The Executioner

Stone stood his ground, watching the young woman struggle in front of him. He was enjoying it, even if deep down, something within him was snapping at him, screaming, telling him to stop. That side of him wasn’t supposed to be there, however, and so he continued to push on, continued to enjoy the pain the was inflicting. There was blood everywhere, blood on her clothes and blood on his clothes, but it wasn’t his, and so Stone continued to push on.

But then, it was over almost too soon for his liking. The finger, that was barely holding onto Olive’s body, was now in his and. The ring was still on it, but Stone barely paid attention. He was the Executioner, his job was to kill, to maim and to hurt, and he was doing just that. A finger wasn’t the worst thing he had seen.

.

“I wish I could have met her.” She’d spent the 123rd more invested than she’d ever allowed herself to be, even sending money for the first time toward Darby’s sponsorship. “You should have had the chance to know her.” She should have had the chance too. She kept her distance still, watching Stone cautiously. Despite the heartbreak clear in his expression, she couldn’t bring herself to readily offer proper condolences, even an empty ‘I’m sorry.’ What had Stone expected? His actions had gotten their parents killed. Then it got his daughter killed. If she wasn’t careful, it would get her killed too.

“She was perfect.” Stone spoke, falling silent again at her next words. He should have had a chance to his own daughter. But who could he really blame if not himself? He could’ve blamed Darby’s mother, a woman he didn’t even remember, but what if she was just protecting Darby from the burden that being a Victor’s child was? He could have blamed the Capitol for not telling him any sooner, but then again, it was his responsibility to know. It was his responsibility to make sure no one was abandoned. And at the age of fifteen, it was his responsibility to make sure his parents and his sister would live. All of it hurt like nothing else, more so than the light shocks his mechanic eye was sending down his spine. Clenching his jaw, Stone took a step back from Misty, and then another. The pain was overwhelming.  Destructive eyes were on him. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his hands twitching as if to do something before he finally walked away. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t take this away from him.

.

Misty tried to puzzle together what that might mean. So he did remember the conversation? Or was he only able to make the connection that somehow they were intertwined? At the mention of Darby’s token, her brow furrowed with sorrow. She wished desperately she could have known her niece. Despite her tiny stature, she saw so much of their mother in her, things she hadn’t realized she’d forgotten. “I know,” she said, softer this time. “I recognized it.”

She recognized the ring, and that was more than enough for Stone even in the situation that he was in. Still, he kept his eyes looking straight ahead, at nothing in particular, as if looking at her would trigger something and drag him out of these moments of limited freedom. Nevertheless, he wanted to look at her, he wanted that confirmation, and he needed answers, even if they’d be taken away from him after another session. “She was strong. And so brave.” He spoke, his voice cracking. It felt like he hadn’t used it in months. “But I lost her.” Stone paused again, but then finally lowered his arm, letting Misty go should she want to. “I lost all of you.”

“Fuck you!” His hands balled into fists, he had to do everything he could not to punch him because whatever was going on with him, whatever his current damage was, he couldn’t speak about Alder like that, it wasn’t right. "What the fuck is your issue, what’s your damage? I’m sorry your daughter died but you can’t take that shit out on Alder, he’s a good fucking person!” A fight with Stone wasn’t one he’d win. And he couldn’t afford another injury nor a public fight. Maybe a year ago, two years ago, he’d have punched him without consideration of the consequences, but these consequences could alter things for him with Alder, with Seven.

“Is that all you want to say?” Stone kept on pushing the young man. It was entertaining to see him get so angry, even if the words he was saying wasn’t something he would have ever used. Alder was someone Stone considered to be close to him- or used to consider him that, at least. This version of him barely ever cared. “If he was, you wouldn’t need to be defending him every time he was indirectly brought up. Tell me, are you overcompensating, Maverick? Or are you trying to find ways to get yourself as disconnected from him as possible?”

“You couldn’t do shit without them giving the orders,” she said. “You-” she cut off when she felt the pressure of the blade against her own skin. The tip had slid down behind her Black Eagles ring and was digging into her middle finger. She pushed back against it, but Stone was stronger than her and she couldn’t slide away from him. Blood rolled down to her fingertips and then dropped to the floor. Slow at first and then faster. Faster. It was a stream. Her face drew tight from the pain as she grabbed his wrist, as she tried to aim a knee to his balls. He was too close. She had very little leverage. “Stone -”

"I can do whatever I want.” Stone repeated the same thing he was told to say. It was repeated to him over and over until it was engraved in his mind, and he had no other option. He felt Olive’s blood drip down, and it was enough to fuel his rage, to fuel his thirst for violence that had been ingrained within him. He felt her try to hurt him, but it wasn’t enough, and so his free hand went up to her throat. “What? Is that all you’ve got to say?” He tauned her, but his fake eye was going crazy, sending one jolt of electricity after another to keep him in check. Something within him was protesting like never before. But he pushed away, and, instead, shifted so that he could bring her injured hand up for him to see. “Wouldn’t be ironic if these silly symbols would end up hurting those who carry them?”

