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for johanna
Feb. 12th, 2026 11:57 amcw: torture
--
Annie Cresta had been here since the trains left District 4 to bring Mags and Finnick back to the Arena. Collateral, was a word she had heard, and she knew what it meant, why they were taking her. Just in case. They needed Finnick and Mags to behave. They needed them to fight, 64 years after Mags first entered that arena, the very first volunteer. They needed to keep Annie where they could keep an eye on her.
But there was more to it, she learned quickly.
Something was going on. Something she had no idea about, having been kept in the dark by both Finnick and Mags. It reminded her of the way people had spoken in hushed tones around her after her Games, mentioning something about a bomb and the dam, but never telling her anything at all like she was too stupid, too traumatized to make heads or tales of a given situation.
At first, it hadn't been too terrible, aside from the PTSD that simply being in the Capitol brought about, particularly surrounded by those that identified themselves as doctors. She hated doctors, ever since they'd pulled her soaking-wet and exhausted out of that Arena. She didn't trust them. Didn't like the way they acted like they were better than everyone, smarter, and treated her like a child when the trauma from the Games had taken away her voice.
But things steadily got worse, and by the time the canon rang out to signify the start of the Third Quarter Quell, Annie Cresta had moved from questionings to interrogations to outright torture as they tried to get her to spill information that she didn't have. They didn't let up. The doctors seemed to take a perverse glee in making the mad victor scream, in causing her to regress, in doing whatever they could to hurt her.
When they weren't torturing her, they'd let her rot in a small white cell, her long hair tangled, her hospital gown dirtied. One meal a day, then a doctor coming to ask her if she had anything to share. She'd refuse, and they'd drag her down to their labs, and when that was over, throw her weakened body back in her cell to start it all over again.
Then, almost three weeks in, something changed. There were more whispers, louder this time. Something about the rebels, about the arena, something about an explosion and District 13. Something about Johanna. About Peeta. Names she knew. Names she recognized. Names that meant she wasn't alone. Someone here, they had to know what had happened in the Games. They had to know where Finnick was.
It takes a few days, but eventually, Annie figures out that they're keeping Johanna in the cell next to her. She waits, until the lights are lowered, and she thinks they're alone on the floor. "Jo-- johanna?" She calls to the wall, hoping her voice makes it through. "Johanna, it's Annie." Then, realizing that Johanna probably had no idea who she was (who remembered the mad Victor?) she added, "Annie Cresta."
--
Annie Cresta had been here since the trains left District 4 to bring Mags and Finnick back to the Arena. Collateral, was a word she had heard, and she knew what it meant, why they were taking her. Just in case. They needed Finnick and Mags to behave. They needed them to fight, 64 years after Mags first entered that arena, the very first volunteer. They needed to keep Annie where they could keep an eye on her.
But there was more to it, she learned quickly.
Something was going on. Something she had no idea about, having been kept in the dark by both Finnick and Mags. It reminded her of the way people had spoken in hushed tones around her after her Games, mentioning something about a bomb and the dam, but never telling her anything at all like she was too stupid, too traumatized to make heads or tales of a given situation.
At first, it hadn't been too terrible, aside from the PTSD that simply being in the Capitol brought about, particularly surrounded by those that identified themselves as doctors. She hated doctors, ever since they'd pulled her soaking-wet and exhausted out of that Arena. She didn't trust them. Didn't like the way they acted like they were better than everyone, smarter, and treated her like a child when the trauma from the Games had taken away her voice.
But things steadily got worse, and by the time the canon rang out to signify the start of the Third Quarter Quell, Annie Cresta had moved from questionings to interrogations to outright torture as they tried to get her to spill information that she didn't have. They didn't let up. The doctors seemed to take a perverse glee in making the mad victor scream, in causing her to regress, in doing whatever they could to hurt her.
When they weren't torturing her, they'd let her rot in a small white cell, her long hair tangled, her hospital gown dirtied. One meal a day, then a doctor coming to ask her if she had anything to share. She'd refuse, and they'd drag her down to their labs, and when that was over, throw her weakened body back in her cell to start it all over again.
Then, almost three weeks in, something changed. There were more whispers, louder this time. Something about the rebels, about the arena, something about an explosion and District 13. Something about Johanna. About Peeta. Names she knew. Names she recognized. Names that meant she wasn't alone. Someone here, they had to know what had happened in the Games. They had to know where Finnick was.
It takes a few days, but eventually, Annie figures out that they're keeping Johanna in the cell next to her. She waits, until the lights are lowered, and she thinks they're alone on the floor. "Jo-- johanna?" She calls to the wall, hoping her voice makes it through. "Johanna, it's Annie." Then, realizing that Johanna probably had no idea who she was (who remembered the mad Victor?) she added, "Annie Cresta."
