Breaking Point// [June&Cassius]

Clayburn, Cassius

With the prisoner at his back, the man closes his eyes focusing his other senses on the room. The clanging of chains, then the rapping of boots on tile, and finally the door clicking closed. He is finally alone with his prey, but not ready to devour it. No, one does not kill a poor animal cornered. They play with it.

He could hear her breathing. The ragged sound of a frightened citizen trying to take in as much air as their lungs would allow them. He could almost see her chest moving up and down with the action. Her finger nails clawing at the arms of the chair- pupils dilated, hair on end. Every sign of a animal that knows what happens when it has been captured.

Spinning around, Cassius took in the girl before him. She was just as he imagined- terrified. She was young, still had a few more Reaping years on her. She radiated youth. Hair the color of sunshine, wide bright eyes staring up at him. She reminded him of his little doll, Ariadne. Not in their features, in that aspect they were completely different. Ariadne has dark hair and mossy eyes, tanner skin and a wider cheekbones. No, this girl reminded him of when he first saw Ariadne in the same room they were in now. Innocent to the cruelty of the world.

He made a note to fix that.

"So, Miss Rhodes," he hissed, taking a few steps forward so that he stood directly in front of her. "What makes you think you can strike a Peacekeeper?"

Clayburn, Cassius

A chuckle bloomed from the man's throat before the girl had finished her testimony. Cassius had interrogated many citizens- beggars, shopkeepers, traitors, even political prisoners from the Capitol. Never in his life had heard such ridiculous words coming from someone shackled into a chair. Sure, they try to sweeten him up to keep their skin intact but this poor little girl was milking it so hard he was surprised she hadn't found a way to kiss his bootlaces.

His laughter bounced around the small room while his heels clicked against the tile. He made his way circling around the prisoner, his hand searching the inside of his jacket for all the fun stuff that hid beneath the clean white fabric.

"Truthfully nothing," he shrieked in a high voice, mocking the girl and her fear. "my logical sense."

The man came to a stop in front of the girl and leaned forward, resting a hand on one of the chair arms. "If you were foolish enough to act out then what is keeping you from attacking innocent people in the future?"

He leaned in close, making sure he was staring directly into her eyes.

"You're a danger to society, you're not fit to be with people in your state," he stood up again, and reached into his jacket.

"I'll have to teach you a lesson and make it really stick," his voice was like liquor, smooth and bitter. The light caught the edge of his blade as it was pulled out of his pocket. A thin simple knife. Normally, a knife is thought of as a household object. A kitchen utensil. A work tool. In this room it is a paintbrush for Cassius' creativity. Brushstrokes in red, he made his masterpiece with this knife.

He wondered what art he could make from Miss June Rhodes.

Clayburn, Cassius

Her words went on and on. At first, Cassius decided to let her do her speaking. Only thing was, she didn't seem to stop. She was proud of her dumb speech. He would have let her keep her innocence, but he needed to teach her lesson. That speeches don't solve problems, and acting tough will only earn you more pain.

"Shut up, you stupid girl," he snapped, grabbing a handful of her hair and shoving his knife against the skin of her neck. "You think you're tough? You think you're better than me?"

Teeth were mashed together so hard he was sure people all over Panem could hear it. He was tired of all these citizens thinking they were so high above him. He was the one in the white uniform and they were the ones in chains. These idiotic children needed to learnt heir place in the food chain- the bottom.

His blade pressed harder against her neck, just barely breaking the skin. He lowered his face so that his lips were right by her ear.

"Every word you say without my permission, I cut into your skin," he hissed, his hand gripping the hilt with white knuckles. "So I suggest you watch what you say."

Clayburn, Cassius

The girl's pale throat shuddered under the knife, her chest heaving with a hesitant breath. Cassius' fingers itched to move the knife closer, the break the skin. To go deeper and deeper until he hit bone. Until the air was full of screams instead of heavy silence. He wanted blood on his hands, on his face, on his clean white Peacekeeper uniform. He wanted a real interrogation. Real torture like the good ole days when wanderers were caught and lost hands. When people were branded. When he was let loose on the citizens of Panem to do whatever he liked. Instead he was sent to scare people like this girl. Less and less prisoners were actual offenders, just more people getting fed up with the Capitol bullshit. Cassius knows all to well the kinks in the government. If it weren't for the shadows cast by the system his crimes would be in full view. It would be him in the chair, with a knife to his throat. Or a bullet in his heart.

"Come on. What do you want to say, June," the named slipped from his lips like oil. "Feel free to tell me what you think about me."

He walked around her so he was facing her back, his blade still at her neck. Hunching over he pressed his face against the side of hers. His lips smashed against her ear.

"Give me a piece of your mind."