A/N: My second finale-task for a Writer's Games, and I really liked how this was situated after my tribute supposedly have won the Games. Hence, the title of the task and the numerous of flashbacks throughout the task. This is probably the longest task I've written for a Writer's Games, but I guess that had a little something to do with how I already 'knew' the nature of the task that I wanted to write. I had an idea right away and I stuck with it, which was pretty cool. The host of the Games, a-k-a-anonymous, picked out the song that my task reminded her of, which just so happens to be favorite band and my favorite song of them. Excited to see how people viewed Shadow throughout the Games. It's all up to the people. Look out for the possible W in the title in a couple of days.
This is my last task for Writer's Games for a little while. Going into hiatus. Who knows, maybe I'll host my own Games??
My heart is pounding in my chest. My head is heavy. My breath is still heavy because I'm recovering. Funny thing though, that's not what's bothering me. It doesn't even come close. Standing here, I'm just... I don't care about the collapsed lung or the internal bleedings that I had. In fact, I would go through that all over again if that meant I could avoid this - the pounding in my chest, the claps of the roaring crowd on the other side of the curtain, my sweaty palms, and let us not forget, this outfit.
It's not like I get to have much of a say about what happens now. Winning the Games is something I have to do by my own hands, but what happens after is in the hands of the Capitol. Me, I just have to participate...sort of like how I 'participated' in the Games. This is all too much though. I can't take the attention. With the oxygen mask covering my mouth and nose it's a wonder I'm just sitting straight.
This outfit though, God, it's making me choke to death! The outfit and the whole arrangement is just...I don't want to be at the center of attention. All sorts of light-cannons will be aimed at me and they will reveal all of my scars. I like the shadows, I long for the shadows. Being in the shadows is like being at home.
Of course, that is just what I want, that's not what I'm likely to get. Everything that happened in the Games are now playing on all the big screens in front of the crowd, even behind the stage where I am situated. Who I was before the Games would never be able to watch that, but now I feel drawn towards it. I can't explain it as the interviewers from a couple of hours ago, Gloss and Areefta, pop up on the screen. They are commenting every single event that happened throughout the Games.
"These Games were truly one of the most amazing Games in history! Every tribute fighting with their own anthem to fight their way through the different challenges that arose. Right here, look at that precise moment, right here, from our newest Victor, Shadow Skye...boy, that kill was one of the goriest of these Games!"
The male interviewer goes on. I swallow at the mention of it. It doesn't make me shake badly or get a panic-attack, but my stomach still gets uncomfortable. I don't want or need to see what I did and how I did it. I just want to go home...well, my new home given my newly appointed status, I don't even know if I have that anymore.
*Flashback*
We are only four people left. Twenty tributes have died and now we're down to the final four. I never imagined that I would be one of them. I never imagined that I would have the stomach to do some of the things that I've been forced to do. My battle cry was real. Three has died since then and now we're just four: me, Mye, Nevia and Dilen. I already knew some of them would make it far, there's only one surprise - me.
All of my allies are dead. I mean even if one of them were alive, we're only four left. There would be no point in playing allies at this point. In the end, only one of us can win, the rest has to die. I believe it is a good thing that I am the only one left of the alliance. I'm free to kill whoever I need to kill. I don't have to reserve myself, because if I had had that in the back of my head, I would most certainly die.
I am back where the Games started. The big stage with all the instruments, facing row after row with seats covered in red linens. I gulp slightly to myself when my eyes hit the big violin-instrument. Before I found the bow, I used that as a heavy version of it and made my first kill in the Games.
Before I can dwell on the who's and how's, I hear something by the edge of the stage. My arm slowly reaches for an arrow in my quiver and I put in on the string as I get closer. I manage to make out who it is as I stop a few meters away from her - Dilen. She's been quite a surprise in the Games, at least for those who didn't know who she was or what she was capable of - like me.
