Promises of a Sacrificial Lamb |Destiel x The Hunger Games|

-31-

It's darker than ever amid the sea of trees.  I blindly sprint through the forest, hopping over tangled masses of tree roots and rocks and bumpy patches of terrain, my feet hardly touching the ground.  I can hear Cas' footsteps thumping close behind me, but only just barely.  The ominous wall of rain is barreling after us, bringing deafening claps of thunder and horrifying bolts of lightning with it.  I don't dare turn around.  I know it's right behind us.

I'm not even sure where I'm running.  I just know that I'm moving away from the dangerous storm, and that's more than enough to fuel my rapid movements.  My lungs are on fire.  My heart is trying to burst out of my chest, but none of it matters.  I'm afraid that if we slow down for a second—a second—we'll pay the price.  We've come too far to let something like that happen.

The rainforest zooms by in a blur.  Cas quickens his pace; I see him creep up in my peripheral vision.  Behind us, the rain seems to rush forward, chasing us like a predator after its prey.  I run faster, pump my arms harder.

I'm so focused on the path directly in front of me that I don't notice the lightning bolt descending from the sky until it's too late.  It strikes the ground just to the left of me in a blast so hot and violent and forceful that it knocks me to the singed earth.  Searing heat bites at my exposed skin.  I choke on the hot air that reeks of smoke and burning foliage.  The clap of thunder that happens at the same time is beyond deafening.  It's like it's splitting my skull in two.  The only reason I stagger to my feet and keep moving is because Cas helps me up and guides me forward, away from the advancing wall of rain.  Even then, I'm still so rattled that I can barely see where I'm going, let alone hear the threats all around us.

It doesn't matter.  The storm doesn't care.  I shake my head and force myself to run, following closely behind Cas as he takes the lead and darts through the darkening rainforest.  I stumble blindly over obstacles in the terrain, very nearly losing my balance a handful of times, but I stay steady.  I stay steady, and I don't slow down, no matter how difficult it is.

We don't stop until we blunder past a line of shrubbery and into a clearing.  I almost collide with Cas as he slows, wondering with terror why he's not moving anymore, and then I turn around and see what he's staring at.

The rain has stopped, just behind the shrubbery, like an invisible wall is keeping it out of the clearing.  Glancing around, I realize the entire clearing is surrounded by the storm, but none of it is slipping past the shrubbery.  Not the rain, the lightning.  Even the thunder sounds muted, like we're encased in some type of glass dome.  The only thing that alludes to a hint of the storm is how dark and dismal the clearing is.  Otherwise, it's perfectly untouched.

Except for one thing.  It's like a blemish in the midst of a faultless painting.  My stomach churns just looking at it, just thinking about all of the horrible memories associated with it, yet at the same time I can't tear my wide-eyed gaze away from it.

It's the Cornucopia.  That gleaming golden horn of nightmares.  Which means we're imprisoned in the clearing where the Games began all those days ago.

Which means we're ending this right where we started it.

There's no time to lose.  If the storm is surrounding the clearing, then that means the boys from District 2 are on their way, if they're not already here.  I grab Cas' hand as the shrill ringing in my ears gradually begins to subside and pull him away from the line of shrubbery.  We cross the clearing, come to a stop at a large tree about halfway between the empty mouth of the Cornucopia and the edge of the glade.  We press our backs to the trunk, just so no one can sneak up behind us.