The Taste of Death ~ Hunger Games Fanfiction- Finnick/OC

Chapter 7

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Chapter 6

Scarlet Wolfe

When Scarlet could not take another bite of food, she set her silverware down, wiped her hands and face on the napkin that was set next to her plate and stood from the table. She headed toward the automatic doors that would take her to the train car that housed the television and some other entertainment games.

Scarlet wasn’t interested in the games that were there, but she needed some time alone to gather her thoughts. She also needed some time to consider her next moves. As she exited the train car, she didn’t bother saying anything to Crimson.

She had never bothered with such niceties before and didn’t see the point of starting now. Plus, she was sure that he was just as eager for some time alone as she was. She couldn’t even guess at the mountain of information that Crimson had managed to glean from Penelope and she was sure that he would spend the rest of the night sorting through it all, determining what was useful and how to use it to his advantage.

Scarlet passed through the liquor car—filled with enough liquor and alcohol to keep her father drunk for a year, and the sleeping quarters, in which Crimson and Scarlet would each have their own rooms.

She wouldn’t lie, the idea of having her own room was a little intimidating. Not because she was afraid to sleep alone, but because she had never done so before. There were two bedrooms in their home in District 14.

Their parents had their room, which they shared with any child under the age of three. And the second bedroom, in which there were two small beds. Violet, Sienna, Silver and Sapphire shared one bed. Auburn, Aqua, and Ebony shared the other. Crimson, Scarlet, Cadmium, and Honey shared a part of the floor and one blanket.

And finally, as she passed through yet another set of automatic doors, she reached Tribute’s car. Scarlet wasn’t sure why exactly it was called that. She was sure that Penelope had offered some long-winded explanation, but their escort had yet to make the connection that Scarlet was deaf and couldn’t understand her words unless she could see her lips.

In her household, being deaf wasn’t just frowned upon, it was despised. Scarlet had taken great pains to make her deafness disappear from the conscious thought of her family. Over the years, as her skill in regulating her tone, volume and pitch, and her skill at lip reading grew, many of the people that she interacted with didn’t even know that she was deaf.

In District 14, when people did know, they assumed that she was stupid or incapable of functioning in daily life.

Scarlet didn’t know how disabled people were treated in the Capitol, but she couldn’t imagine that in a place where perfection was required and expected, she couldn’t imagine that it was treated any better than back at their district.

Regardless, it wasn’t something that Scarlet was going to point out to her, so she kept quiet and contented herself with her own explorations in each of the train cars.

Even as poor as District 14 was, their schools were equipped with the necessary equipment to watch the Capitol’s approved educational and historical videos. Each home had a smaller TV in them as well.

Power was only provided to their homes during the Annual Hunger Games when every citizen of every district was mandated to watch them and during the Victory Tour which occurred exactly six months after the Hunger Games and six months before the next Hunger Games began.

There were some other occasions in which power was turned on to the homes, but all were related to the mandated broadcasts from the Capitol.

Scarlet grabbed the remote from the stand that held the television and sat on the floor, just in front of the couch, still not accustomed to the luxury surrounding her.

It felt odd, using the luxury items set out in front of them.

She wiggled her toes eying the dirty wraps that covered her scarred feet.

There was no part of her that belonged anywhere on this train or, likely, in the Capitol. And it felt as if every inch of this extravagance set before them was simply to reinforce that very fact.

That Scarlet would never be worthy of the Capitol. That Scarlet was simply a tool for the Capitol, for President Snow to exploit and to use.

Afterall, that’s what the Hunger Games were. They were just a way to remind the districts of the Capitol’s power and the consequences of any acts of defiance.

Scarlet clicked the power button on the remote. The screen flared to life, the brightness of the colors assaulted her eyes and nearly blinded her. She was used to the low-grade flickering TV boxes back in District 14.

Once she could see properly, she found Ceasar Flickerman talking to his co-host Claudius Templesmith, discussing the Reapings of each district.

“I think everyone will be really thrilled with this year’s tributes, Caesar.” She read Claudius’ lips as he spoke to Caesar.

Caesar’s lips curled as he nodded, looking directly into the camera. Scarlet felt as if he was looking directly at her, and she had to resist the urge to look away. “I know I am. What a match up we have. So many older tributes are going into the Arena this year. That’ll be delightful to watch. But then also a twist of angst when we get the District 14. Twin brother and sister that are just twelve years old, who volunteer to save their older siblings.”

Claudius nodded his face echoing a sympathetic look, but Scarlet thought that it was insincere. Patronizing. “That’s not uncommon for District 14 though.”

