Some of the characters and plot may be similar to something in another story, (Which may or may not be here http://hungerlive.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:Haymitch_Abernathy/Whirlpool) but this is intentional. Because it's mine. The following story is a rewrite, because the first, in my opinion, could have been better.
The Darkness is perfection, by it's very definition.
When you look into the Light, you see mistakes; when you look into the Dark, you see nothing.
When you stand in the Light, your mistakes can be seen; when you stand in the Dark, nothing can see you.
When you walk in the Light, what you see of the world is forced upon you; when you walk in the Dark, what you see of the world is whatever you imagine it to be.
When you walk the path of the Light, you must see the truth; when you walk the path of the Dark, you can ignore it all.
The Darkness is perfection.
This is how it feels to be Octavian Caesari;
You know, deep inside, that you are great. Not the ink that is written upon a piece of paper, with a meaningless exclamation point at it's end, but truly great. Like the old Empire. Honorable. Destined for greatness. Perfection. The Empire, as perfect in your mind as you are in the minds of others, has been put upon a pedestal and will never fall from it.
You, you believe, deserve everything that the Three have given you. Power. Wealth. Wisdom. To name a few gifts.
The power you have accumulated over the years from an almost fanatical personal military. You call them the Legion, and so does everyone else. To you, they embody the glory of the Empire. They fight with honor, something you have taught them to do. They enforce the laws that the Capitol is too weak to enforce. They worship you, and, even though you have never admitted it, you enjoy it. But the Darkness always knows.
The wealth you have earned by monopolizing every product that comes out of District Four. You have done it by putting anyone who is willing to work to work. You have massive warehouses that are human assembly lines. The people inside are happy, because they get paid. You are happy because you reap what they have sown. Those outside of your shadow, know that you are manipulating them for your own purposes, which you don't even know yet. But the Darkness always knows.
The wisdom you stole from your mentor. You have no memory of life before him, only after. He took you in when you were an infant, and raised you until you were five years old, and could see that he had been charmed by the snake that follows every man; greed. He would have used you, worked you to the bone, just so that he could live in luxury on the tower of money you would have built him. So you planted a bomb in his house and ran. You never told anyone. But the Darkness always knows.
You have these granted gifts. You have always planned to use them for the good of your subjects.
Subjects. Even if you don't call them by that name now, deep down, you know you will. One day.
The Darkness always knows.