She's got this wicked smile on her face when she finally realizes she's not alone. I keep my arrow firmly pointed at her, though my breath is starting to turn shaky. She's one of the wickedly unstable ones, isn't she? We should've traded Districts when I come to think of it. She would actually fit in with the crowd of District 2, and me in District 13...maybe, I don't know. I do know she would've made a better Career than I am, that's for sure.
"What are you looking at?" She asks me. I snap out of my thoughts as I pull the arrow further back and start taking small steps towards her. She backs off slightly before I see what she's been doing. Mye's body is lying there...oh my God...when I look at Dilen I finally notice how her hands are covered in his blood. Her wicked smile afterwards make me sick to my stomach...she's a monster!
"Are you enjoying my good work, Career? Wait, you're not really a career though, are you?" That's enough to actually push me over the edge. I grab one arrow after the other. They are all consistent and precise...and all stuck on that tiny, fragile, bloody skull of hers. Her head looks like a doll now...a doll with needles in it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That kill replays itself in the back of my head, and it ends luckily just by the time they remove that image to look at other moments in the Games. I have to remind myself consistently to take deep breaths to calm myself down. 'Deep breaths, Shadow, deep breaths. It's almost over'. I only wished that it helped me. I've been doing this for ages already and it only seems to help me less and less.
"Our Victor this year is for sure a special one. Did you know that, unlike most of our victors, Shadow Skye's story is one filled with mysteries? Oh, how I love it when they're like that!" Gloss comments. He really doesn't know the meaning of personal boundaries. He actually thinks I like being this mysterious Victor - Shadow, the Mysterious Career Victor.
You know, not knowing where I come from and who my real family is, if they're even still alive, has nearly killed me. It's bothered me more than anyone will ever know. And now as I am the newest victor, their newest 'pet', they are going to use that to spike up my value in the Capitol and dig through every aspect of my life.
"Shadow Skye - a Career, a skilled archer, a master of her surroundings, a Victor...yet, at the age of three, she was left on the streets to fend for herself. Sources say she never truly had a family and that she has mostly stuck to herself ever since she was found. Our newest Victor failed to mention this earlier, but you know us...a mystery like that can never go untouched." Areefta, the female interviewer continues.
How about 'no'? How about you leave that decision up to me and leave it, what if I don't want to find out? What if I just want to be left alone and live the rest of my life in peace? I've done my 'duty' for the District, and for the Capitol. I won the Rhapsody Games and now I just want to be left alone, in the shadows. The last thing I want to be is a puppet that they can twist and turn however they like.
They are going to do whatever they want and they know that they can. Whether they have my permission or not doesn't really matter. They're not even thinking about that aspect of it. They are all just going to pry and dig their way into my life as much as it pleases them and I'll just have to accept it.
The thought of that actually makes me want to kill myself, end it all like I contemplated on doing while I was in the Arena. That was of course before I found this inner cry for battle, that inner glow that I have been hiding away. I didn't even know that I had it until I felt in my chest. Looking back now, I wonder why it even bothered to show up. Now I have to deal with all of this...
Some man in a black suit suddenly walks up to me and directs me to follow him. He leads me to the edge of the stage from where I will be entering the podium and claim the 'throne' in front of the Capitol and on all the screens of Panem. I can hear the big cheers out there - every single one of them. Why is this ten times more intimidating than facing all of those tributes who tried to kill me in the Arena?
"Ladies and gentlemen, your Victor of the Rhapsody Games, Shadow Skye!"
I almost flinch at the announcer's sudden volume. The man in the suit actually has to nudge me to make me move, as I seem to forget that I have to put one feet in front of the other. As all the lights hit me and nearly blind me, the only thing I see is movement. I don't see any faces, I don't hear individual voices, it's all just a general roar and clapping hands.
The Games are still playing on the screens around me. When I look shortly back at one of them before stepping up to the podium, I notice that they have reached the final stages of the Games...when it was down to Nevia and me.