Luca turned to look at Persephone again. “I think she definitely does, I mean, she seems to have herself together, for a seventeen year old, right?”

Following the man’s gaze, Stone looked over at the newest Victor. “She’s new and flashy so far. Trained well. It’ll be a different story next year.”

Phoenix tilted her head and waved over a bartender. “A drink it is. That’ll narrow down the competition.” She turned to the bartender. “A whiskey. Double.” A few moments later, the drink was placed on the bar countertop. 

“As if there’s really any.” Stone commented, motioning for the bartender to get him the same. Once the drinks were there, he didn’t waste any time downing half of his glass. “Is that how you’re planning to spend your evening? WIth a drink at the bar?”

.

She was stopped by his arm so abruptly a strawberry slid off the plate and dropped to the floor. Her eyes snapped back to his, flashing dangerously. “First of all, do not touch me again,” she warned in a low voice, pushing his arm away. His voice had changed into something more vulnerable, though, even his eyes (eye?) had softened, so she didn’t walk away immediately as planned. “You really don’t remember threatening me in a viewing room three months ago?” 

I’ll do whatever I want, Stone was required to say, but only a low growl came out of his mouth as she warned him. He was supposed to be intimidating, he was required to be just that, but there was something off, and he pushed away the pain that the eye was causing to keep him in line. “I remember.” He spoke slowly, as if trying to collect his words- they were hard to say, like his mouth wasn’t his, like his whole body was another being. Something was pushing him to talk, that familiarity he could not shake off no matter what. “I gave Darby mother’s ring.” He said, not lowering his arm, as if he would slip away if she was to walk away. “She was supposed to return.”

She went backward, hand tightening on the hilt of Silver’s dagger. The idea that she was in real danger here didn’t fully cross her mind. Stone was in there. She’d glimpsed it when she mentioned Darby. But at the mention of him harming someone she cared about, her felt the blood rushing toward her head. “That’s a coward’s move,” she told him. This close she had to tilt her head back far to look him in the eye. She pushed further despite the alarm bells in her ear. If it was pain that broke through then she’d give it to him. She let the dagger slip slightly out, ready. “Same damn move the capitol gave you right? When they killed your parents. Your sister. And now what? You sit when they ask you to? You fetch their toys?”

Lowering his hand, Stone moved it on Olive’s hand that was holding the dagger. Something deep down was resisting it, but Stone was fresh off the table, having had endured plenty of sessions to make sure that his mind was as ready to comply orders as possible. “And yet it’s working, isn’t it? You could lose the very few people that you’ve got left. No one else would miss them but you.” He didn’t break the eye contact, moving his hand on the dagger so it would press more against her, even if it sliced at his hands the slightest. “I was in the wrong.” he repeated the same thing he was required to say over and over again. He said it a million times until it was made to sound believable, and even then, Stone couldn’t really believe it. “I could just rip your tongue out too. Save everyone the headache.”

He stepped forward and on instinct, Olive’s hand went to the weapon she’d concealed. Stone was over a foot taller than her, had at least a hundred pounds on her. Her hand closed over the hilt, her Black Eagles ring clicking as metal touched metal. But as he grew angrier, she forced herself to stay calm, to keep her composure. Her temper always seemed to be under the surface but she’d learned a lot through her training on how to keep that below a boil. “I won’t,” is all she said. “Come on, try to scare me away. It won’t work.”

He saw the way her hand moved to something that she clearly had- his fake eye was designed to catch way more than that- and Stone moved on instinct, walking towards her until her back would be against the wall. “It doesn’t take me much to scare you. I know you.” He spoke calmly, sadistically almost. “I know who you care about. I know who you’d hate to see gone.” Stone continued to taunt her. “And you know I can just sweep in and do whatever I want.”

“Years?” Her eyebrow rose. She didn’t claim to know anything about how they’d so firmly warped him, but she knew something like this couldn’t last. It’d cannibalize him if that happened. “You know that’s not true.”

