Arena, Early Morning, Day Nine. Part II.
Seren Dobrana, 18 years, District Two Female
I hit the water so hard there's no other thought in my mind.
If jumping in the first time was bad, this is worse. It was double the height, and the water's so cold now I wouldn't be surprised if a chunk of ice floated past me. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins, the breath in your throat. It's all I can do just to keep myself moving. Pieces of broken furniture swirl past my face, barely visible, but somehow I can still see light.
I break the surface, drawing in a huge breath like that will be enough to chase away the ice crystals I'm probably imagining in my throat. It doesn't feel any nicer being above water.
There's no mutts, though. So I guess that's a plus.
I squint upwards, against the sun, but I can't see anything. No Duke. No Rover. It's a few hundred feet to climb. If Rover did it, so can I. He also wasn't soaked to the bone and freezing, but that shouldn't matter when we're talking about me versus him.
I just need to start climbing.
I swim my way over to the side of the ship, shoving broken chairs out of my way, and reach for the nearest railing. It's the same side Rover climbed up, which means it's more than do-able. I get the best grip I can on it with my numb fingers and haul myself up and out of the water. I crouch there for a long moment, looping my arms through the railings, and rest my forehead against it.
I'm okay. I'm really okay. I feel like everything inside me just got completely rattled, but it could've been worse. At least I'm alive.
Boom.
I take a deep breath. I just don't know if Duke is.
He should have survived. Obviously. But I've long learned not to take things for how they appear. Rover could have killed Duke. There's nothing to suggest he couldn't have, even if it was just a stroke of luck. And if he did, I need to prepare myself for that. I just don't know how. This is probably why the best Careers know not to get attached. It's ten times harder to keep going after you are.
I probably look pathetic, crouched down and shaking, clinging to the railings like I'm a drowned rat. My hands really are numb, the barest brush of wind hurts my face and water is still pouring out of my boots at every moment. When I said it, though, I wasn't lying. I'm still not through. The sea will not be my grave.
I start climbing.
The ship is sinking more rapidly, now, like the water's chasing me upwards. The faster I climb, the more feeling that returns to my hands. My swords are still intact, hanging off my back, by some form of a miracle.
One more foot, one more hand up. Closer to victory, or more heartbreak? I can't tell if the pit in my stomach is just from the general state of things, or because it's trying to warn me. I didn't feel anything, before Kal and Meritt went. There was no warning, no second of eerie silence before the explosion. One second I was standing there, waiting for things to change, and the next I knew all hope of anything changing had been thrown out the window.
I'm almost back to the top, though, so does it really matter? I don't know how long I've been climbing, but it took longer than I would have liked regardless. I still can't see anyone. No Duke to help me back up, and no Rover to see if I'm ascending.
I grab the last section of railing in front of me and pull myself back onto the bow, almost underestimating just how slick with water it still is and slipping right back down. I stay on my hands and knees, breathing hard, trying not to shake. The wetsuit is doing it's job, but it can't save me from the feeling of the water permanently.
I look up, the sun nearly blinding me as it strikes off the metal hull, and there's just so much blood.
It wouldn't make sense to a stranger's eyes, and it barely does to me. The carnage is less than twenty feet away and it just doesn't.
Half a body, the rest hidden from view. A figure, cross-legged and hunched over, just as drenched in blood as the rest of the scene. The only thing that seems to permeate through my brain is that the feeling deep in my gut was right.
Because Duke's dead.
And even with that thought, there's still nothing in my head that will work to explain it.
Rover sits, still as stone, in a mess of blood that's easily more Duke's than his own. If he heard me scramble up behind him, he doesn't show any signs of it. He doesn't turn his head to look me in the eye.
Maybe he can't. It's the same way I keep my eyes focused on the back of his head because I can't look at what's in front of him. If I do, if I really take it all in, I'll break down, and he doesn't deserve that satisfaction.
