The Rebels Coup De Grâce (THG AU)

Chapter Two: The Bloodbath

Once all of the tributes gathered their weapons, even those that weren't in a pact all ganged up on Snow. He remembered that fateful night from the 10th games, where he killed, oh, what was his name? Oh yeah, Bobbin. He killed Bobbin quickly. Now, he needed to do that to forty-nine others, which all hated him. Coriolanus knew they weren't going to kill him instantly. Instead, they were going to torture him. They were going to make a mockery of Snow's legacy. But right now, he wondered, how did the rebels still get him? He knew that he should've just destroyed thirteen when he had the chance, but how? How had they survived?

He rushed into the Cornucopia and grabbed a pitchfork before disappearing into the streets. From what Lucia had shown him, there was an underground tunnel only he could access in the event of an emergency. He began unscrewing the gate silently, trying not to be heard. Enjoy the show! still echoed in his head. Once the gate was open, he jumped down and quickly put the opening back in place. He was trapped in a labyrinth, and he had to get out soon before anyone found him. By now they'd be looking in every damn corner, scavenging for every single trace he could find.

As he ran, horror filled him as he realised that he forgot to shut both of the two latches. They were probably already getting ready to hang him. This tunnel led straight to the Capitol Building. Even if he made it out, they were going to make it out as well. Right now, all he needed was a weapon. His hands were too weak to fight, and he had dropped his pitchfork when he was sprinting away. After taking a deep breath, he started bolting in silence throughout the abandoned sewage. It stunk, and so did he, but it was the price he had to pay to live.

Right as he approached the end, where he thought he could find safety, a group of ten soldiers appeared, with a woman behind them. He quickly recognized her face, and he saw a glimpse of hope. Maybe they had come to rescue him, but it was in fact quite the opposite.

"Hello, Coriolanus," Lucia said, a hint of revenge in her eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Coriolanus shouted before realizing his mistake.

"You are a mistake, Coriolanus. You should've died in the war with your father. You look just like him. But now, it's too late. You are going to go back into the arena with everyone else and fight to the death. I'm sorry it had to end this way. You will not die with honour. You will die in immense pain. You will feel the pain of every damn life you've taken. I wish we could've met under different circumstances. Goodbye, Coriolanus Snow. And may you rot in hell with your father."

He stood there in shock, not knowing how to process all of this. His eighty-five year old body didn't know how to process all of this. Five tributes came in from the other side. Even though his hands were weak, he smashed into a guard, taking his rifle. He then proceeded to shoot every other guard, then pinning Lucia to the wall. She didn't dare to say anything, instead laughing manically.

"The Commander has taken over as President. This is the last Hunger Games," she said before Coriolanus impaled her head with a bullet. 

He fought viciously with the other tributes until each and every one had fallen. His weak body banged on the doors to the surface, but they were fully locked. At this point, he was weighing the merits of suicide, but he couldn't go out in such a cowardly way. Not like his idle, even though that was back during World War 2.

He fell to the ground and started panting quickly trying to catch his breath. He thought about the luxury of the Capitol, and how it was going to fall apart as soon as he fell out of power. Panem was going to fall if he didn't reinstate himself. But how long would it take to do that? And even if he managed to, would it be too late? He had to turn his country into a True Panem, one where he could bathe in all the riches he wanted. 

Once he was back on his feet, he decided to go back to the surface. He had to show his face, to assert his dominance. Snow was the alpha, after all. Coriolanus shuffled quickly, making sure to conceal. Once he was at the highest point of the building, he reminded himself that Snow lands on top. He remembered the days he could sit at this point on his throne and watch the sunset before one of his tours. He sat down and looked up at the sun. It's light didn't blind him, and it wasn't even hostile to begin with.

It was hard for him knowing that he definitely wouldn't get any sponsors. Even if some die-hard fans tried to donate, the new dictator would probably halt them. All of a sudden, a gift fell from the sky next to him. It contained a cup of chicken noodle soup and a message. I'm sorry, Coriolanus Snow. I would call you president, but it's quite the opposite. This is the only gift I'm giving you. Goodbye, Coriolanus. See you in hell. He laughed, knowing he'd go to Heaven with Dr. Gaul.

He gobbled down the soup quickly. It was weird not having his special juice to make him throw everything up again. There was a small wound which had, thankfully, stopped bleeding, but it was still of some concern. His head hurt like crazy, still trying to grasp the situation. All of a sudden, someone appeared behind him. Out of fear, he stabbed them in the stomach with a pitchfork and held them off the building.

"Please... Spare me-" she got out before Snow dropped her. He heard her body bounce before bursting all over the side of the sidewalk. He was used to it by now. He knew that the game makers were going to do everything they could to kill him, but he had to take down the evil regime that confronted him. 

He didn't know how much longer he'd have before something got infected and killed him, so he decided that tonight, he was going out for blood. Once the sun fully set, he took his spear and quietly climbed down the stairs. Once he was out in the streets, he knew he had to be more mindful of his surroundings. His first victims were a family of five from District 8. The youngest one, only seven, had severe tuberculosis, and he was proud that he put that district scum to rest. 

After killing a couple more people, he decided to go to sleep for the night. But something wouldn't let him. Was it the guilt, or was it the fear? He recalled hearing when he was younger that there were only two emotions: love and fear. It took him decades to realize he was missing one of those. He must've given the other one to Sejanus and it went with his death. 

He ended up staying up all night long, drowned in is own thoughts. Was it too late to change? Could that emotion come back?  But nothing was strong enough to sway him. After a couple deep breaths, he finally drifted into ataxia, feeling tranquility and comfort in the darkness of the night. Earlier today he had boarded up the stairs, so the only way someone could attack him was by throwing something from another building. 

The next morning, he was revitalized. He had stolen water from the family with Tuberculosis, and he downed as much as he could. His body wasn't used to these conditions. Coriolanus was used to waking up in his silk bed with his servants (which were actually his indentured slaves) feeding him bed in breakfast. He would laugh, watching them bend over backwards for his every, stupid need. There was a massive projector in the sky that showed Caesar Flickerman announcing the weather before moving on to the games.

"Hello, Panem," he said softly. Coriolanus stared into his eyes, and for some reason he could somehow feel he's eyes staring back. "In a shocking twist of events, as most already know, Former President Snow has landed back into the arena. Many people thought he'd be dead by midnight, but they're in fact wrong, as he has survived another day. Not only has he taken out multiple families, but he had plans to make it to the end." Where the hell did they get that from? he thought. I know I'm going to make it out. "Moving on to the other tributes, the number of tributes has dwindled all the way down to 23. Most didn't survive the night from disease and other problems. These games are the final reminder that the cruelty of President Snow is over." Cruelty? I gave them everything they have, yet they remain ungrateful. Of course they are. Rebel scum.

Part of him actually believed that there was hope in Caesar, but it was over. The second he left the arena he would erase this from history and remind Panem that they are all stronger under the Capitol's rule. It wasn't a matter of how but when, as he needed to know how much longer it'd be until he made it back home. All of a sudden, he noticed a glimpse in the corner of his eye. He grabbed his pitchfork in a fraction of