The next morning, once the bombing of the surface was over, Katniss ventured out into the destruction to film a reassuring message to the rebels of each district. A message to say that she and District Thirteen had survived the Capitol's attack. That hope was not lost. But what she found waiting for her, destroyed all hope she had in herself.

In the crater of rubble and debris, a cascade of white roses had been dropped, their pristine petals an unnerving sight amongst the obliteration of grey concrete. But in the centre of all the chaos sat a flower of a different kind, its darkness providing a stark contrast with the innocent light surrounding it. A single black dahlia.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

"Where do your loyalties lie?"

"To the Capitol."

"Who do you serve?"

"President Snow."

"What is your name?"

"The Black Dahlia."

After the disastrous broadcast where Peeta managed to let slip Snow's plans to wipe out District Thirteen, certain safety precautions had to be taken. Including running diagnostics on their little weapon to check she wasn't free of their control. There had been many concerns for her allegiance when she didn't react to Peeta's reveal of their secrets. Some thought her refusal to act was an admission of guilt.

The Black Dahlia was strapped into the machine just in case those rumours were true, the scientists and doctors already prepared to administer the mind wipe once more. To the relief of the Capitol, the Mockingjay's interruption hadn't caused any visible damage to the girl's training and obedience. After asking the necessary questions, the Madame turned to Snow with a satisfied nod. She believed the Black Dahlia had not been compromised.

"The plan can go ahead as we agreed?" Snow checked in a low discreet whisper once the Madame had reached his side. Again, he received a nod of confirmation. "Good." He tried to disguise the way his tense body relaxed slightly at the news, reassured that he would not have to make any changes. "She will wreak havoc on the rebels. And our dear Peeta will wreak havoc on the Mockingjay."

"Indeed, sir." The Madame agreed with a smug smirk resting on her lips. "I have trained her well. She will not fail you."

President Snow glanced down at the woman with a sinister gleam in his eye as he softly muttered, "She had better not. Second chances are a rarity to come by."

The Madame shrunk in submission, knowing the man was referring to the last time she promised the Black Dahlia would not fail. A dark stain on her otherwise immaculate record. Head hung in shame for that unfortunate incidence, she replied, "I understand, President Snow. I appreciate your faith in me and my work. She will do her duty, I am sure."

Beady eyes analysing the woman, Snow seemed to be pleased by her compliance and hummed under his breath. "Make your final preparations. I must go see to our other Victors."

With that, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, taking a division of Peacekeepers with him for protection. The Madame motioned for the scientists and doctors to release the Black Dahlia from the machine before ushering them away as well. Then it was just the Madame and the Black Dahlia left in the chamber.

"You understand your final orders?" The Madame questioned sternly, circling the Black Dahlia as she stood to attention.

"Yes, Madame." The Black Dahlia answered robotically, no trace of emotion in her voice.

"You will carry out these orders until you succeed?" The Madame questioned from behind the girl, continuing her slow stalking walk around her.

"Or die trying, Madame." The Black Dahlia stated assertively, arms folded behind her back as she kept her stare fixed ahead.

"And what should you do once you encounter Finnick Odair?" The Madame's final question rang out as she appeared in front of the Black Dahlia. The girl fought hard to keep her expression neutral, hoping the Madame didn't notice the way her heart sped up at the name of a man she was conditioned to despise. A quiet voice buried deep in the back of her mind had been screaming that this was all a trick. An elaborate lie. But the Capitol and the Madame were the only things she could remember. So she didn't know what to believe.

"I will kill him." The Black Dahlia replied without hesitation, despite the reluctance she felt in her mind.

The Madame stared into the eyes of her creation, delighted to find nothing but darkness in them. Perfect. Nothing could stop the monster she had produced. For the first time in the long months the Black Dahlia could remember spending with the Madame, the stern woman managed to crack a tight-lipped smile. Albeit, a forced and rather unsettling one. But it was there. And the Black Dahlia felt that, for once, the Madame was proud of what she had become. Someone was proud of what she had become.

Nodding in triumph, proud only of her own achievement, the Madame declared, "You are ready." Then she gestured for the Black Dahlia to follow her from the room. "Come. Let us get you prepared."

The Madame escorted her little weapon all the way to the small prison cell of a room she had been given when she was first mind wiped. Over the months, the room had been modified to fit the living requirements of a deadly assassin. Numerous displays of weapons now littered the walls, positioned for easy access in case the Black Dahlia was swiftly called away on a mission. Her utility vest, black mask and a spare combat suit were hung up ready for possible use with an assortment of holsters scattered around. There was also a dagger concealed beneath the thin mattress which she'd stashed away in the event of a surprise attack.

