Caged | The Hunger Games AU ✓

xxvi. rhapsodic

twenty-six - rhapsodic

- - - ➳

the sky is a melting pot of draining color. a plethora of orange, pink, red, and a hint of dark violet paints the heavens above in an array of beauty that is breathtaking and warm. it washes over the arena in a bath of calming peace.

except the peace is not there.

the loss of emmanuelle has taken its toll on both matthias and i. she was a valuable member of our team, with camps and mounds of supplies. but we don't know where the other two hidden camps are, so all we have left is what's in our backpack.

without her, it's like ghosts are following us. there's four of them trailing behind, lapping at our heels and getting into our minds. my head is a constant swirl of negativity. all i want to do is survive, but how can i do that if i can hardly think straight? i used to wonder why some victors went insane after the games. now i'm not so surprised.

it's down to five tributes. the gamemakers are releasing the most vicious clones they have remaining in an attempt to end the games as quickly as possible. there is no way to tell which of them had already paid a visit, and which haven't. the only ones i know of are nina, whom emmanuelle killed, and bliss, carly, titus, and milo.

bliss, carly, titus, and milo. what connections do they have? why were they specifically targeted toward matthias and i?

my shoes pound hard against the ground, hitting the earth so sharply that i can feel every rock and twig bruise my feet. the wonderful sky above gives just enough light to see, but it's fading quickly. soon all we will have left is the moon.

matthias sprints yards ahead of me. he breathing so heavily that i can hear every pant. both of our throats are painfully dry, for we haven't dared to stop for much water, and i'm running mostly on adrenaline by now. we've been on the move for hours on end. i'm surprised our bodies haven't given out by now, considering my muscles are incredibly tense and my entire being seems to weigh three tons.

my heart drops into my stomach when someone drops directly between matthias and i, so close that i could feel the wind. i screech to a stop and dug up mounds of dirt as my shoes unearth it. slowly, my eyes drift upward. i immediately feel like every artery has been detached from my main living function. i can't breathe.

he stands before me. breathing. alive. unscathed. his hazel eyes watch my every move with sickening interest. the smirk, of which i had grown to admire, now unravels every nerve and sets me on edge. his dark brown hair is styled perfectly. his skin seems to glow.

asher.

at first i'm blank. no emotion. no expression. then a surprising feeling consumes me and lights a fire to every organ.

i am angry– angrier than i've ever been in my entire life. how could the capitol do this? they took someone so broken, so determined and caring, and bent him into a creature that is unrecognizable. the hatred and choleric expression in his hard, cold eyes is a foreign sight that twists my gut painfully.

i briefly wonder how the real asher would react to seeing this. he'd be upset, no doubt, that this version of him is nothing close to the actual him. he'd probably even try to fight the clone.

i've taken too long to move. the clone of asher whips out two long, sleek knives before i can bat an eye. they twirl expertly through his fingers, sending a punch to my heart. i don't dwell on it for long and unsheathe daggers of my own. two can play at this game.

asher makes a quick downward motion with his arm, bringing the blade toward me at an amazingly fast speed. i duck and jump back instinctively as it sails over my head. while i'm crouched low, i jut my dagger out and attempt to drag it across his middle. my wrist is knocked aside like it's a pesky fly.