Timber

Chapter Twenty-Four: Interrogations

Caleb's voice, a hushed echo in the still night, murmured, "Good luck, Red," as the peacekeepers sternly urged Hazel to her feet. The fear that gripped her was an icy presence, overshadowing the dull ache in her left arm. She caught sight of Silus being similarly pulled upright. Ruby's soft sobs grew louder.

Percy's commanding voice cut through the tension. "Put the rest in their rooms and bring that brat from District 8 out here," he ordered. The peacekeepers began herding the remaining tributes back towards the manor, their steps echoing on the stone patio.

Leo shifted subtly, positioning himself a few steps closer to Percy. In the dim light, Percy reached into his back pocket and withdrew a small box. He expertly pulled out a thin cigarette and lit it in one swift motion. He took a deep drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that mingled with the night air. Holding the cigarette elegantly between his fingers, he massaged his temples with his other hand.

The peacekeeper who had whispered to Percy earlier returned, extending his hand to deposit two all too familiar items into Percy's palm. Hazel's heart sank as she recognized the small bottle and tube of ointment.

The glowing tip of Percy's cigarette cast a faint light in the dark, accentuating the grim set of his features as he took another prolonged drag. Smoke curled around him. Hazel watched him intently, a knot forming in her stomach. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, shifted from the items in his hand to where Hazel and Silus stood before him.

"Well, this is certainly interesting," Percy murmured, "I wouldn't have guessed all this trouble would have come from you two." He scrutinized them, his eyes narrowing.  He held up the bottle and the tube. "Care to explain these?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "And, more importantly, I'm interested to know who gave them to you."

Percy took another deep inhale from his cigarette, the smoke swirling in the cool air, his eyes never leaving Hazel and Silus. Hazel's body trembled slightly.

Silus's voice emerged, steady yet filled with an underlying urgency. "They're mine," he claimed.

She watched, her heart pounding, as Percy leisurely strolled towards them, a menacing calmness in his steps. He handed the items back to his peacekeeper with a casual flick of his wrist. "Hold onto these for me."

Percy's approach towards Hazel and Silus was deliberate, his footsteps measured and purposeful. His presence loomed over them, the cigarette in his hand emitting a thin trail of smoke that curled into the air. He stopped directly in front of Silus. The smell of the cigarette smoke mingling with the cool night air.

"Are they now?" he asked, skepticism lacing his tone as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The smoke swirled around them as Percy exhaled, directing a stream of it towards Silus's face. Despite the smoke, Silus remained stoic, his gaze unwavering, his jaw set in a firm line. Silus's silence only seemed to heighten Percy's interest. With a slight tilt of his head, Percy leaned in closer, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the darkness. "Don't go quiet on me now."

Percy inhaled deeply on his cigarette, then stepped closer to Silus. He grabbed Silus's cuffed hands, forcibly turning them to expose the stitches on his palm. "Hmm, I have some ideas about where that needle came from," he remarked, his tone icy. In a swift gesture, Percy pressed the burning cigarette into Silus's injured hand. The sharp hiss of skin meeting the hot ember filled the air. Silus's neck muscles tensed, a grunt escaping his lips as his face contorted in pain. Hazel felt a surge of anger and helplessness at the sight, her own hands clenching into fists.

"Stop!" Hazel yelled, the peacekeeper holding her maintained a firm grip. "It was me. They are mine."

"There we go," he murmured. Percy shifted his attention towards her, his dark hair slightly disheveled.