VENUS《 FINNICK ODAIR

Chapter 51. A BROKEN RECORD.

T/W: Riots, violence, PTSD.

THE BROADCAST REPEATED HER PENANCE LIKE A BROKEN RECORD.

Waiting patiently, the hospital waiting room stayed stagnant in her shadow. She was transfixed by the technicolour filling the small screen of the television in the top corner of the room.

It was a comfort seeing the kind face of Woof at her age.

The young man lifted his sword with ease, striking each person who dared to take what was his own.

Blood caressed the side of his dimpled cheek, a long slash scorching his upper arm. If it wasn't for the small mole next to his left eye, Edith wouldn't have recognised him.

The polarity rendered her complacent.

Because if she was to watch back her Games again, each key moment compiled into a pretty little reel, would she recognise the kohl darting up her arms? The ashen skin, sunken eyes and midnight black draining from her eyes? The girl who pushed two into deep water and threw a knife at another? The monster who let her friends sacrifice themselves over and over, with no way to ever repay such a debt?

She wouldn't, and the fact that whoever that stranger was still resided within her made her feel more dangerous than ever.

Hands retract, claws now born out of scars and ash.

Edith glanced upwards to the television screen.

He was scared, and so was she.

But knowing that in each clip they analysed that he'd survive, that in each moment of peril would lead to this...

She didnt know whether scared was the right word for it.

If anything it was disgust.

"...and tonight folks! We continue with special coverage of our favourite man from District 8! He's a constant in our lives isn't he Caesar?"

"Oh! Isn't he just Claudius, we love him for his sarcasm, we love him for his class... but most importantly, we love him for the kindness he showed us long ago. I remember my dear old father talked of Woof fondly back in the day... said he was the wittiest man out of the of the Capitol! Now, now, I say he is more than just a witty man, his wit was born from wisdom. We thank our doctors, we thank our nurses and we thank the Hospital's sponsors from the Academy- they are the reason he'll walk on this earth for many more days to come," Caesar placed a hand to his chest, Claudius dabbing his eyes.

Edith grimaced from her seat. She was focused on the teleprompter light reflected off their sweaty temples.

That and the fact it was most likely someone graduated from the Academy who designed the teal liquid they injected into Woof's bruised body.

The hospital chatter bit slowly at her concentration, gnawing away at the little drips of sanity left like a vulture stripped carcass.

Her hands gripped the sides of the plastic chair, the leather cushioning squeaking when she sat up to cross her legs. People sat in the waiting room beside her, eyes wandering over once they recognised the Siren without her war paint.

Claudius' relentless chatter was cut off with a hand from Caesar Flickerman.

"Now... yes... folks, we have recieved news from the University Hospital regarding Wilbur Barker. Our friend Venera is on the scene ready to report. Venera?"

A woman with vermilion hair flashed on a splitscreen beside the two men. She was jittery under a purple umbrella, microphone in hand.

"Thanks Claudius, today marks the fifth day our favourite man from District 8, Wilbur Barker, who we all know as Woof, was revealed to have had a stroke."