Chapter IX, Arena: Bury Me In Satin
- Six Feet Under -
The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games
Despite the winds outside, the silence in the cave was deafening.
Did it work? Ares truly didn't know if her words were inspiring enough to wake up Isla's dormant determination. She waited anxiously, reading her expression and her eyes, until Isla eventually nodded lamely.
"For Cal…"
"Yeah," Ares smiled again, wiping away the fresh tears pooling in her eyes, "For Cal."
"So, what? You want to leave now?"
Ares inhaled sharply, filling her lungs with the bitterly cold air, "Yeah. No time like the present. We don't know how far away this ice is, do we?"
Isla paused for a second, her eyes vacant as she stared off into the distance. Ares tried not to let herself be unnerved by the fact that she was most likely communicating with Cal — the guilt ballooning in her stomach.
"It's not far," Isla answered eventually, "So I guess we move now."
Ares nodded happily, "Okay. Let's do this."
The two girls prepared themselves for the storm ahead, tightening their coats to preserve warmth as best as they could.
Ares thumbed the collar of her coat around her, tucking her long red hair underneath. She watched as Isla stood near the fire, foot poised. Once the fire was gone, there was no turning back. There was only moving ahead.
Isla looked at her, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Ares nodded, eyes full of steely determination, "Positive. I don't want to just give up."
"Okay, no turning back now," Isla mumbled, stamping out the cinders. The cave was swallowed in cold darkness, a chill edging up Ares' spine. "I'll follow you."
"Oh—" Ares wasn't prepared for that, "—Oh, okay. Are you sure? Can your friends not lead us?"
"Conveniently, they've decided now to disappear," Isla replied.
The lump in Ares' throat made it hard to breathe. Shakily, she nodded, although she knew that Isla couldn't tell in the pitch blackness of their surroundings. Fingers clenched and spirit burning as hot as it possibly could, Ares moved towards the howling blizzard at the entrance of the cave, and stepped outside.
There was a moment of total confusion. The thick, white wall of snow made Ares' head spin as she struggled to work out the direction of the village. She even peered down at the ground, though their footprints were already buried by a fresh layer.
"Isla!" Ares shouted, "I don't know the way!"
Ares felt a hand on her shoulder as Isla's lips pressed against her ear, "You'll have to guess!"
Oh. Oh, no. Ares didn't know how to trust her judgement. Nervously, she scanned her surroundings again, hoping that some innate gut instinct that she never knew she had would kick in.
Please let this be right, Ares prayed. "This way!"
Isla kept her hand on Ares' shoulder, the two girls in tandem as they trudged through the snow. Ares kept her head down, one hand raised in front of her to feel for trees, the cold biting against her skin.
The ground was so uneven that her steps were wonky. Trembling, shivering, taking deep breaths — Ares could only hope that she had made the right decision, and wasn't walking them both into the thick of danger that they were trying to avoid.
"The river should be nearby!" Isla shouted again over the blizzard.
Ares could hope that she was right. "I think so!"
A little white lie didn't hurt anyone if it helped the greater good, right? Ares just really didn't want to dampen Isla's faith in her. Not again. Not after everything Ares had already crumbled in her hand and struggled to ever build back up.
The ground began to slope downwards. Ares' chest filled with hope. The river? Did they make it?
Ares tensed and stopped, however, when the faint moaning of something familiar seemed to screech over the storm. Isla didn't hear it, apparently, as she walked straight into Ares' back. Ares almost screamed out of panic, retracting her hand to her chest.
"Ares! Why did you stop!?"
Ares' body trembled as the moans grew louder and louder. She whipped her head around, gazing into the whiteness of the blizzard, unable to see anything as the moans reached a fever pitch.
"Ares!"
"It's—here!"
Isla couldn't tell why Ares froze until she, too, heard the undeniable moans of the monster, somewhere out there. Her fingers dug into Ares' shoulder until the other girl yelped, spinning around to face her.
"It's here!" Ares yelled again, "I—I can't see it!"
Isla couldn't see anything, not even Ares' no doubt frightful expression. She could feel the other girl trembling under her grip, pushing her back up against Isla defensively.
"Shh!" Isla hissed, "We need to try and be quiet!"
The moans continued to grow louder and louder, as if it was all around them. Isla didn't know which direction it was coming from. Even if the creature only hungered for Ares, Isla was just collateral damage.
And if it wasn't satiated after Ares, then what?
Isla didn't want to dare think about it. She felt terrible even allowing the thought to escape, to abandon Ares completely, cross her mind.
She could never forgive herself. She knew Cal would never forgive her either, even if he was already dead.
Damn it, Isla sighed, releasing her grip on Ares and spinning around, flushing their backs together so nothing could come in between them.
