destruction can be beautiful;

Markus tuned out, fuming that once again his father was winning and once again Allegra was in danger of spending her life like her mother and uncle had, stuck under the thumb of a man who spoke with his fists rather then his words. He wouldn’t be able to get her back, and again he felt that sharp pain of failure as he realised he had failed them both. Again.  

“....and, with your recent stunt at the Chariot rides, your case for custody of Allegra is weak at best.” the lawyers latest statement brought him crashing back to reality, eyes lifting to the mans’ and watching him just shrink back from the mere ferocity to his glare. “What?” he hissed, voice low. He knew deep down that the dig at the games via his chariot outfit wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially with his act of being so pro games now. 

But he didn’t understand that, he’d done so much worse and help Titaniara gain control of the Capitol in the mean time. He’d given his life for this, and he finally lost control of the anger that was threatening to burst. He grabbed the man by the collars of his jacket, and pulling him forward “That was nothing--” he hissed, “You wanna see what I can really do?” 

Before Markus could act further, the door burst open and he dropped his gaze to where the lawyers shaking hand was repeatedly pressing a panic button he hadn’t noticed. Summoning the man’s security, who leapt on him as quick as possible in their attempt to stop him. “No, don’t touch me.” he spat, swinging a fist and trying to get away. One fist landed on the lawyer and knocked him back, as the security tackled him to the ground. One word he heard amongst their mumbles made his blood turn cold, peacekeepers. He couldn’t lash out much longer as everything went dark. 

When Markus came to, he was strapped to a whipping post, his chest bare. Peacekeepers stood either side of the post and one behind him, and an official walking slowly to the post. He didn’t know the man personally, only knowing off him and that he was a barrier between Titaniara and everyone else in the Capitol. He knew just by looking at him, he was done for. 

“Markus Devlin. For assault and threatening of a Capitol servant you have been sentenced to 30 lashes...” 

Markus’ scoff interrupted the man’s threat, “Is that it?” he replied with a scoff, eyeing the man with derision. The man remained quiet, features impassive as he merely waited for Markus to stop speaking before he continued. “However, the lashes shall be undertaken with the electrocutioner’s whip.” 

As he spoke, Markus heard the whip spark up behind him, held in the firm grasp of the Peacekeepers cold fingers. Markus looked back up from the whip to the official, “Titaniara--” he began, but the official held up a hand to stop him, “Signed the order herself.” the man cut in and lifted the paper upwards, and Markus’s eyes lifted on that familiar signature that he had memorised over the months of watching her sign orders. He swallowed, before biting out a muttered, “Just do it.” 

The first lash was nothing, and he bit down on his lip as his body convulsed against the shock through his body. With each one he bit down, blood filling his mouth as he tasted it’s coppery tones. He made it to fifteen, when a scream parted his lips and his knees began to buckle. He was vaguely aware of it being filmed the idea of people he cared about seeing this only momentarily passing through his thoughts as he began to lose consciousness, keeping himself awake only by counting each one, twenty eight, twenty nine.... 

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, his breathing becoming impossible as he was released from his bonds. He collapsed to the floor, as he caught the urgency in the man’s voice as he called for a medic. Voices, blurred faces surrounded him, and he felt that rising panic as the pain in his chest increased and he realised it was moving up his arm as well, the pain not noticeable before when he had been strapped up. 

He collapsed on the floor as everything began to blur, and a voice from the side began to talk to him. “Markus,” the voice was smooth, the nurse leaning over him, a woman he’d met on the field, “Markus I think you’re having a heart attack brought on by the shocks, we’re going to help you okay?” her voice betrayed the true gravity of the situation as she barked for help. “The shocks brought it on, you brought this on so you can get some damn help.” 

It was no good though, his skin turning grey as he rest his head back against the cold floor and the voices began to blur and mesh into one. Finally, his heart gave out and his muscles stiffened, before he relaxed, dark eyes staring unblinkingly up. Silence fell amongst the people surrounding his now still body, still stunned at what had happened. The official stared dumbly, as he looked at the nurse for explanation. “He has a history of drug use,” she reminded him, “That many lashes would do damage on the strongest of hearts, his was already weakened.”

“I’ll notify Titaniara. She’ll notify his family.” there was no emotion in the official’s voice as he took a step back from the body of Markus, and moved away. Within hours the news of Markus’s death had spread through the tower, and the man’s death was covered up as a heart attack brought on from a lifetime of drug abuse. The press release was official, saying all the right things, the taping of his lashings destroyed to cover up that it was the main cause of his death. 

Markus’s body was buried without a funeral, on a quiet day in the cemetery next to his sister’s body. His niece wasn’t allowed to attend, or even told that her uncle had passed, no one in the tower notified that the man had been buried.