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"I DON'T WANT TO." Nadia pleadedto the old man. "Please don't make me."
President Snow sighed in annoyance; he didn'thave time for this childishness and immaturity. "You must, Nadia." The Martell girl shook her head, fresh tears building in her already red eyes. "This is what you were trained for."
The Latina released a shaky breath. She couldn't do this; it wasn't right. She couldn't kill a man just because the President ordered her to. "I can't. I can't. I can't." She chanted, her long, uncut nails digging into her palms.
The grey haired man bit his tongue to stophimself from yelling at her in frustration. She was just a frightened child that needed some convincing. A moment of silence passed between them until he sighed. "Do you have any family back at home?" He asked curiously, changing the subject.
Her glossed over eyes met his and she nodded her head, but didn't bother using her hoarse voice. "Who?" He questioned once more, his burning gaze making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.
Nadia hesitated to answer him. "My friend, Finnick Odair."
"Ah yes, I know him." President Snow nodded, leaning back in his chair as if he was chatting with an old friend of his. "He's a bright young man. It'd be such a shame if something were to happen to him, wouldn't it?" The Martell girl's eyes widened as she caught on to the underlying threat laced within his words. "But maybe if a certain little girl listened to her superiors, he'd remain just fine, don't you think?"
The youngster gave him a pleading look, but he ignored it. Knowing that she wasn't going to succeed in changing his mind, she finally sighed in defeat, closing her eyes as she spoke her next words with regret and shame. "Fine, I'll do it."
─
Nadia was in the middle of sharpening her sword when the rain started.
Her and Johanna were both using the rocks to glisten their blades, while Beetee and Wiress explored the forest, not wandering too far in fear of losing the other women. Silence surrounded the two brunettes, the only sound being the clanking of metal against metal, neither bothering to make small talk.
At first, they both thought it was water. The Latina relished in the feeling of the droplets washing away the layer of sweat coating her skin. Until she started to choke.
She coughed and gagged, looking down at her open palms to see that it was thick, hot blood. Grabbing her sword and sheathing the weapon, she shouted to the other Victors who blindly stumbled around, gasping for air. "This way!"
The Martell woman ran as fast as her legs could take her, trying her best to see through the rain of blood. Her dark strands of hair stuck to her face and neck, her throat burning from the lack of oxygen.
She glanced behind her to see the other three following right behind her, struggling to breath as well. She turned back around and spotted the the beach in an opening of the trees ahead.
Pushing herself harder, she sped up. She broke through the tree line, the feeling of the heavy droplets stopping immediately. The brunette fell to her knees, taking in as much air as she could, closing her eyes in relief that the pain of suffocation was over.
Johanna, Beetee, and Wiress were not far behind, meeting her on the shore. They all panted, covered from head to toe in the sticky red substance. The brunette looked to Wiress when she heard the District 3 Victor mumbling some nonsense to herself over and over, as if she was in a daze.
"Nadia!" The Latina heard her name being shouted by a familiar voice, one that belonged to the person she'd been thinking about all this time; Finnick Odair.
─
The sound of a knife dropping to the floor was drowned out by the heavy panting of a child. The girl's wide eyes went back and forth between the dead body in front of her and her blood covered arms. Her hands shook as she sat there frozen in shock.
This was her first time taking a life, and she'd never felt more horrible in her entire existence. The overwhelming guilt consumed her whole being and ate at her until she just couldn't take it anymore.
Nadia screamed, yelled, shouted as loud as she possibly could. She swallowed thickly, her now injured throat sore and dry. Heavy, salty tears rolled down her puffy, pink cheeks as she sobbed; what had she done?
The doors to the room she was occupying burst open and she heard multiple footsteps coming closer to her, but she did not - could not - remove her gaze from the corpse. The memory of her first kill would forever be embedded into her brain, hauntingher for the rest of her life and turning her dreams into nightmares. Everytime she'd close her eyes, she'd see his face, his dead body, his crimson red liquid coating her skin.
Hands grabbed at her limp arms, lifting her from the carpeted floor and dragging her out of the room. Her victim's blood stained the white rug, pooling around his corpse like spilled wine. She wept the entire time, her mind stuck in the unforgettable moment of when she had sliced that poor man's throat.
The brunette's eyes were wide open, but she was not looking at anything. And though she was physically there, being dragged down the hallway to President Snow, who'd assign her another mission, give her another task, her mind was somewhere else completely, far, far away.
[ yikes this is more flashback than it is actual story, but i really want to emphasize what she went through when she was with president snow and how/why that affects who she is and how she acts ]
