❝if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows other people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. if you refuse, he kills someone you love. so you do it.❞
ontari nightfall wants revenge after seven year...
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PEETA REACTS FIRST. Dropping the sheath of his knife, he buries the blade into the monkey's back repeatedly, teeth gritted together with determination as he hacks at the animal until it releases its jaw. It falls lifelessly to the jungle floor. Ontari whirls back around and faces the onslaught around them, but the mutts simply stare at them with too-intelligent eyes.
"Come on, then! Come on!" Peeta goads them, voice filled with rage, but for what, Ontari can't tell. Not dying, his knife being caught in its sheath, or the fact that someone else had paid the ultimate sacrifice for them— again.
But the monkeys continue staring. Ontari's nostrils flare with a huff as she shifts her gaze from beast to beast, waiting to see which one will decide to strike first. To her surprise, they turn almost in perfect unison and begin swinging back the way they came. It's as if the death of the morphling has switched off their urge to kill.
Her brain begins to tick. Is someone going to have to die for each attack to stop?
Katniss' voice snaps her out of her momentary daze. "Get her. We'll cover you."
Peeta lifts the woman in his strong arms and carries her the last few yards of the forest until they hit the sand. Ontari's ever-careful eyes flicker from monkey to monkey as they retreat, barely daring to breathe until the last one is out of her sight. The area reeks of blood and fur and the carcasses at their feet. It's not a very good place to die.
Ontari slides her sword into its sheath on her belt and turns toward Peeta, who has laid the nameless woman in the sand. She feels a puncture of guilt for not knowing who she is. The morphlings' names have been lost with time, maybe even forgotten by their bearers as well.
Katniss moves like lightning. Quickly, she slices the front of the woman's jumpsuit, tearing the fabric to reveal the four deep gashes which are slowly leaking blood. Her breaths are shallow. They emerge from her cracked lips unsteadily and sound more like chokes than inhales, her brown eyes staring up at the sky as the rising sun spills colors across it. Her skin is sagging and tinted green from the years of overloading her frail body with medicine.
Those breaths, the position of those teeth marks. Ontari knows what it means from her time volunteering in Eight's hospital. "The fangs punctured a lung."
The woman grips Katniss' hand in a vice-like hold. Ontari tears her eyes away after seeing the grief and perplexion on Peeta's face. She hadn't known that others were involved in the alliance. If Finnick knew, his face doesn't show it. He has carefully masked his face as much as she has covered her own.
Ontari pivots until she's facing the bloodbath behind them, such a stark contrast to the achingly beautiful sky she'd just been looking at. She'd momentarily forgotten about the stench surrounding them. Her nose wrinkles, stomach turning.
