devils nest [ breakfast club v mutts ]

I wake up to the beating sun rising over the overgrown garden, a cruel amalgamation of beauty that almost made me want to surrender myself to the peace. It reminded me of summers in District Twelve, if you wandered near the District’s boundaries towards the vast forests that had remained untouched over the years. It was nature in it’s most prime form - whilst the inner walls were barraged with poverty and the smog layered so thick in your lungs you could barely breathe, the forests provided some sort of hope that maybe, just maybe one day things would get better.It was the same feeling I got in the garden. The slightest feeling of resilience passed over me, the smallest urge to fight every instinct in my body that told me to play the smart game, to do whatever it took to win the game with little regard to humanity.

But it left just as quickly as it came, and I wanted to hold onto every last second of humanity this arena would try to steal from me.

Drenched in sweat, my eyes blinked slowly as the sun beat directly onto my pale skin. Sleep had found me quickly when Peter had offered to do the final watch - even the menacing sounds of the arena couldn’t keep my eyes open as exhaustion took me hostage. I stretched my arms out - feeling oddly refreshed and renewed, as if even sleeping put me at risk of getting ambushed by some bloodthirsty tribute.

My stretch was interrupted by some sort of high-pitched squeaking. I looked to my right to find Peter, huddled up close to some sort of… miniature bear? I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, until it occurred to me that he probably trapped it in the night. A rumble in my belly reminded me that I had gone without food for more than 24 hours, and that as cute as that little bear thing was, I had priorities that lay with getting food in my belly.

“Peter,” I nodded towards him, my chin directed at the koala he held in my hands. I then got up and scanned my surroundings. I knew I had seen firewood around here earlier. “Here, I can start a fire if you can fillet it.”

Kawaila didn’t seem all that appetizing, but I also was never a picky eater. I began to trod away and collect some kindling before Peter’s voice jumped up behind me. “Fillet it…?” He asked, his voice soft with confusion. “Ellis! We are not cooking him! He’s my pet, I even picked out a name.”

The look I returned him could sharpen knives. “You’re keeping a damn pet?” I ask, not even attempting to hide the contempt lining my words. These middle districters were getting softer and softer as the years went on.

But I thought to our conversation just days ago, where Peter spoke like someone who hadn’t experienced hardships, where he just so softly caressed the outside of my lip to wipe off the hot chocolate with as much naivety as someone from District Six could only have. Peter and I grew up differently - and I didn’t know why I was so surprised that he would even think to keep a pet during these times.

“I mean look at him, he was all alone and scared. And he’s such a little guy. What if he died!?” Peter responded, matter-of-factly. I couldn’t hold back my eye roll. I began to wonder if maybe allying with someone so soft was a mistake.

I wonder how Esther was feeling right now. I didn’t really know much about how she grew up. She felt like a stranger to me - to us all.

"We eat it. You know, like a sane person would if they were hungry and there was no food around,” I told Peter, matter-of-factly.

“I’ll find us food, alright? Look at those big sweet eyes,” Peter cuddled the kawaila in closer, and I turned my back to him. He was beginning to piss me off and I was seconds away from decking the guy.

“You would never survive in District Twelve,” I muttered, as I flicked my pocket knife between my fingers.

Before I could hear Peter respond, a wailing sound brought my thoughts of knocking the sense into Peter at bay and I instinctively gripped my knife tighter in my hands as the sounds grew closer and closer.

Then, the garden came to life around me, roaring into a sequence of vines scattering all the way across the garden floor in a dance of pure malice. The vines crawled up up my legs, scratching at the bruises and bumps from the day before. I clawed away at them, but they were relentless as they tore at my skin.

And then I learned sometimes there were worse fates than dying at the hands of another tribute.

ellis attacks devils poison ivy, knife
3RvaEo9EXOknife
2095 -- Shallow Cut on Neck -- 4.0 damage
(Knife)

The ivy acts quick, lunging for our exposed skin through the useless armour and tearing into it like a bloodthirsty predator exciting to dig into its next meal. Except we knew the Capitol, we knew the Gamemakers - these mutts were designed to kill, or at the very least severely maim. Dig underneath your skin, weaken you so your chances of surviving the next day were slim.

It was cruel, but so were the Games, and that was the sad reality we had been dealt. I had come to terms with my death - but that didn't mean I was okay with suffocation by vines.

Their next move was calculated - their bodies lunged for all of us, crawling onto Peter and I's skin and cutting wherever it could reach. 

The vines crawled onto Esther, poking and prodding until they eventually found a spot where they could bare their claws, sinking right into her skin. The smell of blood entered my senses and Peter lunged for the vines, ignoring the ones that hit himself and hacking away at Esther's.

I grit my teeth and followed his lead as he screamed, trying to pry the gang of ivy off of Esther. My own knife digs into the vines and cuts away at the base. 

I say nothing but the occasional grunt. Words don't come easy to me in the face of danger.

ellis attacks devils poison ivy, knife
tKr|Tb16Gcknife
2010 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage
(Knife)

The ivy attacks me next, sinking its talons deep into my skin. I erupt with pain - its shrieks mixed with my screams in a symphony of pure terror, piercing through the air it sinks deeper and deeper into me. I frantically slash at its limbs as blood began to shed amongst the greenery before us. 

What might've been beautiful before had turned into a battlefield, a canvas of red and greens so terrorizing that it reminded me of the nightmares that haunted my dreams as a kid. 

And as Peter and Esther come to my rescue, searing their own weapons into the dancing limbs of the ivy, I thought of my mother. I wondered if she was watching me right now - if she was alive, what she was thinking. If she too was haunted by the canvas the Capitol had painted - watching her baby boy become the paint that stained the landscape below him.

Through my screams, I tear away at the ivy. A single tear rolls down my cheek, and for the first time since I left District Twelve I thought that I wanted to go home.

ellis attacks devils poison ivy, knife
6Yd5QL6ldIknife
2168 -- Deep Gash on Right Calf -- 8.0 damage
(Knife)