III. JUDGEMENT DAY

CHAPTER THREE
judgement day

IT WAS JUDGEMENT DAY. The day which will be Clio's last of mini-freedom. She could still see the blood on the hands from eight years prior, making her feel nauseous as she scrubbed away at her skin. The black dress she placed over her figure felt stiff and suffocating, the sleeves restrictive and the collar murderous. She stared at herself in the mirror, her hands moving to her hair to fiddle with the braids. Finally, she tucked in her necklace, before sighing at herself.

To mark July 4th, District 8 was in mourning and so they wore black. It was a niche little tradition everyone seemed to adhere to, something that reminded the Capitol of their defiance. Often, their reapings weren't broadcasted as properly as other reapings, such as District 1 or 2s. It seemed the Capitol did not want to showcase the defiance that had become rooted in District 8's own culture.

Clio herself was marking her day of mourning, straightening up the black dress she used to just wear when anticipating the kids she was forced to mentor and care for. Sickeningly, since she began mentoring, her kids barely survived. It seemed as though Clio Royce was nothing more than a bad omen, dooming the kids for all eternity the moment she held onto them.

Yet, now the mentor was becoming the mentee yet again. What a funny turn of events.

Finally walking out of the bathroom, the clacking of her heels echoed down the hallways as she scurried to the kitchen. Woof was dressed casually, not caring for the customs anymore since he knew he was going to be Reaped no matter what.

District 8 only had 3 victors: two women and one man.

Clio gave a tight lipped smile to Woof, who didn't even try returning it. He looked as though he had aged a thousand years, all the life dulled from his once bright eyes. Gabrielle sat on a stool besides the Kitchen Island, turning to see Clio and giving a small smile.

"Braids?" The ten year old hummed, passing Clio the hair brush. She parted it down the middle, sectioning it so she could braid it. The ten year old sat quietly in place, watching in front of her as her eight year old sister protested at the black dress she was putting on.

"Momma, this dress itches." Cecilia was trying her best to straighten up Peyton's collar, ignoring her cries. The black haired girl protested adamantly, wanting nothing more than for her mother to let her get changed back into her pyjamas. "Why do we even have to go?"

"Because it's Reaping Day, Pey." Cecilia reminded her. She untucked the girl's black hair, gently pushing strands of hair behind her ear. "You know what that means?"

Cecilia wasn't stupid. She knew her children knew what Reaping Day was. As much as she wanted to shield them away from the day, she couldn't.

"You or Clio and Woof are going back." Peyton was not dumb. Clio had always known that. The eight year old was probably the most observant kid she had ever encountered, always noticing small little things as though they were blatant.

It seemed as though she missed the small tear slipping down Cecilia's cheek.

Cecilia kissed her daughter's head. "Yes, baby. that's it." Her voice was soft yet broken, a shattered mirror trying to distort the truth. "Now come on, we need to go soon."

Cecilia's eyes looked broken as she watched her daughter paddle away, scurrying off to find her shoes. She turned and moved closer to Clio and Gabrielle, pressing a kiss on both their foreheads.

Cecilia stared at Clio, a hand placed on her cheek. "You okay, love?"

Clio nodded. "Perfect, promise."

Cecilia sighed. "You need to promise me you'll watch out for the girls."

Clio shook her head. "You aren't going back, Ce."

"There's two of us, Clio." Cecilia reminded her. She held onto the girl's arms, her touch light and soft in comparison to others. "You and me. Love, you can't go back."

"It's either that or the girls lose you." Clio bluntly stated. "They cannot lose their mother, Ce. I'm going back. You can't stop me. You aren't a fighter, not like the other victors."

Clio remembered when Cecilia told her how she won her games. The woman was eighteen at the time, a fragile and sweet teenager with wide eyes. She was smart though and had a great memory, so she focused on survival, but most importantly plants. Cecilia didn't want to get her hands dirty, especially through direct murder, so she decided a loophole, to evade murder by her hands. So, she saved all the tins she received through sponsors and placed berries in them. She had observed the other tributes long enough to realise they didn't try memorising the plants the way she did, so she knew her plan was fool proof. She started by gradually stealing the food at night, quick and agile enough to never get caught, and then sent the fake sponsors when it was clear the tributes would starve.

The Capitol thought it was a witty tactic, praising Cecilia the moment she returned out of the arena. They would've used her like they used every attractive or desirable victor, if Cecilia hasn't revealed her engagement to the entirety of Panem during her interview with Caesar. The crowd thought it was tragic and so naturally she gained sponsors.