The only thing he deserves, at this point, is death. But cutting his head off won't help me. Just like killing Duke didn't help him.
He knows that. I know that. And I'll still take him down with me if I have to.
Rover Morgan, 17 years, District Eight Male
I hear her, but I don't bother moving.
I can't say I've ever related to a computer in my life, but I feel like that blue screen in the web center before the map popped up. Nothing happening, just blankness, a glow that never ended but never did anything of importance either.
Something was always trying to happen underneath, but nothing ever did. Not unless someone made it.
And there's nothing to make me move.
I listen to the sounds of her rising to her feet, slipping for only a heartbeat before she rises up fully. As long as she has a weapon, she could kill me. There's no nerves bubbling up into my stomach. Oddly enough, I'm not afraid at all.
She lets out a low, bitter laugh. It's nothing like the deranged sound I would expect from a Career whose last remaining ally is lying dead by my feet. It's something like resigned acceptance, like she should've known she would end up here. Maybe not in this exact position, with me just sitting here and waiting for it, but here nonetheless. All of her allies dead, her the last one standing.
Possibly facing her last day on this earth. Not from me, though. The one purpose I thought I had left in this is over, completely finished, and with its drained out everything that was left in me.
It's completely muscle memory, then. She approaches me, with no force, and I put my hand on her arm before she can do anything about it, barely look at her over my shoulder. She stops, feet nearly nudging me in the back, and stares. Stares at the way my fingers lock around her wrist, leaving behind bloody stains. What's left of my fingers, anyway. There's no shock in her eyes. In fact, what's in her eyes is almost exactly what I feel on the inside.
There's no words, for that lack of a feeling. There's no glass half full to find in this scenario. I don't think I can let go, though. She's the last human point of contact I have left, the only thing that's reminding me that I have a heart still working somewhere.
She'll have to pry what's left of my own humanity off her skin.
"You think I won't hesitate to take you down with me?" She asks. She could probably yank me off, but she doesn't want to. Pushing me off the edge, not even getting to watch me drown, that's nothing in comparison to what she's had to witness.
And she doesn't plan on letting me go that easily.
She puts the sword back in its sheath, emptying her free hand. Her feet find the railings, bracing herself on them so she doesn't slip like the first time. She stares down at me, still kneeling in the pool of blood. She moves her foot again and I slide an inch closer to the railing, following her momentum. She locks her other hand on top of my own, and it's in that moment that I realize she really isn't going to let me go.
Her heel backs up off the railing, and she's so close now, so close to falling yet again, but this time it's on her own terms.
This time I'm going to fall with her, and that's exactly what she wants.
I watch like I'm already floating above my own body as she hurls herself back off the railings, and in one swift motion I'm pulled off after her. My feet squeak against the ground, mussing up the blood pooled around us, and then there's nothing left but air.
It's cool and it's nice, and there's no tainted smell of blood surrounding me.
We crash into the water so violently, so suddenly, that I completely forget to hold onto her. I'm surprised when she lets go of me, too easily, and my arms are too busy flailing around in the water, trying to find something. There's already water in my lungs, my mouth struggling to stay closed through the panic. But this is what I deserve.
Her hands lock around my throat, and my eyes are burning too much from the salt to even see, but my windpipe is getting crushed beneath her hands and there's water flooding down my throat and I really can't breathe. There's debris, floating around us, knocking into my legs and my back and my head, and somehow she's fine. Of course she's fine.
The pressure on my throat is building. I don't even know how long we've been under, but it feels long. Too long. Her hands leave my neck, and then I see a knife, slashing down towards my chest, just to make sure. She's not taking any chances. A milky cloud of blood drifts though the darkened water in front of me, the water taking over my chest and the last thing I see is her legs, kicking away from me. The knife falls past me, disappearing towards the bottom of the ocean. Not like I would try to grab it anyway.
She needs air. That's why she finally gave up. I don't have any left. I can't get to the surface and I'm not drowning fast enough and everything inside me feels like a bomb, ready to explode.
