murder in the dark | {logan/scarlette}

The last time the Olympics arrived, I remembered being stoked for them, practically running the entire distance to the train station, and jumping up and down in the seat the entire way. As it turned out, they were completely fucking stupid. My so-called friends claimed I was only bitter about the fact that I hadn't done a particularly good job in any of the events I had qualified for, but really I just happened to realize that they meant nothing. The only gold meant to be given to me was a laurel crown when I slayed the last of a heap of pathetic little weaklings in the Hunger Games.

So when they handed me the paperwork that claimed I had qualified for all three fencing events and the decathlon, I gave it a new home in the nearest trash can.

The night air was cool against my tempered skin. Less people at the Training Center meant more time for me to practice, so I had practically spent all of my free time there, tossing knives through the air, taking plant quizzes, sparring with those that weren't good enough to make it into the Olympics, which was actually kind of shameful on my part, sense that made the majority of them little-to-no competition for someone from a family that practically only produced victors. My aunt, my uncle, my cousin, and one day, me.

I had always thought Clarity had what it took, becoming a victor. Incidentally, I was wrong, because she couldn't even handle having a child before running into a knife and not even bothering to say goodbye. I don't care about people, but I did care about her, and having her taken from me just like that was a permanent reminder that letting people in is a fucking mistake.

In the darkness, I could barely see the small group, but they had already noticed me before I could even hear them speak. Once I reached them, I turned to my favorite of what I liked to call the "Hardcores"-- which was basically a term for the most dedicated, twisted, fucked-up monsters District Two had to offer. He had a curly head of dark hair that cast shadows in odd patterns on his round face. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" My voice is icy as always, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide the fact that my heartbeat is already starting to pulse with excitement.

Tonight is my night off, technically, but tonight is perhaps the night I put myself in the most danger.

Tonight is the night I show the world what I am made of.