But Clio Royce knew Cecilia Zhao would not survive in the arena for a second time. The woman always regarded her victory as luck, and Clio knew she wouldn't have that luck for a second time. The thought of losing Cecilia made her sick. She knew she was going to be going back the moment she laid in bed, listening to the agonising sobs from Cecilia's bedroom. She had spent most the night laying in bed, praying to whoever may be listening that the games were some elaborate joke created by Snow to pause time in th. But, every day passed and crows began following Clio Royce wherever she went, and the crows brought death along with them.

Death was an old friend of Clio Royce. She could hear his three knocks on her bedroom window every night, laying wide awake while she prayed for him to leave her alone. Death, however, seemed to welcome Clio Royce. His crows seemed fond of her, cawing almost happily whenever she stared at them for too long. They watched her almost greedily as the months passed and the Reaping Day grew closer, cawing an eulogy for Clio Royce.

She didn't even want to think about the games when she realised who would definitely be in them.

Finnick, Johanna. They were the only male and female victors from their districts. In a cruel twist of fate, Clio Royce would have to claim her victory by slaying them.

That's where she was doomed. She knew she'd die since she could never kill either of them. She'd carve her own heart out of her chest rather than use the knife on them.

The stage was more daunting then Clio remembered. This time, she stood there, stuck in the middle of Cecilia Zhao and Wilfred Barlowe. The audience of black and grey watched with emotionless expressions. Every ounce of Clio wondered how they all felt about this. Were they happy? Clio wouldn't blame them if they were. If she was them, she'd be relieved she was evading death once more.

It seemed as though even the crows stopped cawing to hear Eudoria Jessel's chirpy Capitol voice. The woman was an odd specimen, clearly short although godly as she stood in unbelievably high heels.

"Welcome, welcome," the woman was plastered in cakey blue makeup, a poofy blue dress blowing ever so slightly in the usual District 8 weather. "Welcome to the 75th Realing. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds he ever in your favour."

No one smiled or showed any sign of happiness.

The sight of a bright poster lady such as Eudoria Jessel was a stark contrast to the eeriness of District 8. She stared at the crowd of unamused and dead faces, smiling widely at the funeral of faces. "It is now time we choose two lucky—" her voice seemed to choke up ever so slightly, making Clio's eyes widen. "Victors, to represent District 8. As per usual, ladies... first."

She reached into the jar of two sheets of paper, seeming to take her time picking one out with her long black nails. The woman slowly opened up the name, her head tilting to the side.

"Cecilia Zhao." Her voice sounded pained as she read the name out, knowing fully well what would happen.

Before Cecilia could even react, Clio stepped forward. "I volunteer as tribute." Audrey reached out and clutched onto Clio tightly. Clio looked down with a pained expression on her face, looking towards the funeral of faces which truly did look pained at the thought of the woman returning nearly a decade after her game. She shrieked as Cecilia pried her off the girl. Every ounce of Clio wanted nothing more than to hold Audrey, Gabrielle, and Peyton, pretend this was a joke and leave.

But the crows were watching and her time had come.

"Very well, a volunteer." A fake smile was plastered on Eudoria Jessel's face as Clio moved, stood next to her. Her eyes softened as Cecilia crouched next to her youngest, picking up the little girl who unapologetically sobbed into her neck. "And now, for the male tribute." She reached into the jar, taking an equally long time to reach the paper, her nails struggling to open the slip, before reading out Wilfred's name.

Woof and Clio stared at each other, the moment he stood next to her, Woof pulling Clio close and pressing a small kiss on her head. His eyes were full of rage as he stared forward. Clio stared forward herself, breaking her stare the moment she felt a Peacekeeper's arms on her.

"Wait I get to say goodbye!" Clio begged, resisting as she was pulled harshly. "Get the fuck off me! Cecilia?" Clio stared behind the Peacekeeper, noticing the frantic look in Cecilia's almond eyes. The woman tried moving forward, only for two Peacekeepers to block her way.

"Clio?" She tried getting pass. "No! Clio? Wilfred? Let me see them!"

"No! Li Li!"

She could hear the girls and their shrieks, horror evident as they watched a part of their family get taken away.

"No! I get to say goodbye!"

The head Peacekeeper responded in an almost robotic voice. "New orders. Straight to the train." His grip was bruising, painfully marking her.

"No!" Clio cried out once more, her heart shattering as the screams of the girls echoed with the caws of the crows that once perched to watch her doom. Her sobs echoed as she listened to the euology written for her in their caws.



I love Clio and cecilia sm

Next chapter has clinnick content I promise

But damn poor district 8 fam

Deserved better fr

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