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As she stands on a podium in District Twelve, Enobaria Rodriguez is sure she is seeing a glimpse of hell.
Many of the rituals of old religion remained in the Districts, especially Two, but believing in anything greater than the Capitol is extremely illegal. Not that it truly stopped most of the followers. Enobaria's grandmother had been one of those and had always whispered the stories of the gods to Enobaria as she fell asleep.
Hell wasn't a topic for bedtime stories. That was only reserved for her grandmother's angriest rants about Capitolites. Enobaria didn't like to think about those and she never talked about it with anyone. But she remembers the mental picture vividly, and it looks like District Twelve. Smoke and ash hang in the air. All of the buildings are practically coated in soot and coal dust. Every person has dull, empty eyes. Enobaria has seen people this sad. She's never seen people this defeated. No wonder they never stand a chance in the Games.
Enobaria hopes she never has to come back here.
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District Eleven isn't better, just angrier.
They look at Enobaria like she is a monster and a demon and she can't deny that they are most likely right. She is a monster, she thinks, as she flashes a smile with sharp golden teeth, and she is a demon as she stares straight ahead while the family of a girl she murdered weeps.
She is going to be ripped to pieces right here on the stage and she will deserve it.
When the time comes for a speech, she can't make a single word come out of her throat
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Enobaria does a lot better in District Ten.
They're quiet and seem normal. They look like they could almost be from Two. The victors are welcoming enough. Lyme is fairly good friends with Alicia despite the age difference.
She almost wishes she could stay. But each district brings her a little closer to home. She just has to make it that long.
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Lyme hates District Nine.
She's tense on the whole train ride over but no matter how many times Enobaria asks, she doesn't bother to explain.
Once they're there, she doesn't talk to any of the other victors and looks almost out of it. That's definitely strange. Lyme is even fairly outgoing. It's disturbing, seeing her hard as stone mentor so fazed. It only gets worse at the dinner. Lyme doesn't eat anything. Enobaria's frustrated. Lyme lectures her for hours about how she needs to talk to people and eat something, even if she can't stand the taste of meat anymore.
She's being a hypocrite. But it's also true that Enobaria is pretty sure that she does not want to know exactly what memories Lyme associates with District Nine.
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District Eight is almost as bad as Eleven.
Eleven's anger was practically boiling over as they watched her on the stage but Eight's anger is still simmering under the surface. The mayor gives a toast to her during the dinner, practically spitting every word.
Lyme looks like she's going to throttle him. Enobaria wants him to burn in hell. But is she just as bad as they think she is for wanting that? That's a road she doesn't want to go down.
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There's a joke in Career districts about District Seven.
Almost every vicious and monstrous tribute has been from Seven. Of course, you'll get the occasional coward and sniveling kid. But when Seven kills, they kill. The Careers have a code of conduct at least. At least they have rules!
Seven looks like the kind of district that would produce monsters. They're strong and confident and apathetic. Enobaria wouldn't ever admit that they scared her a little but she has watched the recaps and heard the stories. These people were far more like the psychos she'd expected than the Bloodbath bait in her own games. It had been almost a bit disappointing. She still wished they had been a little more evil.
If there had been another monster, someone worse, maybe everyone wouldn't hate her so much.
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Enobaria knew District Six was going to be the hardest.
Six had been so close to getting its fourth victor and she had ripped out Miles' throat. Enobaria had watched the recap. It had a long shot of her face, flesh stuck in her teeth and blood dripping down her own throat. It had been disgusting and repulsive and monstrous.
She could feel one of Six's victors glaring at her as she eats bland tasting food. She doesn't remember her name. It's the younger one, the one who won within Enobaria's lifetime. She goes up to Enobaria after they're done eating. She looks like she's about to say something but Enobaria beats her to it.
She leans in and softly whispers, "Would you like to know what it felt like to rip his throat out?" The other victor recoils but avoids her for the rest of the night. Enobaria is almost proud of herself.
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She always wanted to visit District Five.
Her grandmother had been there once, before the Dark Days, and from what Enobaria had heard, from stories and the kind of rumors that loyal Careers don't listen to, Five was one place that kept traditions from the before times. It fascinates Enobaria, especially considering that Five is one of the most loyal districts that isn't a Career
She doesn't have any opportunity to ask about their culture though. It's normal and quiet. Enobaria hates to admit it but she's almost bored. She can even feel herself drifting off during the banquet.
It's fine. Even animals sleep.
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By the time she gets to District Four, she just wants the whole tour to be over.
She's finally reached a Career district, it just took her eight days.
Four's victors are all interesting and while they talk to her normally enough, there is an edge to their voices. An edge like disgust. She is a Career just like them. But she's a monster and everyone thinks she's gross. She's not pretty and she doesn't kill elegantly, not like Four or One.
Mags, the old lady, the one who started the Career program with Cassius, she tries to talk to Enobaria at one point. Enobaria can't even remember what she said. But she knows exactly what emotion she saw in the old woman's eyes. Pity.
And that is the worst part.
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Enobaria didn't quite expect the victors of District Three.
Beetee Latier holds out a hand and introduces himself. He's acting nicer than just about any of the other victors she's met. He doesn't talk too much, just enough to fill the quiet space. Enobaria should probably be grateful but she can't shake the feeling that he's reading her like a book. It scares her. And she isn't sure why.
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The train ride to District One is by far the worse.
She is so close to home, so close, they're passing by. To District One.
One's bitter. They always are. Victors and civilians alike look at her with something akin to hatred. It's pathetic. They got a new victor last year but there's still an edge of jealousy to every compliment. Then again, One's new victor doesn't look like much anyway. Just another pretty face.
That helps, knowing she's better as she stands on a podium. She even gives her first genuine smile since she got her teeth.
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It only takes one day in the Capitol for Enobaria to doubt every bit of loyalty she has held.
The people are arrogant and they laugh and they think her new teeth are wonderful. Enobaria thought there was nothing worse than the anger and hatred from the Districts. She was so very wrong.
In the Capitol, they love her and her final kill is all they want to talk about. She can't even tell them to stop. So, she smiles with her fangs and pretends that she likes being the monster.
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District Two is home and yet it isn't.
Enobaria was sure every part of her would click into place once she was back but it isn't. She's still a monster. She's still just as bad. She still feels seen and judged. But now there's nowhere to go. She's trapped. For eternity.