It was no challenge in the least to kill of those pathetic dolts in the Career pack. Those kids were too idiotic to use the title of a Career, the title both her parents so rightly carried, as did their parents before her.
"Come on out, handsome!" she called from her vantage point atop the mouth of the Cornucopia. "I'm ready to get home!"
Enobaria reclined against the cool golden weave that made up the bountiful object. The sun was out, but this year's arena had been the usual forest with a field, lake, boring shit that happened every other year. She'd been hoping for something more interesting, like a winding hedge maze or abandoned mental asylum. But noooooooooo. She got damn trees.
Her hair fanned behind her head as she crossed her ankles, smiling slightly, the dark strands forming a soft halo, almost demonic in nature when compared to the glinting precious surface it rested upon.
Running a hand across the flawless metal, she began to think. It glittered beneath her fingertips like Cosette's hair. God, how she missed Cosette. Her sparring partner, friend, and, at one point, lover.
Not lover. Why did she keep saying that? Love was for the weak. Her mother had made that clear since she was in diapers. Rely on no one but yourself, because in the end, you'll just die with a knife in your back.
Where was he? She was getting tired of waiting. Eno sat up slightly, looking around, the dagger held loosely in her hand.
She screamed slightly as something yanked her off of the Cornicopia. Dammit. They'd probably released more of those python mutts again. Eno chunked a knife at the hand clutching her ankle as she fell.
Hand.
Looks like Handsome decided to come out and play.
The impact of the fall temporarily forced the breath from her lungs. She struggled to rise, bending her knees and kicking him backwards off of her. She succeeded, bracing herself against the inner wall of the Cornucopia, digging her hand into the netted metal. The boy (she struggled to remember his district, but failed to recall it) rose to his feet, pressing a hand to his bleeding temple. That metal was harder than it looked.
"I'm going to get you, you little bitch," he growled, limping quickly in her direction.
The dark-haired girl reached for her belt, expecting to connect with the familiar cold smoothness she had come to associate with the handles of her blades. Her heart fluttered when her fingertips touched nothing but air.
He was upon her now. She'd misguidedly gauged the severity of his previous wounds. Within moments, they were scuffling, rolling around desperately on the floor of the Cornucopia.
For the first time in her life, she realized as he held her to the ground, Enobaria was scared.
What was he going to do? Bash her head into a pulp? Slit her throat? Choke her until her mocha skin had turned blue? She didn't want to know. The girl struggled against him, but the boy was older, bulkier, more muscular, and was, at the moment, crushing her abdomen.
Tears filled her eyes. Frantic, hot, large tears. Tears she'd never been permitted to let flow in her previous life. The tears blurred her vision, smudging the fine lines, running the colors together. The boy faded from her vision and she only saw the shining gold of the metal weave above her.
Gold.
Cosette.
That night at the Training Center back home.
Pinned down.
Kissing.
Roaming hands.
Pleasure.
"Show me your teeth."
In an instant, something inside Enobaria snapped. A surge of energy pulsed through her, fierce and emotional. She could feel it burn through her.
The girl screamed, all of her rage at the world, at her mother, at the monster she'd let herself become. Enobaria flung herself upward, locking her eyes on the pulsing vein in the boy's neck, and sunk her teeth into it, yanking, tearing, screaming, until he fell against her body in a slack mass of limp muscle.
Years later, those god-awful people still called her name as she walked by. Dyed colors more vivid than a butterfly's wings, tattooed like the thugs in those old movies she loved. She'd flash them that smile, the one that said "I'm dangerous. I'm fierce. I'm one of you."
But the real reason she'd had her teeth filed down was so no one would ever ask her to show them her teeth again, at least, not in the manner Cosette had asked. The gold was a constant reminder that Cosette had, in essence, kept Enobaria fighting, and had saved her life. Now every night, she could fall asleep smiling, to ward off any of those pesky nightmares.
Because, let's face it. There's nothing more terrifying than a woman except a woman that has no problem tearing your throat out.