It's so dark, this far down. It's like there's nothing for miles. Nothing to affect me, nothing to tell me how wrong I am, how unnatural. Nothing that will hurt me, ever again.
It's not so bad.
Sinora Floyd, 16 years, District Eleven Female
I watched both of them fall.
I could've climbed up in an attempt to meet them, but there was no point. Exhausting myself when they were doomed to fall wasn't going to help. My hands are still blistered and red from sticking them straight through the fire and I can barely hold onto my scythe as is. No point in climbing like that.
They fell, tangled, into the water maybe twenty feet away. I'm mere inches away from the water myself, standing on the last wall I can possibly stand on to keep myself away from it. It's a good vantage point to watch. As long as we don't start sinking faster, I'm not in any danger.
Metaphorically. I'm in a lot of danger, just hopefully not from the water.
I know it's awful, but I want it to be Rover that pops his head out of that water. He'll be easier to beat. I've never seen the Two girl do any damage; there's nothing to suggest what she's capable of, and I really don't want to find out.
The likelihood of it being Rover that survives this altercation isn't a strong one, but I can hope anyway. What I really want to hope for is that they both drown, or hurt each other bad enough while they're under that they don't re-surface. It's about as wishful thinking as me believing in yet another failed alliance. It would be too easy for me, if both of them died like that.
I don't think they plan on going easy on me now, after everything.
I adjust my grip on the scythe and take a deep breath. My hands burn no matter how I hold it. The knife and sickle I still have aren't even a factor right now.
A loud boom echoes throughout the arena, and it's only a few seconds later when the Two girl surfaces, gasping for breath.
Of course.
Because I can't just have this one thing.
She paddles frantically for a moment, head whipping side to side, before she sees me. There's not much else to see. She treads water, just looking. If she swims over to the platform I'm standing on, there's no way for her to hurt me before I hurt her. Unless she plans on climbing away from me, back up, there's really nowhere near me for her to go. Instead she swims a little bit to the right and hauls herself on-top of one of the obnoxiously orange capsule lifeboats bobbing not far from me. It continues rocking back and forth in the waves as she pulls herself up, one knee braced against the top, hands locked white-knuckled around the ridges of it.
She smiles grimly. "Just you and me, huh? Probably should've killed you in the Feast."
"Probably," I agree. So much would have been different, if she hadn't ran. She most likely would have killed me. Larz still would have died. It could be Kole here, right now, instead of me.
Water laps against my boots, soaking into the laces, and I realize I'm still sinking. Just barely, but it's enough. Enough to tell me that if this doesn't end soon I'll be too far in the water to save myself. And I wasn't lying when I said I was so tired that I just wanted it to end.
It's just her left. She swings a leg over the lifeboat and sits down on the top of it, exhaling. Like she needs a break. Her hair is plastered all over her face and she's shivering. I don't know if I'm imagining it, but her lips already look a little blue. Her right hand drifts down by her side until the blade of her sword is almost fully in the water, like she can't be bothered to hold it up for the time being.
I wish I could do the same. Everything would feel a bit lighter, if I could put my weapon down.
"How many?" She asks, and it's not right that I know what she's asking about. Kill count. Because of course that matters right now.
"Three."
"Only one less than me. That's not too bad." She stares at the spot where Rover no doubt drowned. There's a little bit of blood in the water, but not enough to kill him by any stretch of the imagination. She had the same number of kills as me, up until a few minutes ago.
"You would've made a good Career," she continues, and the worst part is, she means it. Maybe that was the world I should have grown up in. I wouldn't have been dragging my feet through the dirt to survive, to feed my family. Maybe I would've been exactly like her, volunteering for a chance at glory. Looking at her now, though, I don't see that. Maybe it was never for the glory.
"Better than you?"
"Better than me."