“It’s not uncommon for District 14…” Caesar agreed. “But for siblings to be sent into the games together…” Caesar’s face, which had been a creased and sad looking, suddenly lights up brightly. “Well, it’s something that no one will want to miss.”

“Let’s have a replay.”

Scarlet watched the screen change, Caesar and Claudius are at the top of the screen in a little box, but the majority of it was now filled with a view of the stage from back home. She watched as Penelope Bright read Violet’s name into the microphone.

In the replay, she witnessed her own face as she volunteered. Scarlet saw the wickedness in her eyes and the enjoyment she got at Violet’s expense and wondered if anyone apart from perhaps some of her family members would pick up on it.

She hoped if anyone else did, they would assume that she was excited to go into the Arena. She watched herself on stage, pleased that her expression never faltered or waivered. She really did seem impervious to the entire situation. She was calm and collected and unworried. She found herself smiling at Penelope’s reaction to her little comments.

Then Crimson’s name was called and any humor she felt faded.

Scarlet’s eyes flickered up to Caesar and Claudius. In the upper corner of the television screen they were playing up on the drama of it all. Even though neither Scarlet nor Crimson seemed particularly affected on stage, what really seemed to seal the deal was when she had extended her arm to her brother and her brother had taken it.

Caesar repeated her words.

“One Wolfe goes home.” The replay stopped with both Crimson and Scarlet smirking at one another united by their joint hold on each other’s arm.

“That is so bold of her to say, and yet, does it not seem to match the district 14 female tribute?” Caesar asked, as the replay video of Scarlet and Crimson disappeared and Caesar and Claudius returned to the full screen of the television.

“You know, it really does, Caesar. It’s bold to say and a little hard to believe, but it really makes me think that we’ll see something special out of them this year.”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it? District 14 is the only district to never have a Victor. That puts them at a disadvantage already, on top of the fact that there are so many older tributes to contend with that I don’t know if it’s possible. But the one thing we do know is that we shouldn’t count out the tributes from District 14 quite yet.”

“It’ll definitely be an interesting Hunger Games this year. I honestly can’t wait for the Opening Ceremonies—"

Scarlet fiddled with the remote and after a few seconds, managed to change the channel, finding the one with the replay of all the District’s Reaping’s that was always on repeat for the duration of the Hunger Games. Ever since Aureolin had died in the Hunger Games, Crimson and Scarlet and Cadmium had done everything they could to prepare for this moment. Including watching as much of the Hunger Games, interviews, tribute reaping’s, as possible.

It wasn’t that Scarlet wanted to watch the Hunger Games and it wasn’t that she wanted to watch the death and the brutality and the desperation and the fear. It was because she wanted to understand as much about the Hunger Games as possible.

She wanted to figure out different strategies and ideas and create plans. Scarlet wanted to know why skilled tributes lost sometimes and why some unskilled tributes ended up winning.

Scarlet Wolfe wanted to win.

With over sixty names in the reaping jar, her very first year as an eligible youth, only to grow and accumulate each year until she turned eighteen, her coming here was just a matter of time. To Scarlet, it had been a forgone conclusion. She simply had not expected it to be this year, and she had not expected for Crimson to be forced to volunteer along side her.

Crimson knew as much about the Hunger Games as she did if not more.

For that reason, it was important for Scarlet to watch the Reapings, taking in as much information about her newfound opponents as possible and finding all of their weaknesses.

With that in mind, Scarlet focused her attention on the recap of the Reaping Ceremony from District 1.

Two eighteen-year-old volunteers. Not all the volunteers from districts 1 and 2 were eighteen, but what they did have in common was that they were all strong, well-fed, muscular, beautiful, and guaranteed to be well prepared for their upcoming ordeal, and this year’s volunteers seemed to be no exception.

The male tribute was tall and muscular with short blonde hair and a square jaw. He ate up the attention of the crowd cheering for him as he took the stage, using his arms to encourage them on.

The female tribute was just as confident as the male tribute, but in a slightly quieter way. She also smiled and waved at the crowd standing below them, blowing kisses, and even waving to some of them.

They were confident and deadly and though both seemed to be more interested in the crowd and their adoration, Scarlet knew that it would be a mistake to underestimate the Augustus and Elixia abilities in the Arena.

Following the reaping of District 1, was the recap of District 2. Like District 1, they were both eighteen years old and both had fought to volunteer. Both the female and male volunteer were fierce and battle ready. Like the tributes from District 1, they were tall and strong looking, their bodies filled out, likely from never going without a meal, but unlike District 1, their muscles were well defined, and their bloodlust shined bright from their eyes.

