Venom [Cass]

I don’t like it here.

It’s a lot. So far, I’ve met Finn and he’s broody and a little moody. He seems to want to hold the world at arm’s length because he’s scared that if he lets anything in it’ll just hurt him. Letting your fear rule your life takes meaning out of it, it prevents you from being able to value what you have. I get that fucked up things can happen, but it doesn’t mean you should stop being able to love the beauty that exists before us all.

Fiona is a little weird. She’s already offered to let me share her room with her, which I graciously accepted. Even sleeping on the floor feels a little safer than the loungeroom. The stories I’ve heard about Isabelle and Tobias are enough to make me want to avoid them. That’s pretty much impossible, but I can certainly try. Staying out of the way of the older kids seems a little more challenging as most of the lessons we do are group ones.

They’re all strong. Elizabeth looks like she could crush my head with her thighs. Declan just scares me, and honestly, I’m very intimidated by the looks I keep receiving. I’ve been trying my best to blend in, fall into the shadows at the back of the group. My glasses have already been damaged from sparring, and I’ve already been yelled at by Victor for not being good enough. I’m sixteen, late to the training regime that they’ve all been put through for years.

I have no muscles or strength, I hardly eat enough to even fuel my body let alone wield it like a weapon. The only thing I’ve found easy has been Killian’s classes. The endless books I’ve read have come in handy and I’m confident and capable of answering most of the ones he asks the class. But, I never do. That would require standing out and proclaiming to the rest of my siblings that I could possibly be a threat. I don’t want that at all, so I sit back, biting my lip as a listen to Elijah or someone else respond. It’s safer this way.

Two years, I keep reminding myself, that’s all I have to survive before I can safely escape. I can go back to being a Reed and I can go back to living my own life.

The voice breaks the silence around me and I look up from my book to see Killian Strauss standing in front of me. From what I’ve gathered he’s the book worm of the trio, something more akin to my own interests. Out of the three I’m more inclined to talk to him, our interest aligning somewhat more than with Octavia or Victor. It has been a long time since I last saw a library, back home my own books had been stacked on the floor, stretching all the way to the ceiling.

I’d been lost in the same three or four books, whatever I could get my hands on in the orphanage. Closing the book I stand up, grabbing the hand that Killian offers me with little hesitancy. Perhaps this was my way to protect myself, where I lacked skill with a sword of words I could protect myself with knowledge and books.

“I’ve been dying to find some new reading material,” I exclaim, looking at him with a smile. I offer him the book I was just reading, it’s a book about fauna and flora, describing the difference between medicinal and edible plants and their applications. “I’ve read this one a few times, pretty much memorised it by now, I’m definitely in need of something fresh.”

It’s hard to summarise the feeling that bubbles in my chest as I follow Killian. He talks as though my mind is going to be blown by the beauty that awaits me. He speaks with such conviction that I find myself eagerly pattering onwards, trusting that I’m going to be lead to a wonderful new world. I can only imagine what it’ll look like, what it’ll feel like to run a hand over a thousand different book spines. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a fresh book in my hands-

Oh and the smell!

My mother wasn’t the biggest fan of fresh paper, less so of older more musty pages. But, I found the smell comforting, like welcoming an old friend back into my hands. The feel of paper against my fingers was reassuring, a promise of peace and freedom for the few hours I could waste enveloped within a book. I feel almost giddy thinking about the treasure trove that will be unveiled before me. It’s hard to stop my smile from stretching all the way to my eyes.

That dream is quickly crushed as Killian asks me to not touch anything without permission. I resist the urge to pout, instead, nodding my head obediently as he smiles. It didn’t mean that I couldn’t touch the books, I’d just have to make sure I could. Fair enough, a request that I’ll have to work hard to oblige to prevent my excitement from getting the better of me.

We stop in front of a large wooden door which I can only assume to be Killian’s office space. His hand moves to the handle and I watch eagerly, eyes peering around his side and ready to take in the beauty within. I’d never really understood why people hated books, there was so much to be valued from knowledge. Even in a match of raw strength those that could think would more likely come out on top. Beyond that, how could you hate embracing a world created by words and your imagination? Even in non-fiction books, curiosity drove my desire. I wanted to learn about the world around me.

The door opened to reveal everything I had ever wanted. I almost go to push past Killian, but I contain myself, bouncing on the balls of my feet as he steps in first. There are shelves everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling and- The books.

They are everywhere, no space free. My jaw dropped as I stared, gaze taking in the sight with open awe. It was the kind of dream I’d run and tell my mother about, tripping over my words in my excitement. She’d tell me to calm down, speak a little slower as she laughed, her own smile as bright as mine. It ached, thinking about her small and laugh, about the fond glint to her eyes as I told her all about the book I’d just finished reading. Sometimes she didn’t understand, but no matter what I said she’d always listen with enthusiasm that warmed my heart.

I miss her so much.

I swallowed, stepping in and turning to face Killian. “This-” I said, arms waving at all the books “-it’s incredible!” I laughed, completely taken by the beauty of the room.

“Can I touch them?” I pointed to the books closest to me, taking a step forward. My hand was already reaching, eager to embrace the feeling of paper under my fingers. “Or, better yet, what can’t I touch?” It’d be easier to keep track of that in my head, rather than everything I could touch.

"You can touch the books."

And that’s all I need to hear before I’m pulling the first one of the shelf that my fingers come in contact with. It’s heavy, a hardback covered book that feels very old. I’m gentle with it as I look over the cover, a finger running over the emboldened title. My jaw drops in awe, a shiver racing down my spine as I’m absorbed by the feeling of the book against my skin.

“Venom,” the title says, and I find the word falling from my lips before I can stop myself. I’m already fascinated, pulling it open to the first page as my eyes travel over the length of the page. It seemed that the book was all about venomous creatures that lived in the world back before Panem was created. My interest has peaked and I snap the cover closed, tucking the book under my arm. This one was definitely leaving with me.

My eyes roam around the room, searching for any other title that stands out, but I’m caught as soon as Killian finishes speaking.

“Poison vials?” I echo, glancing around the room to see if they’re nearby. I’d always wanted to see what poison actually looked like. Reading about it in stories left the entire notion of killing people with liquid as such an enigma. I wanted to know more about it, the possibilities were endless. From the moment I’d stepped foot into this household, I’d felt behind and very much so out of place.

I wasn’t strong and I had no intention of learning how to become proficient in weapons the same way all the other kids did. I was searching for something that I could manipulate and use to get ahead of the pack. A weapon laced in poison sounded appealing. Learning how to be sneakier, capable of slipping drops of toxins into bottles of water or food. That was more on my level of skills and ability.

“I want to learn more about poison,” I say, eyes trailing back to the books. If there was a book on venom there was bound to be one on poison, but-

I wanted more than that. Reading about it was one thing, but holding and touching? That was far more invaluable. I look back at Killian, “can you teach me about them?”

There was no doubt that he was an expert, and I had the sense that he appreciated when people showed excitement for things he loved.