And I know she means it, deep down, but I just can't handle this, this small-talk. It feels too unnatural, too wrong. One of us is going to be dead soon, and we're talking like nothing's wrong. Like nothing's happened to either of us.
"I can't— can we just finish this," I practically plead. I just want to go home, and I thought I hated it there. But I want it back now.
"If you want."
I look up at her, really look, and realize just how close she's gotten. Her blade's still in the water, the waves urging the lifeboat forward just the slightest, and that was the whole point of the damn small talk. She's been waiting, buying time, until she was closer.
She is now.
The sword leaves the water and comes flying towards my head before I can realize the implications of just how close she's gotten. There's nowhere to run to. I've got maybe ten square feet of space left, and half of it is getting overtaken by the water already. I throw myself down anyway, because the lifeboat's close enough to jump. The sword she threw buries itself in the wooden deck of the ship where my head was, and she throws herself after it, landing in my own little space just on top of my legs. The lifeboat is practically close enough to touch. How the hell did I not realize?
I kick her in the face before she can right herself and slide away until I can struggle back to my feet.
I can't move. A step backwards and I fall into the water, a step forwards and I impale myself on her swords. She pulls herself to her feet and regains the second one, pulling it out of the floor, brandishing them both towards me.
The scythe is longer, but she's got one more sword than I've got usable weapons. My hands are trembling under it's weight.
It's going to take one move from each of us, and the other is dead. That's how close we are. And the worst part is, I'm terrified where she doesn't look scared at all. The fear is keeping me alive, just enough on my toes to react, and she's trained not to feel it. Maybe it's the only part of her training she still really remembers.
Whether she believed it or not, it's untrue. I'd never be better than her, in any universe.
Two swords. One clear shot, at her chest with the scythe, and if I miss she kills me.
I can't miss. Just to prove Phil wrong. To see Sabrine again. My parents, too. Even if they hate me after this, I can't miss. For once in my life, I have to change the outcome of something on my own.
I yell, and it's filled with desperation and panic and dread, lunging forward, and then she ducks.
She ducks. And my scythe swings through the empty air where her heart should be, and I see it happening even before it does.
She ducks, directly under my weapon, and plunges a single sword into my chest.
The scythe goes tumbling out of my grip, splashing into the water and disappearing. Her face is an inch from mine, both hands locked around the hilt of the sword. Straight through my chest, just past my heart, out the back. I can feel every part of it, tearing me apart from the inside. The worst part is, she isn't even looking at me in the eyes. Not to apologize, not to watch it happen. She stares, hardened, over my shoulder, and then closes her eyes like she wants it to be over too.
She's no Career. Not even close.
When she yanks the sword out I'm half-gone already. I land in a limp pile at her feet, like someone pulled the plug on the faucet and everything's coming flooding out. Where she was looking up, over my shoulder, I see nothing. The sky doesn't even look real, and neither does she.
My whole life for this. Fighting so hard, ruining myself, for this nothingness.
My whole life, and I changed nothing.
But maybe she will.
It's not enough, but it's the last thought I have.
Man, this sucked.
You know what idc anymore scroll down and read this you're gonna anyway!
This girl was my victor from the beginning. It never changed. No one else ever held the spot. And regardless of what other people felt about who the victor should be, I knew deep down that I could never change it. Sinora deserved it, but so did a lot of other people. As much as she did deserve it there was a part of me that just couldn't do it, in the end. I loved her like she was my own (she is now Ans sorry ps I love you don't kill me), just like a lot of them were. And really, I loved them all. Yes, even Rover. To be fair he had it coming. Still hurt though, after all this time.
I will never stop appreciating what I got for this story. There were so many good ones and so many stories that I was so excited to write. There's still two more chapters though. The epilogue format will be quite different from the first time around, but there are still two. Because I like torturing myself.
Just to make this longer, guess who's not updating next week? Both because she's going to be away and because she's too lazy to finish the first epilogue? This girl right here.
No one hate me.
Until next time.