They wanted to enter the Arena. For glory. For honor. For the bloodshed.

It wasn’t just these tributes, but it seemed that the bloodlust was in every tribute of District 2. Enobaria Golding was a Victor from District 2 who had won five years prior. She’d gained popularity within the Capitol and, Scarlet assumed, her own district, when she won the games by ripping out the throats of the other tributes, with her teeth.

After her Victory in the Arena, Enobaria had gotten each of her teeth filed to points so as to not let anyone forget exactly how she had won the games. Each year after her victory, during the current Hunger Games, the Capitol always played at least one recap of Enobaria’s brutal games. Caesar and Claudius could always be found laughing and shuddering in mock fear.

Scarlet didn’t want that. She didn’t want her actions memorialized or used to instill fear in others. What she would do in the Games to try to survive them, she wouldn’t ever regret—as long as it kept her alive—but causing pain and death wasn’t something that she would be proud of.

She would be proud of surviving—if she survived. But she would never be proud of killing. Just as she had never forgotten a single beating that she had received in District 14, or a single lesson that she had learned from her schoolteacher, Scarlet knew that she would never forget what occurred inside that Arena.

When the announcements from the District 2 Reaping’s wrapped up, the screens changed to District 3. The male tribute was sixteen and the female was eighteen. Though there weren’t many Victors that came from the district, all of them had one thing in common. They were incredibly intelligent and clever, using their knowledge to outsmart the other tributes.

Like Enobaria from District 2, there was Beetee Latier from District 3. Beetee had won his Games by rigging a trap, electrocuting, and killing eight tributes at the same time. His Victory, that had taken place well before Scarlet was born, was still broadcasted in clips throughout the annual Hunger Games.

An uncontrollable shiver ran through her body at the thought of being electrocuted to death and Scarlet quickly forced her thoughts away.

One fact remained clear to her though. Scarlet Wolfe would not risk letting District 3 use their brains to outsmart or trap her. If she had a chance to kill them, she would not hesitate to.

Aside from District 1 and District 2, the only other district that a lot of people considered a career district was District 4. Scarlet didn’t consider the district a career district, but she did consider some of the tributes, career tributes.

To Scarlet, while watching the games, most of the tribute’s skills seemed to revolve around their District’s occupations. Fishing. And most—but not all—of the tributes from District 4 were skilled in throwing spears or tridents, knot tying, swimming, fishing, basically anything related to water.

The reason that Scarlet considered some tributes from District 4 career tributes, is because some of the tributes seemed to possess skills outside of that, that would have had to be acquired from years of practice and training.

This year, the tributes from District 4 were young—though not nearly as young as Scarlet and Crimson—being fifteen and sixteen years old. Maybe that would cause some to assume they wouldn’t be as big of threats, but Scarlet wouldn’t make that mistake.

She would reserve her judgments for after the days of training where she could see their skills up close and personal.

District 5 brought two sixteen-year-old tributes. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about either of them. Plain faced and of average build, but smaller than the Careers in terms of height and muscle.

From District 6, there was a seventeen and an eighteen-year-old tribute. Like district 5, Scarlet didn’t notice anything special about them and she hardly knew anything about their district, so it was impossible for her to speculate if they had a hidden advantage.

One thing was for sure though; Caesar and Claudius hadn’t been lying.

There were so many older tributes this year. Even if they weren’t skilled in any particular way that could give them an advantage in the arena, they would still be bigger and stronger than Scarlet which stacked the odds even higher against her.

Like District 4, District 7 was always a district to watch in the games. This year the tributes came in small, clearly malnourished packages in the form of a fourteen-year-old boy and a fifteen-year-old girl. Even though they were young, Scarlet would wait until she could observe their skills to make her final assessment on their threat level.

After all, District 7 worked with trees and lumber and quite a few of the tributes that entered the Arena had proven to have knowledge and skills in weapons like axes and saws.

Which meant that it was likely that they had to be allowed to do some sort of work while they were in school to gain those skills.

Unlike District 14, in which children couldn’t go fur trapping until after they had aged out of the Reaping. Though the children of District 14 were taught from a very young age how to hunt, track, trap, skin and take care of the furs, they had no way to gain actual experience until it was too late to benefit them if they were sent into the Arena.

Whether or not that was intentional or not, she had no way of knowing, but being sent into the Arena with an arsenal of knowledge that could save her life, but no practical experience on how to use that knowledge felt incredibly f*****g personal to her right now given her situation.

