Chapter One: Painted

A/N: So...welcome to the third story of Elethea's journey! If you're new, welcome. You should probably read 'Dig Up The Bones' and 'Leave The Soul Alone' before you read this so you understand what's going on. If you're back, welcome! This story is going to be quite dark, as per the others.

This first chapter might come across a little confusing, Elethea is in a very fragile state of mind and that is definitely going to show.

As of yet, no, I have not seen Mockingjay. I am going in 2 days and that is why this chapter is quite short and only focuses on Elethea. I didn't want to risk doing anything from Finnick's POV before I saw the movie, but rest assured he'll be in next chapter ;)

Please review and let me know what you think :D

"I'm chasing all the lines of your skin

And all your pirouette mistakes

So dance until you're brand new

Ignore the fight inside that scares you."

- Painted, Evans Blue

Elethea's POV

If there was a before, I don't remember it.

My mind consists of pieces of a puzzle that haven't been put together. That's because some of the pieces are still missing. The full picture is right there, but I can't grasp it. All I can remember is loyalty. To District 4, to the Capitol. I do what I'm told. Obedience without question. Things that have been drilled into the fragments over and over again. Maybe, if I am obedient, I get more pieces. Maybe the puzzle will be put back together.

I remember faces. A beautiful man with eyes like the ocean, radiant as the sun. A girl with brown hair and hazel eyes full of pity, who stands in my doorway from time to time. Sometimes I think I remember their names, but it's reaching for something just above my head, held tauntingly just out of reach. There's one face I can put a name to: dark hair, cruel eyes. Hyperion Dormer.

"Elethea?"

A blonde man stands in my room. I remember his name, too. Gloss. His sister died in the Quarter Quell. I remember parts of that, but nothing solid. Flashes of things that might be dreams, or might be reality. It's hard to tell, so I don't try. I forget about the before, and I focus on the now. It's the only way to stay sane.

"What are you doing here?" I rasp, sitting up slowly. My head is pounding. Yesterday…what did I do yesterday? Oh that's right, I saw Peeta, and President Snow. More names and faces that I can remember. We're the loyal ones, Peeta and I. Snow was saying he was proud of us, that we've done a service to the Capitol. That we are to be commended.

"I was sent here."

"But why?" I ask, unable to understand. Gloss is usually kept in the cells below. He's a traitor. He isn't loyal. Hyperion's told me that, many times. He can't be trusted.

"For you," he says, and for some reason, shivers wriggle like worms down my spine. He steps closer, and I spring to my feet, Victor instincts kicking in. Why is Gloss here? What does he want? Who sent him?

He moves with surprising speed for a man of his size, grabbing me by the wrists hard enough to bruise. I cry out as he forces me against the wall, and I'm shaking because I don't understand. Ally or enemy? Real or fake? It hurts trying to think about it and I want to close my eyes, but I can't, because I don't know what will happen if I do.

"Gloss?" I choke out.

Something sparks in the depths of his eyes. Pity. "I'm sorry. I have to."

"What are you talking about?" I rasp. But Gloss doesn't have any more words for me, only actions. He reaches out, fisting his hands in my shirt and tugging hard so that it's ripped messily in two. I don't see his conflicted blue eyes, I see Hyperion's cruel ones there instead, and then I'm sobbing so hard that my frame is shaking with the force of it.

Because I understand. I understand, and it's sick.

Gloss tosses me so that I go spinning, hurtling across the room like a ballerina on ecstasy, hitting the edge of the bed and tumbling onto it. He follows, pressing down upon me, a heavy weight that makes me feel like I'm suffocating. I scratch and claw and kick. There are tears in Gloss's eyes as he pins my wrists with ease, reaching to flip up my skirt.

I scream. The descent begins and my sanity is shattered like a mirror.

Again.

I wake up later and everything is a haze. I don't remember things clearly, but the bruises on my wrists and thighs are evidence enough. I start shaking as some of the puzzle pieces slide into place and all I can think of is: why? Why would he do that to me? Bile rises in my throat and I just manage to make it to the bathroom before I vomit in the toilet. I try so hard not to cry, but there's a lump in my throat and my eyes are stinging with the tears I won't let myself shed.

I crumple to my knees and curl up in a ball. Have I done something, to deserve this kind of punishment? I've killed people in my time, but that was for survival. It's nothing no other Victor has done. I know that it wasn't Gloss, but at the same time it was. The face of the man I gave my virginity to haunts me when I screw my eyes shut. I blurt out a sob and press my face into my hands.

Footsteps make me look up and I see Hyperion leaning in the doorway. There's a sympathetic expression on his face, but those eyes are cold, taunting. As if I'm meant to have learned some kind of twisted lesson from this.

Who do you belong to?

But I don't belong to anyone. Or if I did, it would be Finnick Odair. Finnick, who's so far away, wherever he is. I hope he's safe. I don't begrudge him his safety. Maybe he'll come looking for me. Maybe he can't. Until he finds me, I'm stuck here, with the monsters inside my head and the monsters who don the masks of humans.

"He hurt you, didn't he, sweet Elethea?" Hyperion asks, but I don't reply. I stay curled up on the cold tiles because maybe if I ignore him, he'll leave me alone. Instead he kneels in front of me, catching my chin and making me look at him. "Now you see that the Capitol can make a beast of anyone. We did it to him, we could do it to you. To your precious Finnick, when we get him."

"No!" I scream, lashing out with fists and nails and batting him away from me. They've already made me a monster. They won't do the same to Finnick. I won't let them. Hyperion easily grabs my wrists, hurling me to the floor. I don't even attempt to try again. Instead I clutch my knees to my chest and hold back tears, ignoring the burning in my eyes and my throat.

Who do you belong to?

The Capitol.

But he never will. Not Finnick.