Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
014. don't blame me ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
PAIN WELCOMED THE WALKER BOY AS SOON AS HE WOKE UP. His body ached uncomfortably, his lungs feeling like they were set on fire with each breath he took. He groaned as he sat up, looking down at his body to see him fitted in a hospital gown, and his arm was neatly bandaged up from where he cut out his tracker. The boy felt naked in his clothing. Although, Atlas didn't let it stop him from swinging his frigid legs over the bed and hopping off. He stumbled slightly as soon as his feet made it on the floor safely, closing his eyes at the sudden dizziness he felt from becoming lightheaded so quickly.
The District 10 boy tried to remember what the last thing was before he succumbed to darkness, but it was foggy—barely being a breeze of memories. Nothing appeared in his mind. Atlas Walker had no idea what happened while being in the arena, where he was or what happened to everyone else. His eyes scanned the room, his eyes narrowing on trying to find a weapon. Despite the boy's state, if Atlas were to go down, he would die swinging with honour. For all he knew, as soon as he stepped out of the room he was inhabited in, peacekeepers would rush over to him.
To Atlas's dismay, there had been no weapon in sight. Nothing with a sharp edge that could potentially provide him with safety.
Atlas struggled to walk with stability, stumbling into the doors until, down the corridor, he distantly overheard voices. Voices that seemed to belong to Finnick, Haymitch and another man that he couldn't quite pinpoint as he was still loopy from the morphling ( at least, that's what he guessed was the tubes were attacked to ) he had been hooked up to. As soon as the doors slid open, the chatter between the men stopped. First, Haymitch and Atlas made eye contact, followed by Finnick, but what took the Walker boy by surprise was to see the game maker of this year's game being a part of their discussion. Plutarch.
However, Atlas didn't have the time to question what was happening before Finnick charged towards the boy, grabbing ahold of the hospital gown coating his skin and harshly slamming his body against the wall behind him. Atlas groaned from the impact, the back of his head pounding on top of the weakness his body endured. Anger that Atlas had never seen was displayed on Finnick's face. Even after watching his first games and being an ally with him during the Quarter Quell, Atlas never saw Finnick be this infuriated.
"You were supposed to get her tracker out!" Finnick yelled. If the man realised the volume of his voice, it was obvious the Odair man didn't care about such a simple thing as he continued with the same tone. "Esther still had her tracker that you were supposed to remove! You saw her last. She was your responsibility!" Atlas grunted against the hold, conjuring the remaining strength left in his body with the powered adrenaline filling his body as he fought Finnick's hold of his gown.
