother, her sister, both her brothers and her dog. President Snow thought that that would break her but the defiant young woman had laughed, manically, in his face – she refused to be broken, no matter the tactic, so Snow had no choice but to leave her be. She knew that it wouldn't be forever so she adapted to minimise the impact when he struck her down.

The crowd went wild as the Devil emerged into view, Quinn thought he looked overly pleased with himself. This can't be good.

"Ladies and Gentleman," his voice echoed through the screen, sending a chill down her spine, "This is the 75th year of The Hunger Games and it was written in the charter of the games, that every twenty-five years there would be a Quarter Quell. To keep fresh for each new generation, the memory of those who died and the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. Now on this day - seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion - we celebrate the third Quarter Quell. As a reminder, that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol, on this third Quarter Quell game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

Quinn's face paled as she gawked at the holographic screen in front of her. Her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces and every memory that she had supressed since her games came crashing over her, drowning her. She had to go back. Shock turned into anger and she threw the nearest ornament through the projection. But she didn't stop there, the monster had been released out of his cage in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. She growled an unearthly growl as she flipped the coffee table, threw the vase and ripped up the curtains. She hated them; she hated all of them.

When there was nothing left to shatter or tear, Quinn slumped down into the mass of her destruction, the shattered glass and porcelain tore at her bare legs but she revelled in the pain. Blood trickled down her cheek from the small cut that the last plate had given her, it was a feeling that she would be required to reacquaint herself with. So she sat there, motionless as hot salted tears navigated their way across her delicate features, as her hands trembled with emotion – both terror and wrath – She had to go back.

The games had turned the sweet little girl from District 5 into a killer, a ferocious beast that couldn't be tamed by even the most experienced of ringmasters. The games had frozen her once loving heart and placed a tornado inside of her mind; the games had turned her into a storm meant only for destruction. The games permanently stained her small hands red. The games destroyed her humanity and if Quinn Larkin knew anything it was that she was going to destroy them. Tear them down, piece by privileged piece and laugh as their world crumbled.

A fire ignited within the girl, her eyeshardened and her jaw set. If they wanted a show, then they were going to get one and nothing was going to get in her way. Nothing.

A/N: 

I hope you liked this little introduction to Quinn and her past, the next chapters will be longer but I wanted to ease her into the story :) 

Please let me know what you think!