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the mask of murder

volume two; murder

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The walls of Elora Clarkes home are lined with photographs. Before she had been reaped and lost any semblance of family, the few photos her family could afford to take were haphazardly taped to her the wall above her single bed. Now, those photos lay forgotten under the rusting frame of her childhood refuge. She left her family in the past as they did with her. Elora was a new person now but the one thing she could never leave behind was her fondness of capturing a memory.

Her home is littered with photographs of her new family. Of her new life. Finnick makes up the majority with his sun kissed skin and beaming smile. Annie is in just as many. Framed photos of the soulmate pair together rest in various locations of her household. There are far too many of her and Finnick laughing on the beach. They're always a little bit shaky and a tiny bit too blurred because Mags takes those. Annie doesn't come to the beach.

Elora only has one photo of the four of them. It was taken only a week after the shark attack, but it has become her most treasured photo. Finnick and Mags took turns sleeping over in the hospital for her first week in recovery, and after that there was always someone with her during the day. Annie had come to visit despite the way she hates the hospital. It remind her too much of death, of the capitol, of her games and things like that could send her into an episode that would last for days. The three of them were cramped into Elora's tiny hospital room, which barely had space for the bed and Finnick, let alone all three of them. Elora had been so focused on making Annie laugh, on keeping her happy, that she almost missed how tired Mags looked.

A pat on the bed was all the invitation needed. The older woman climbed into bed next to her and they laid in the single cot so squished together there was barely room to breathe. Annie was giggling to herself quietly at the sight of them so uncomfortable. Finnick stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her frame. The next thing she knew the shutter of her old film camera sounded and they turned to see the old district nurse behind them. She carried that photo with her everywhere, even now, as she stands behind screen waiting to be called on for her tv interview. 

Elora could only hope she would get to make memories like that with Cato. 

This was her first interview since the capitol had found out about their soulmate bond, and consequently her first interview since he had entered the arena. Despite it only being a few hours ago it felt like years. The games were playing on screens all around her, even being broadcasted on billboards. In the capitol, it was impossible to escape the games.

The screen is split into three segments. The first depicts the girl from district eleven who is jumping across tree branches so fast it almost looks like she's flying. Elora is willing to bet the careers wouldn't even be able to climb majority of those trees, let alone catch her once she's swinging from the branches. Playing the games from the treetops gives the young girl a distinct advantage. Elora smiles at the thought. She hopes the girl dies painlessly. 

The middle section displays the career pack as they loiter around the cornucopia doing the same thing they do every year. They take notice of everything in the cornucopia, what medical and food supplies they have available to them, as well as any objects that may be important for future events. Elora remembers one year was a desert arena of which the floor of the outer arena burned away to reveal lava and smoke that carried toxic fumes beneath the surface. Gas masks had been supplied at the cornucopia, as well a few scattered around the sand dunes nearby. Those lucky enough to grab one survived, those without died a painful death. There seems to be nothing of importance this year.

Caesar calls her onto the show just as she catches a glimpse of the district five girl picking berries on the final section of screen.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the woman we have been waiting to speak to since the moment her name was uttered during that unbelievable tribute interview, Elora Clarke!"

She steps in front of the camera with her mask on. They would only see what she wanted them to, she would make sure of that. Caesar sits across from her with his deep blue hair and sparkling suit, a picture of capitol perfection. 

"Elora, my darling. What an honour it is to have you in our beautiful city once again."

She forces a smile, it is time for the sugar she is so well known for.

"Thank you for having me, Caesar, it is always a pleasure."

He chuckles good heartedly but the cameras cannot deny the warmth on his face. Even he is flustered by the capitols golden girl.

"Now, I have to ask, exactly when did you become aware of just how deeply intertwined your life had become with our dear Cato Hadley?"

Elora is glad there is not crowd here to give out a deafening cheer.

"It happened when I entered the tribute centre before the parade. He was in the lobby with his district partner, Clove. The moment we shook hands our fate was sealed."

She says it with a sweet smile on her face, with honey dripping from every word, a tale of romance spun for the audience. If only they knew how fast Elora had fled from the scene. 

Question upon question passes by in a blur. She answers them the way she always does, with a sweet disposition and gentle smile. The mask of a sun kissed golden girl from district four who can do no wrong. The mask she had taught Coral to wear too. She stumbles off the stage to watch Coral smile at Marvel that same sugar sweet way. Listens to every word she speaks and hears the way honey fills the gaps where hatred can be found. Elora watches as Coral dons the mask of a killer. 

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The time to go hunting was finally upon them. The idea of searching for tributes and picking them off had once sent a thrill down Cato's spine but now he feels his stomach churn in disgust. Elora would be sitting in her apartment watching him participate in the one thing that had destroyed her. He would have to act like he enjoyed it too. Pretend the idea of killing was exciting to him. It was time to play the role of a career tribute and the thought of Elora's disappointment, the idea that she could look at him differently after, made him detest his upbringing more than he ever thought he could.

Covered by the blanket that nightfall provided the alliance moved through the forrest section of the arena. Marvel lead the pack, with the promise of adding another kill to his belt encouraging him. Clove fell behind him with Coral by her side. Cato and Glimmer brought up the rear. He tried to ignore the way she looked at him but thankfully her incessant talking had stopped. The mark on his wrist had taken care of that for him. 

The light of a fire spread amongst the trees, illuminating their surroundings in a soft glow. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend he hadn't seen it. Turn the other way and ignore the blatant sign of another tribute. More than that, he wanted to go home, so he ignored his nagging thoughts and followed the direction of his alliance.

The girl was young that much was certain. Perhaps fifteen years old, and already going to die. Cato wasn't too sure what district she was from. The girl has been irrelevant all throughout the reapings, training, and interviews. With nothing interesting to add he had paid no notice to her until now. 

Glimmer was already offering him a knife. Clove was looking at him expectedly. Marvel had a glint in his eyes, a challenge, he thought he wouldn't do it. That his weak soulmate had rubbed off on him, as if the prior events at the bloodbath hadn't been evidence enough. Cato pleads with his stomach to stop its motion and he genuinely feels as thought he may throw up all over this poor girl.

He plasters on a smirk and slits her throat with a grin. 

All he can think about is Elora and what she thinks of him and the warmth of her blood on his hands. He knows she finds the games hard during an ordinary year, when her soulmate is not fighting for their life. He knows how they dig up old memories and make her scars itch. He tries to put himself back into the mindset of a district two tribute. Remembers who he came here for. Cato has to force himself to push Elora to the background and bring his family to the forefront. He was in the arena to bring a better life for them, to have a future with Elora, and to bring his district honour. 

He kneels by a nearby river to clean the blood from his hands, and watches the way it washes away with the current.