When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it’s because I must look stunning. Then I notice something is rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flickery stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stage. Somehow I’m afraid to stop because my flesh doesn’t seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second, I’m gasping, completely engulfed in strange flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone.
Catching Fire concept art
The deal was that, if I win The Hunger Games, I get to live the rest of my life in peace. But now you wanna kill me again. Well, you know what? Fuck that! And fuck everybody that had anything to do with it!
comic © me
satan © himself
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