She could remember sitting with him before her training presentation, remember traveling with him during her victor’s tour, he was a landmark in her life. So much had fallen away since those first years. She’d loaded the gun on some of them, forced others out. She knew how loss could scoop out your very core, but she also knew that you still existed on afterward. So she stood there and didn’t turn around. “You think Darby was your last bit of family but your wrong okay? I’m still fucking here. Alder’s here. Addy. Just take off your damn collar.”

“It’s not up to you to decide that.” Stone pointed out strictly, this time being the one to step closer to Olive. While he had been in a good mood due to her nervousness, it was quick to disappear. “I’m doing as I’m required. You should reconsider your own actions.”

At the mention of Darby, however, a growl escaped his lips. It was involuntary, he wasn’t supposed to slip up, but there was something raw when it came to Darby that nothing could fully control. “No family exists in this place. You should know that.” He spoke, unreasonable anger growing within him. The fake blue eye, that had replaced the fake brown one, focused on her, and a wave of shock ran through Stone to keep him in check. “Quit that bullshit, Blackwell. What the hell are you here for? To bring me back? There’s nothing to be brought back or changed. Get the fuck over it.”

“You appear a bit desperate to spread a bad mood,” she countered, dryly. “Have another drink, lighten up. Maybe dance with someone who has an ugly dress.”

“If I was desperate, I would be in a mood far worse.” Stone responded, not bothered by her statement. She wasn’t required to be on his radar. “That doesn’t exactly narrow down the choice from the masses of people here.”

“No,” he snapped, feeling that the man was just trying to get a rise out of him, and yet, it was working. “I react quickly because you’re supposed to fucking care about him, too, you used to care about him. I still do.”

“Just for now, aren’t you?” Stone kept on pushing him. Even if Maverick was right, that Stone cared about Alder, he couldn’t tell that. Not when his mind was wiped and locked away from him. “But you know I’m right. The boy’s a mess and it’s a miracle he got out of the Games. There won’t be long before someone fix that issue.”

.

For a moment, Misty only replied in an indignant sound and a small head shake of disbelief. Was this some kind of joke? Was he as ashamed of her as she was of him? But then why demand her identity, her motivations instead of simply walking away?

And yet, it seemed sincere. The medical part of her mind flicked through the series of possibilities, always in search of a diagnosis for the things she didn’t understand. Psychological trauma was, of course, a leading theory, but to not remember any of their prior exchanges was extreme. Though not impossible.  She wondered suddenly if he remembered her at all, and not just now, from before, too. Their parents. His daughter. Her niece. 

But what would reminding him accomplish when he didn’t want to remember? “You should work on your manners,” she said coolly, rather than the thousand other things she wanted to scream at him, then moved to walk past him. It seemed he was always in her way.

“Do not tell me what to do.” Stone snapped at her strictly, yet that seemed to fade away almost immediately as she moved to walk past him. Without wasting a second, he extended his arm out, wanting to prevent her from walking away. There was so much confusion there, and yet, she was so familiar, to a point where it bugged him like nothing else. Why was she so familiar? Why did he have this urge to talk to her, to seek her out?

And yet, deep down, it was like he knew the answer, yet he couldn’t reach it. Something was stopping him, and he wasn’t sure whether it was him or whether it was someone else.

“Don’t go.” He asked her quietly, his voice a stark contract to the way it was just moments ago. “Why do I feel like I know you?” Stone insisted again, his voice quieter, as if there were ears everywhere in the ballroom. There most likely were; there were eyes on him at all times. “Tell me.” And then his voice fell again, almost to a whisper- but a sincere one. “Please.”

She was nervous standing there with him alone, but she hadn’t come unarmed. One of Silver’s daggers was hidden under her long sleeves. Insurance. That’s how she’d thought about it. She twirled the Black Eagles ring around her middle finger, the only outward sign that she was feeling anything besides disdain.

“You’re still just a dude.” She stood a little straighter at his question stepping closer. “I came looking for you. Fucking hell man it’s been almost a year now. You need to come back. They’ve turned you into their bitch.”

A smile slowly crept up on Stone’s face, but it wasn’t a happy or a warm one. He could tell she was nervous just by the way she was standing there, and that alone was entertaining. Fear was what he was supposed to create, and he loved anything that got close to it. While his eyes darted to the ring that seemed to constantly be on her finger, his focus went back to her face.

He stood his ground as she stepped closer, rolling his shoulders instead as he observed her. “And there are many more years to come.” He stated, only to frown in the end. “None of this is your concern. If you’re here to taunt me, I give you a single warning to turn around and leave.”