*Flashback*
As much as I want to throw up over what I've done, I feel this rage and anger when I look at pretty Dilen's head filled with my arrows on it. I didn't know I had that kind of anger in my thin and fragile little body. I didn't know I had that kind of rage in my blood, but I guess we all do, deep down. Now everybody knows, I guess. If they stir me up in the wrong way, I might end up killing them.
It's almost too bad that the tributes didn't get to see my battle cry earlier. If they did, they would know not to pull my rear ends. I turn myself around as I look out on the stage. Former tributes' bodies are in a pool of blood. Come to think of it, the Arena of these Games are much like this stage right here - a stage of blood and death. I don't know if anybody's ever looked at it like that, but getting a moment to myself, I do.
After a moment of peace however, I hear a set of footsteps in front of me. I turn my head upwards to see the face of one tribute whose demons was never really set free. I immediately reach back for an arrow when I realize I only have one left. Nevia can easily tell that it unnerves me. I wasted my arrows when I raged off on Dilen. Nevia is my last hurdle, a strong last hurdle and I only have one arrow left. Did I mention that she looks bloodthirsty?
"See, this can only end in one of two ways: you either have a damn good aim and kill me right off, or, you take me on in a pure hand-to-hand combat and stab me with the arrow in your hand." Nevia starts. "Neither of those will happen though. You know why?" She asks me. I don't answer, but I take the time to drop my bow and remove the quiver. I'm going to need all of the mobility I can get. This will truly be the biggest challenge of my life...I've got plenty of experience with those.
"You don't know? Well, I'll tell you because it's simple: I'll kill you first."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There's a sudden break in the broadcast and I snap out of it as the President himself is stepping up on the podium, holding the golden Victor's crown in his hand. My own trip up here hasn't been flawless. I nearly tripped several times because of the overwhelming scenario that I'm in. I must be the shakiest Victor in the history of the Hunger Games...or, maybe what I mean to say is, I'll be the shakiest Career Victor...that sounds better.
The President is almost right in front of me. Out of courtesy, I get up on my feet and bow my head politely as he places it on the top of my head. "Congratulations on your victory of these Games, Ms. Skye. It was truly an impressive and tactical win. I rest assured that the injuries from that last scene has healed, or are healing properly. That tribute from 6 seemed to have the taste of the...macabre..."
I gulp to myself, but unfortunately, it's loud enough for him to hear it. The President makes me even more nervous than I imagined he would. For some reason I find him to be a shady figure. I guess that's only my perception because most people from District 1 and 2 don't see him that way. Then again, I'm not like most people.
The President has this look on his face and I don't know what to make of it. The look he had on his face when congratulating me was for some reason even scarier than the look I saw on Nevia's face when she finally got the upper-hand and was ready to claim her victory...
*Flashback*
This battle hasn't been pretty. Imagine it yourself, two female tributes are fighting each other, where one loves the close hand-combats and the touch of blood on her hands, while the other one is forced to fight in a way she tries to avoid and has no experience with. I'm not enjoying this and I'm not doing good either. Nevia pretty much has me where she wants.
I'm sure she can already hear the trumpets and see the image of herself as the newest crowned Victor of the Rhapsody Games. She knows this is not the way I 'play'. We're at that point where she has the upper-hand, sitting on top of me and lets the blade of her knife gently caress my cheek. I'm trying to stay unaffected by it, but her devilish smile is rather unnerving.
"I never imagined you to be the final hurdle...I mean, I knew I was going to be here, but you? I didn't think a non-traditional Career like you would be strong enough..." She says. My eyes swiftly turns to my right where I see my arrow. It's barely out of my reach, but at the same time I can reach it of if I do so discretely. Locked under her body-weight, my right hand and fingers are still free to try and grab it.
"I really did think Jem was going to kill you. He had you literally in his bare hands..." Nevia says. I'm so distracted listening to her and trying to reach the arrow, that I don't notice the movement that leads to this pain suddenly appearing in my side. It immediately gives me struggles to breathe. I'm gasping heavier and heavier for air - she freaking punctured my lung.
