𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄 |❀| In which Quinn Marshal, Victor of the 68th Hunger games is thrusted back into the games where she reunites with an old enemy Finnick Odair. Where Finnick's holds the record for youngest Victor, Quinn holds the record for most ki...
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𝐄veryday Quinn had to endure a new method of torture. The first few days weren't horribly bad. Let's just say they were manageable. But with every day that passed they got more intense. Violent and Vicious. The Fluids, starvation, burns were just the beginning. Today was day three, and this time she had woken up in a pitch black room with a single light in the middle that would flicker on and off every now and then. The door was again made of Iron, there was also a chair and table in the centre of the room like last time. And there was a small vent in the corner of the room.
𝐒he snapped her head back at the chiming sound of the door opening. This time only two peacekeepers entered. She held a hand up in protest as they walked towards her, showing them that despite the terrible aching of her body she could stand up perfectly fine on her own. Still, they ignored her actions and she let an audible hiss as they violently grabbed her by the shoulders. "There's no need for that" Quinn looked up almost immediately with a surprised expression on her face.
𝐋ooking to see who the owner of the voice who had just defended her was a man with chocolate brown hair and olive skin. Beneath the nerdy looking glasses he wore, he had deep blue eyes and a low tone. "I'm sure she can walk perfectly fine on her own" He spoke again as the two peacekeepers loosened their harsh grip on the girl and she limped her way to the chair in front of her. "Leave us" He ordered. The two shared looks of hesitation before reluctantly exiting from the room.
𝐐uinn eyed him with suspicion as he gave her a smile before pulling a piece of paper of out his briefcase and clicking his pen against the table before turning his attention back to her. "Apollo Anderson. Very nice to meet you Miss Marshal" He grinned widely while sticking a hand out. In which Quinn ruthlessly rejected while mumbling a single 'Hm'. "I'm not" she replied coldly. "Yes, I do understand how the brutalities of this situation may make you think that" He nodded. "Can't exactly say I'm thrilled" Said the girl while still eying him.
"𝐖ell then, perhaps I can change your mind!" His smile returned as he spoke. "I highly doubt that" Quinn said while emphasising the 'highly' part. "Would you mind stating what exactly your purpose of being here might be?" Quinn remarked while tilting her head ever so slightly. "Right! I am simply here to ask the questions" He replied. "That's all?" Quinn questioned as he replied with a 'mhm'. "You do realise that's exactly what everyone else's been doing? Well, minus the torture and aggression" The girl returned.
"𝐖ell yes, but from now it will just be me asking the questions" The man answered. "So what you're like a guidance counsellor or something, except instead of listening to my problems you're asking me questions?" Quinn asked still confused on what his job was. "No, not exactly—" He, too squinted his eyes in confusion. "So more like a private interrogator?" The girl continued with an unimpressed look on her face. "Yeah! Sure..I guess" He exclaimed.
"𝐀nd what happens when I don't answer you're questions??" Quinn raised an eyebrow in question. "My orders are very clear. I ask you questions and if you refuse to answer then President Snow will be forced to be harsh with you. But I hope that we can both come to some sort of understanding" He smiled at the last part. "Well go on then, hit me" Quinn sighed. "First let's begin with the obvious question" He began. "Ah yes, 'where are the remaining victors and the rest of of rebels' blah blah blah, I've been asked that question about a thousand times" Quinn mocked.
"𝐓hen you should know the consequences of not answering it" He added. "I won't tell you" Quinn gritted her teeth. "How unfortunate. I do understand, Ms Marshal. But you should know that next time you won't be granted the privilege of chatting to me personally" He warned. The two fought with their eyes, intensely looking at one another waiting for the other to break. The older man breaking first under the pressure of the almighty Ripper. "Hm, I will see you again soon Quinn" He smiled one last time before making his departure, leaving Quinn alone in the dimly lit room with minimum air flow.
𝐓he feeling of confusion lingered as Quinn tried to decipher his true intentions. Is it possible he could have been genuine. Or had he just been plain foolish for attempting to befriend the girl who he was literally watching being tortured. She found it incredibly difficult to figure him out. That smile, his smile, she'd seen it before. It was pure, atleast that's one thing she knew for sure.
***
𝐐uinn found herself wound up in a ball, in the very corner of the room. The corner next to the air vent. She took deep and erratic breath's while wondering when she would find herself in a different room. Usually she would fall asleep after some time and wake up on the verge of death in another room. She would mentally try and guess what the next room of torture could be like. She thought of every possible there was.
𝐓hen other thoughts plagued her mind. Such as, what Finnick and the others could possibly be doing right then. A thought that made her heart winch. Why did she always find herself thinking of him during her weakest moments. Her head told her she hated him, but her heart would tell her otherwise. She could never be too vocal about it either. For she knew that her voice would betray her too eventually.
𝐖e're they even in district 13? Or was the Capitol just pretending the didn't get captured so they would still have some sort of leverage on her? The Capitol, that reminded her of a rumour she had once heard in the Capitol. Apparently THE President Snow had been caught visiting a fraternising with a lower ranked woman. A scandalous rumour indeed. Another thought.
𝐒candal was indeed a terrifying yet compelling thing. There had been many previous scandals involving her in the past. For example, she had once been caught getting a little too close to a certain boy from 4. That did not do her too well. The Capitol wouldn't stop writing and publishing newspapers about her each week. 'Quinn Marshal caught staring during press conference' blah blah bullshit. She had also been caught mourning the death of her late tribute she had been mentoring.
'𝐐uinn Marshal seen in hysterics during the viewing of the Hungers Games'. God it pissed her off. They would say anything to get people to listen to what they wrote. The naivety of the Capitol also pissed her off. How could one be so dim-witted when it came to the media? They had no idea what it would be like to walk a day in her shoes. Forever upholding this fake title of the cold-forever independent Quinn Marshal. The constant reminder of all the lives you have taken. It was torture, life was torture.
𝐁ut not for everyone. Only Quinn. She was the only piece that just never seemed to be able to fall into place? Everyone seemed to have moved on except her. Why her! Why oh why had it always been her. Why must she always pay the price for everything anyone did. What did she do to make Snow loath her so much. During her golden years she had been nothing but a kind, selfless young girl. The Capitol sucked that right out of her when they murdered her family. When they forced her to become the killer she now is. When the made her wear the blood of her victims as a sign of strength.
𝐈t always amazes Quinn how spontaneous one's thoughts could be. Truly astonishing. After a long trail of thinking she finally chose her head over her heart and decided she simply couldn't stay awake any longer. Black spots started to invade the very corners of a her eyes and soon, sleep infested her entire vision as she dozed off into what felt like a never-ending nap.
