he's a cold heart killer

Red. Everywhere. Splattered all over the walls, across the paintings hung up in random areas around the living room - even on the white couch that Sierra Majors insisted they buy despite her husband telling her it wasn't a good idea. What usually was the cleanest house was now covered in blood, two different types from two different bodies.

Genevieve Majors looked around with a disgusted expression, carefully stepping around the dark pools that stained the white carpet flooring. Her breathing grew shaky, unsure of what to think of the sudden sight.

Her first thought was to call out for her mother or step-father, hoping one of them was around to explain what was happening, but deep down she knew by the sight of the house - something was wrong. She shouldn't even be walking further into the house, yet she was.

Stepping out of the living room and down the hall, she noticed a blood trail leading from where she previously stood and toward the bedrooms. The trail was uneven and back and forth, almost as if whatever caused it struggled to get away from the living room and to whichever room they went.

Making the sound of her footsteps as light as humanely possible, Genevieve carefully went until the blood trail stopped going straight, and led to where her parents' bedroom was. The door was shut, the blood stopping along with it except for some on the silver doorknob.

"M-mom?" She asked with a weak voice, her breathing uneven as she reached out for the doorknob. "Is- is everything okay?"

Ignoring the gross wet feeling of the blood, she turned the doorknob anyway. After one last breath, she gently pushed the bedroom door open.

The door made a loud creaking sound as it swung open, due to the house being an older model. This caught the attention of those who inhabited the bedroom on the other side of the door. Genevieve stared at the scene in shock, tears immediately filling her eyes as the feeling of bile rose up her throat.

"Oh-oh God," She muttered, putting a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from throwing up everywhere.

In the middle of the white and grey-themed room was more blood, much worse than what she'd seen in the living room. In front of the giant king-sized bed on the floor lay her mother, a giant pool of blood surrounding her; her blood.

Above her was a man - a man covered in just as much blood although he was very much alive compared to how her mother looked. He just held his hand over her mother's mouth to prevent her from making any noise, the sound of struggled breaths filling the spacious bedroom.

Genevieve couldn't move. She was frozen in shock, hand over mouth as tears fell down her cheeks. She watched as the giant man looked at her with a sick look, the frown that previously sat on his face turning into a sinister smile.

His big hand moved away from Sierra's mouth, the sounds growing loud and clear as she could finally breathe. "Genny, go!" She exclaimed with all the energy she could muster.

Genevieve didn't listen and instead watched as the man moved further away from her mother, the giant gashes in her stomach coming into view. Sierra had been stabbed time after time again, the insides of her body almost ready to spill out onto the floor at any given moment.

After seeing the young girl had no intentions of running away, the man in front of her put his attention back to her mother. He sent another sick smirk to Sierra before bringing the giant kitchen knife back to the woman, dragging it slowly across her throat.

A gag left Genevieve's mouth, bile rising as she watched the life leave her mother's eyes. Her mother was gone, and she did nothing. She didn't run, didn't call for help. She stood there, eyes wide, watching in horror as the knife slid across her skin with ease.

It wasn't until the man stood up that Genevieve broke out of her trance. He cocked his head from one side to another, popping his neck in the process as he looked at the short girl. She backed up slowly, her balance uneven as she slid across the blood. She slipped to the ground, sliding backward as her blood began to cover her body.

Her mother's blood.

"Genevieve!"

At the sound of her name - her true name - being called, the girl blinked a couple of times. She looked down at the sink - the sink that had red dye in it - her face growing hot as she realized she'd spaced out.

"You were already supposed to have the dye washed out, you know that right?" Her aunt asked as she walked further into the bathroom.

"Right," Genevieve mumbled, turning the sink on.

She hadn't intended to wait this long to wash it out and definitely didn't intend on reliving the most horrific day of her entire life. However, when the red dye dripped out of her hair and into the sink it was as if she time travelled back to when everything happened, two weeks ago to date.

The fifteen-year-old watched with lifeless eyes as she cleaned the sink out, her thoughts clouded by the events that changed her life forever.

"We've got to be at the airport in an hour and you're still not ready. Agent Forbes is going to lose it if he learns we're not on track and you know this." Christina continued to scold her niece. "I'll take care of this, you get in the shower."

Genevieve nodded, turning her attention away from the stained sink and toward the bathtub. She didn't say anything as her aunt continued on about what the plan was and where they'd be moving to first. 

"I can't believe out of any name in the world you could want, you'd choose Neve Mellark," Christina spoke as she scrubbed at the sink.

Genevieve didn't look at her aunt as she spoke and instead leaned over the tub, beginning to rinse the hair dye out of her hair.

"I mean seriously? It's such an obvious fake name anyone could tell it out. It's surprising they even accepted it." Christina said, turning the sink off.

"You chose Chris Mellark, you can't speak," Genevieve responded, turning her head only slightly.

"You chose the last name, I only really had a decision in choosing my first." Christina defended.

"And you chose your name just shortened. It's literally what I did, but nobody ever called me Neve the way you were already called Chris by a few people." Genevieve said. "Besides, I can just say I was named after Neve Campbell or something and got lucky to have Peeta Mellark's last name. Doubt anyone would question it."

"I suppose so," Christina said. She moved over to where Genevieve was crouched, beginning to help her scrub the hair dye from her roots. "The first thing we're doing when we get to Florida is having a girl's day, okay? We both need it."

Genevieve didn't say anything, knowing she didn't have a choice. This was her aunt's way of coping with the situation, and she didn't blame her for wanting to do something that didn't involve changing their identity.

Instead, she just listened to her aunt as she finished venting about whatever came to mind, the slight massage she got soothing her thoughts away from what happened that dreadful day.

"It's going to take a while of adjusting, but we're in this together. Okay?" Christina asked.

"I hope you're right," Genevieve mumbled, letting out a deep breath as the water was shut off.

"I do too."

++

I'm sorry if this was an icky way to end the prologue <3 Hope you enjoyed nonetheless