As the two arrived at the dingy cell, the girl fully expected the Madame to leave her there and continue down the hall without another thought. She was a little confused when the woman followed in behind her but did not dare question her superior. Instead, she watched as the Madame brushed past her and plucked the utility vest from its place then held it out for the Black Dahlia to slip into.

Furrowing her eyebrows at the curious behaviour, the girl stepped forward and turned her back to slide her arms through the gap. Once the vest was all the way up to her shoulders, the Black Dahlia lifted her arms to tighten the straps only to have her hands slapped away by the Madame. The woman then secured the vest herself.

"This is your last mission." The Madame began sternly, her fingers tugging so harshly on the straps that the Black Dahlia's body would jerk with each pull. It felt like she was trying to stop the girl from breathing properly with how tight she was fastening the vest. The Madame finally averted her eyes to meet the Black Dahlia's as she continued, "And your most important one." The severity of the woman's manner only sunk in when she seized the Black Dahlia's cheeks with a bruising grip and pierced her nails into the skin. Eyes narrowed into a threatening glare, she sharply commanded, "Don't mess this up again."

With her jaw roughly squeezed between the woman's fingers, the Black Dahlia could only move her head a small amount to indicate that she understood. Then her head was lightly shoved back and the Madame sauntered past as if nothing had happened. The next moments were spent in tense silence while the Madame buckled various holsters to the girl's body and stuffed weapons into their places. The last item to be added to the masterpiece were the twin swords secured to her back.

Once the infamous look was completed, the Madame walked over to the metal bed and sank onto the mattress. "Sit, girl." She ordered half-heartedly, clicking her fingers at the girl to motion her over. The Black Dahlia obeyed like a trained animal, kneeling down on the floor with her back turned to the Madame. As the woman ran her fingers through the Black Dahlia's hair, scraping it back into its usual low bun, she suddenly declared, "You have been desperate to ask me something. Spit it out."

The Black Dahlia was taken aback by the woman's statement. She thought she had done a better job at hiding her eagerness to ask a question before she left on her last mission. But apparently not. The Madame always had been very skilled at seeing through a facade and, right now, she could see all the doubts swirling in the Black Dahlia's mind.

Throwing caution to the wind, the Black Dahlia spat out the question that had been plaguing her thoughts, "Why was my voice in the background of the rebel propaganda?"

The Madame briefly paused her movement, eyes flickering down to the girl before resuming the actions of smoothing out her hair. "I thought I told you," She replied smoothly, skirting around the real answer to the question. "Those rebels are desperate. They'll do anything they can to gain support for their doomed cause."

"So the audio was forged?" The Black Dahlia asked, unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed by the Madame's answer. "I was never part of the Rebellion? I never fought for them? Or..."

Or for someone else.

She trailed off before she could actually admit to the Madame that she thought she was fighting for a person. A person she had cared about once... Perhaps she still does. Maybe there's someone out there looking for her, waiting for her to come home.

But the Madame's motions grew more harsh, yanking the black strands of hair into a taut bun and securing it in place. "You fight for the Capitol." She responded sharply, resting her hands firmly on the Black Dahlia's shoulder with a rigid grip. "You are fighting against the Rebellion. You are not one of them. They have never accepted you and they never will."

Those words seemed so sure, so certain. But why did the Black Dahlia doubt their integrity? She wanted the truth and now she was getting it. There was no need for suspicion when the Capitol had been her home for as long as she could remember. She had killed for them, protected them, fought for them... So what was stopping her from believing it?

"Is that the truth?" The Black Dahlia questioned hesitantly, shuffling around to face the Madame as she awaits the verdict. She wants the woman to confirm her words, to solidify the claims that there was no one else she could rely on.

"Do you doubt me?" The Madame challenged, her eyes narrowed in warning. The Black Dahlia had no choice but to shake her head and back down from her pursuit of knowledge. "Creatures like you are hard to love. The rebels prefer noble characters like the Mockingjay to join their fight. So why would they want a monster in their ranks?" The Black Dahlia's head sank at the reminder of what she is, the reminder of why no one wanted her. Now it all made sense. "We took you in and showed you what love is." The Madame curled her fingers around the Black Dahlia's chin and forced her head up to meet her gaze. "This is what love is."

Love is pain.

Love is suffering.

Love is not love at all...

Love is hate.

The girl now fully convinced of the truth and questions all answered, the Madame rose to her feet and headed to the door. "Now, remember to leak the location of the Victors to the Rebellion and head over to the Tribute Centre immediately after." She commanded with a victorious smirk on her face. "I'm sure they'll quickly come running to save their friends. You must be there to greet them when they arrive."

"Yes, Madame." The Black Dahlia conceded dutifully after hopping to her feet.

"Do not fail me." The Madame instructed, her lip curling into a reproachful sneer as she paused in the doorway and turned to face the girl one last time. "And remember who you're fighting for."

I fight for the Capitol.