5.16 death herself

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There was an hour to go. Calypso had resolved herself to what she had to do. A thin throwing knife was tucked neatly up her sleeve and she was ready to finally end it all, whether it ended badly for her or not. Katniss had her nightlock pill, but Calypso no longer felt the need for hers. If she got arrested, she got arrested. She just didn't want to die anymore. Not now that she had Finnick to think of.

Knowing it was probably a bad idea, she made her way across the large flat green of the mansion gardens and headed for the greenhouse where Snow grew his precious white flowers. Katniss had told her about where he was being kept, which until that point had been information she was not privy to, probably for the best. But things were in motion now, and she would make no drastic moves to change them.

"Ma'am, you can't-"

"Save it," Calypso interrupted the poor rebel soldier on the door. She pushed her way inside, looking over the rose bushes in search of his familiar, slimy smile. "I know you're in here, and it's comically villainous for you to try and hide."

"I'm not hiding, Miss Silva," Snow replied, making himself known from the back side of one of the bushes. "Or is it Mrs Odair now? You needn't fret, either way. I was just smelling the roses."

"It doesn't matter what you call me anymore," she said. "You won't be smelling the roses for much longer."

"So I've heard," he hummed. "Tell me, is it you or Miss Everdeen who will bring about my end?"

"Katniss."

"A disappointing answer. Did you at least fight for the honour? I would expect no less from the girl who is known for her unquenchable thirst for blood. After all, it is my blood that you wish to spill more than anyone's."

"Why are you obsessed with me?" Calypso asked exasperatedly. "As if I'm the only one prone to such violence, when you've raised so many of us to be your precious little serial killers. Your unruly beasts."

"Obsession is an exaggeration," Snow said, offended. For a moment, he coughed and sputtered until blood fell through his lips and onto his handkerchief. "Call it a fascination. I've never met anyone like you. You perfectly embody what it is to be stripped of ones humanity, to be driven so quickly and blatantly to our primal instincts. That is something my old mentor, Dr Gaul, once told me, and until recent years I'd begun to lose faith in her message. And then you came along. Make no mistake. I'm proud of you, Mrs Odair, for being the predator and not the prey."

"You're a psychopath."

"Or maybe I'm just a visionary."

"And look how the last visionary that I crossed paths with died," she retorted. "You're lucky that your death will be a swift one, because I have a thousand ways I could make you hurt worse than any victim of the Blood Mutt before you. That is if you don't choke on your own blood first."

"You still talk as if that's who you are," he observed with a wicked smile. "The Blood Mutt."

"That's not who I am anymore," she defended herself. "I'm not the beast you tried to turn me into."

"Are you not?" he questioned. "Are you not using every ounce of strength within you to not kill me this very moment? I'm going to die today, but I don't believe for one second you would so easily let go of your revenge and give the kill to Katniss."

Calypso had nothing else to say. The words could not form in her throat. As Snow's smile only grew wider, she turned on her heel and left.


-


Drums echoed in unison down the parade, methodical and slow, played by rebels that were eager to watch the tyrannical President Snow die. Calypso felt as if she were attending a tribute parade all over again, being stood side by side with her fellow victors. On the right side stood Annie, Enobaria, Johanna and Beetee. To the left, Peeta, Haymitch and the Odairs.

Behind them, moving in step with what remained of the rebel army, Katniss approached the centre. She looked at Calypso for less than a second before her steely gaze met President Coin, stood high on the same podium Snow used to, looking down upon her new empire.

The fallen leader was tied to a thick wooden post, awaiting his end with bated breath. Until Katniss' arrival, he'd been watching Calypso intently, waiting for her to do something or even goading her into it. Her fingers kept reaching into her sleeve, feeling for the knife. He was just close enough that she could get an accurate and forceful throw. Through the eye, through the throat. Either way worked, as long as he was dead at the end.

"Welcome to the new Panem," Coin greeted her nation, arms spread wide and voice echoing louder than it should have. "Today, on the Avenue of the Tributes, all of Panem, a free Panem, will watch more than a mere spectacle. We are gathered to witness an historic moment of justice. Today, the greatest friend to the revolution will fire the shot to end all wars. May her arrow signify the end of tyranny and the beginning of a new era. Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure."

Katniss moved slowly, nocking an arrow on her bow and lining up her shot with Snow. Calypso's fingers reached back into her sleeve, poised to take the knife and throw at a moment's notice. The metal was cold, but it burned her skin. That dark part of her urged her to take it out now, run at Snow and give him a bloodier death than intended. But she waited.

Katniss fired. With her arms still wide, Coin wobbled backwards and forwards, then fell with the arrow lodged deep in her heart. Calypso pulled the knife from her sleeve, gripped it tightly and sought aim with her sharp eyes.

But she did not raise it to throw. As Snow's gaze turned from Katniss to Calypso expectantly, she hesitated. He knew. He always knew. He was always one step ahead of them in every regard, including in knowing them and their actions. She really was that predictable, that bloodthirsty. She could never give up her revenge so easily.

But that was not who she wanted to be. She had a future now, one that was as bright as the sun Poet used to love so much. It started with him, and it would end with her. Snow would die this day, but she would not have his blood on her hands. She was going to wash them clean.

Calypso slipped the knife back into her sleeve.

"Calypso," Snow called out, coughing up blood as he tried to speak. No. His Blood Mutt was not failing him now. No. "Kill me. Kill me!"

She almost listened to him, fingers still dancing over that cold metal. But Finnick took his hand into hers with a look that said he understood, and that he was proud of her. He pulled her hand away from her sleeve, and they simply stared on at their greatest foe as he choked on his own blood, begging for his greatest monster to kill him before it, too, died inside her.

The crowd surged forward in the aftermath of Coin's unexpected death. Calypso lost sight of Katniss and Snow far too quickly, but the sounds of it remained. He yelled and begged, but it was far overpowered by the rallying cries of the rebels. It would've been impossible to know if Snow choked on his blood or if he was crushed under the weight of all the people he'd wronged. But it didn't matter. He'd died this day, and Calypso could turn her gaze from the pain of her past to the sea green eyes of her future. 


-


a/n: oof. here we are at the end. the only thing left after this is the epilogue which i hope will be a worthy conclusion to calypso's story. i've spent 5+ months writing Failure To Comply now and i've fallen in and out of love with her so many times. laughed, wept, got very angry at my numerous periods of writer's block. i hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as i have. 

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