She sees the look on my face, panic and fear is covering it, but it also serves as a distraction as my fingers manage to get a grip on the arrow. I feel like I'm drifting back and forth in terms of being conscious and unconscious, my strength is disappearing and I am literally tasting the blood in my mouth.
I am not giving this up though, despite of my poor state. I might die from this, but Nevia will get what she asked for when she stabbed me. She's too ignorant and cocky to notice my hand holding an arrow. She's relaxing more, thinking that victory is basically in her hands, which is how I manage to move my arm and thrust my arrow through her throat.
The blood immediately spills and is running down my arm as I hold my arm there. Nevia barely manages to move her hands up to mine before I see her eyes go dim and I manage to swing her off of me. Her limp body just crashes on the ground next to me, blood still flooding out of where I put my arrow.
We're both lying on the ground, side by side, covered in our individual blood. She's bleeding much faster than I am even though breathing is becoming more and more painful. I hear one thing before I black out though - the sound of cannon.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Many things can be said about a victor, but one thing is constant - any Victor is a celebrity. I'm going back to District 2 and I'm going to be their newest, greatest accomplishment. Why? Because I won. I did what I was supposed to do, which was to kill and be recognized by the Capitol and the rest of Panem.
Hardly anybody from District 2 thought I could make it. The only person who thought I at least stood a chance was a Master Instructor from my Academy, and his wolf. I am coming home thanks to the both of them, but I am also coming back to an entire District who is now going to credit me for the way I portrayed my bloodthirsty 'nature'.
A Victor from the older times, from the second rebellion, said that 'nobody ever wins the Games. There are only survivors.' Of course, he was from one of the lower districts and he was a hated man even though he managed to win the 2nd Quarter Quell. Those words stuck with me though.
I have never told this to anybody because I know that it is not the mentality of District 2. Those words have never hit anybody in the career-districts, but it has hit me. Not because I was preparing for the Games, but because that was how I always envisioned my life to be - days, months and years of just surviving. Even if I did see myself winning the Games, I could never consider myself a Victor. I would just consider myself another survivor.
As I now stand here, with the Victor's crown on my head and wave at the crowd even when I don't want to, the faces of the ones that had to die for me to be here, appear in the back of my head. Those people died in my hands...my hands that did things I never thought they were capable of. Even with the bow and arrow, they managed to kill in so many brutal ways, but worst part of it - they got used to it and in the end they didn't get affected by it at all.
It has all made me what they wanted me to become. I am what District 2 always envisioned from the moment I got into the Career Academy. I am what the Capitol envisioned ever since I was reaped - a heartless killer. Meanwhile I only consider myself the lone survivor of it all. That doesn't matter to the outside. They will praise the darkest days of my life and make me question whether I only did what was necessary, or if I went beyond.
My throat is like a freaking desert during the last part of my crowning ceremony. I get up on my feet and walk to the edge of the balcony where I do one last wave. On the screens surrounding me, I see them fill up with two images of me:
The first one, on the left side of the screen, is a picture of me in the tribute uniform that I wore in the actual Arena - the Hunger Games Robin Hood essentially. I don't know from when that was taken, but it looks too good to actually be from of me in the Arena. The image on the right is the live image of me now, standing on this balcony with the Victor's crown firmly planted on the top of my head.
"This is what I am to you, isn't it? I'm your sweet, Career-Victor-doll...just like the rest of them." I sigh deeply to myself. All the lights are directed at me. I remember when I was younger. I would get panic-attacks when all the attention was on me. I can't afford that now. There is no way I can avoid everybody's attention no matter where I go.
A wave of sadness is comes over me. As the lights hit me, I look around all over the place and find several spots of darkness, of shadows. There aren't many, but I have always managed to find them when entering a room. It's been my instinct since I was old enough to walk around and be by myself. That's probably why it took them so long to find me. In the future, I will have to try even harder to disappear into them.
When I am there, I am gone. I am safe.