Aside from the career districts and District 4, Scarlet thought that the District 8 male could be a real threat in the Arena this year—not just to her, but to anyone who crossed his path.

Flax was eighteen, tall, and strong looking. He wasn’t as filled out as the boys from the wealthier districts had been, but his muscles were defined and there was a look in his eyes as he stood on the stage that told her to keep far away from him.

Scarlet dismissed District 9 completely. That the tributes were young, thin, small were the kindest things that Scarlet could say about them. The boy had been shaking like a leaf and about as thin as one, ready to blow over at the next gust of wind, and the girl stood on shaky legs with tears streaming down her face.

Jackson Spidell from District 10 was the Victor of last year’s Hunger Games, winning at eighteen years old. As one of the tallest tributes and of a thick build, Jackson had intimidated everyone around him, and no one had doubted that he would be a threat. Once he’d gotten his hands on a scythe, it was over. Jackson had proven as deadly with that weapon, as Finnick had with his trident.

But even with the knowledge of the most recent victor coming from this district, it was impossible to consider the thirteen and fourteen-year-old tributes a threat. Standing on the stage with their heads hanging low, as if they’d already resigned themselves to their fates.

Well, if they were looking for death, then Scarlet could assure them that they’d find it in short order.

As the video on the television changed from the cowering tributes of District 10, she was greeted by the sight of a powerful looking set of tributes from District 11. At seventeen and sixteen, both tributes looked equally determined to fight hard in the Arena.

District 12 brought two thirteen-year-olds. Neither were well-fed or particularly interesting. They looked dejected, like District 10, though not nearly as pathetic. They, at least, tried to keep their heads up high and face their uncertain futures bravely.

In this, Scarlet supposed that there was some good to being a slaughter-child. Scarlet had a long time to come to grips with her eventual future and prepare herself for this eventuality.

Once District 12’s reaping ended, she turned off the television, skipping her own reaping as she’d already watched most of her own reaping, and she didn’t see a reason to watch it again.

That left Scarlet sitting on the floor of the train car, staring at the blank television screen though. Her mind was reeling with the image of each of her opponents burned into her mind. There were so many older tributes. So many tributes that would be skilled and deadly.

Twenty-five tributes that would kill her without a doubt, given the opportunity. Scarlet didn’t have to kill them all.

But she would have to kill.

There was only one person that she was actively hoping to avoid inside of that Arena.

Scarlet felt a familiar presence settle next to her on the floor and she glanced over at the very person who she’d been thinking of.

Crimson’s familiar hazel eyes met hers.

She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze head on when she was just thinking about his inevitable death. Instead, she watched him through the reflection of the television screen.

“I won’t be your ally, Crimson.”

His fingers grabbed her chin and forced her face towards him. He didn’t let go of her chin until her eyes were on his lips. Ready to see what he had to say.

“I wasn’t asking, Scarlet.” She read his lips and looked up into his eyes.

His eyes were hard as they stared back at her. And the only feeling that she had was relief. Maybe that wasn’t normal or maybe that made her some kind of monster, but Scarlet knew that if they went into the Arena as allies—and stayed allies—they would both make it to the end.

Maybe most people would think that that would be a good thing.

But most people weren’t going into that arena with their sibling.

With their twin.

Scarlet had already accepted the fact that if she was going to live, then Crimson would have to die. And Scarlet would kill him if she had too, just as Crimson would kill her. But she didn’t want to be the one to kill him.

If they didn’t ally with one another and each went their own way, then there was a chance of one of them dying by another tribute.

“Only one of us will get out alive.”

“We both want to live, Crimson. Once we get into that arena, we can’t be brother and sister anymore.”

“Scarlet, we stopped being brother and sister the moment we shook hands on that stage.”

She nodded, never feeling more alone than she did in that moment.

Despite Crimson and her hardly ever seeing eye to eye, he was her twin. He was a part of her soul. A constant in her life. Someone she knew, inside and out. And one of the few people who knew her.

Even though she had already known that fact, it didn’t make it any harder to swallow.

Her offered hand on the stage of District 14 meant more than good luck or even goodbye.

It was permission for both of them to fight as hard as they could to survive, no matter the cost.

“One Wolfe goes home.” She said, repeating the words from the stage to her brother once more.

Crimson nodded his head, his lips curving up slightly, and hers followed without conscious thought.

She knew he thought it would be him to go back home. And if it wasn’t her, she wanted it to be him.

But Scarlet wanted it to be her more.

“One Wolfe goes home.”