She raised her fists nervously, knowing full well that it wouldn't help much. "Keep your eyes peeled!"
The moaning reached a crescendo. So loud and prominent, as if it was being blasted down Isla's ears. And then, it stopped altogether, cut out completely. The wind howled louder until Isla could only hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
She wished Amryn was around. The only person who could defend them, who could still fight, who made Isla feel a little safer, as selfish as it sounded.
"We need to keep moving!" Isla shouted, realising that the adrenaline pumping through her veins was keeping her warm, albeit poorly. The muscles in her hands tensed as the cold seeped into them.
Slowly behind her, Ares edged forwards, tentative steps down the embankment. There was no ice beneath them. It was frozen ground hidden beneath the snow, a disappointing revelation that meant they weren't near the river nor the village.
Possibly not even heading the right direction at all.
Isla tensed, trying not to let it get to her. The bitterness of her situation. The fear she held for her life. The anger she held for Amryn's cowardice. The conflict she held for Ares' presence.
Why shouldn't I just run? Run and never look back and claw my way to my home again?
Why am I letting a dead boy's morals affect me?
When Isla saw the static appear in front of her, she almost screamed out in anger as Cal's spectre shifted in view. His kind, caring face only reminding Isla that her current feelings were held together by weak strings, pulled by Cal's prominence on her.
"What do you want?"
I want to make sure you're okay.
"You chose a good time to not come back," Isla felt the bitterness swelling in her throat.
"Are you talking to them!?" Ares shouted from behind her, "Can you get them to help us?"
Isla ignored her, squinted eyes struggling to fixate on Cal as his body morphed beyond the snow. "Well? Are we heading the right way or not?"
You need to defeat it if you want to be free.
A hard lump to swallow. "No," Isla answered, "We don't have to."
You do. It won't stop until Ares is dead. But even then… it won't stop until everyone is dead.
Why me? Isla wanted to ask, but chose not to in front of Ares. Why do I have to help? Why do I have to be the one to save us? Why does Amryn get to murder our ally and escape without retribution?
Her bitterness quickly turned into sadness. The sadness of a young girl who constantly had to swallow her feelings and adapt to those around her, or be left forgotten about.
Isla didn't even know if Cal was being truthful. She still believed that her own mind was so messed up now, so blackened by her experiences, that it was purposely leading Isla to her own death, just for some peace.
"How can I trust you?"
The static moved peculiarly, as if something was passing through the spectre. The horrifying, gaping mouth of Cal exploded into the very real, very terrifying half-face of the creature as it lunged at Isla.
The full weight of Isla crashed into Ares' back, sweeping her off of her feet. The shrill cry for help got lost in the wind as she landed in the snow, scrambling forward to try and gain traction, unable to hear anything besides the incessant moans.
"Isla!"
A slimy hand wrapped around Ares' leg, dragging her back through the pillowed snow. Blood rushed to her ears as she squirmed and flipped herself over, kicking out with her other foot. There was a muted thud, a small opportunity for release, as Ares scrambled to her feet.
"Ares!" Isla was suddenly by her, more panicked than usual, "Run!"
Ares didn't know where to run! She could barely tell the direction of Isla or the beast, the blizzard numbing her senses.
Isla's hands pushed against her and Ares stumbled along the sloped ground, struggling to move forward through the thickened snow.
It didn't matter. She only made it a few more steps before Isla's scream cut through the air, and Ares stopped, knowing that she'd have to risk it all to save her.
She didn't have to sit on it for long — it was the least she owed her.
This isn't the one.
Teeth crunched through Isla's coat and shirt, tearing into her shoulder. Her scream didn't faze the creature as blood gushed down the side of its half-eroded face. Weak hands and elbows slammed into its body, but the sharpened teeth were rooted in sinew, locking it onto her like an animal.
There was no escape. But the beast knew this wasn't the girl it craved.
"Get off of her!"
There she is. The beast removed its jaw as Ares came crashing into it, feeble hands shoving it backwards.
"Isla—!"
The other girl screamed as Ares — the fiery-haired escapee — shoved her into the thick of the blizzard, disappearing from view. But they couldn't escape any more. The beast had legs that moved, albeit shakily.
It sniffed the air, smiling at the sweet, sickly smell of her, before staggering after her.
Isla couldn't stop whimpering as Ares pulled her along, blood pouring from the gaping wound in her shoulder. She was in total agony — hot, white fire coursing through her body, tears blinding her vision.
She felt sick. She felt dizzy. She felt… annoyed, though it was muted underneath the pain.
I tried to save her, and for what?
She didn't want to regret it. As she hobbled alongside Ares, draped over one of her shoulders, she couldn't help but think that she might.
Ares couldn't see the blood but she could feel it, gushing through her fingers as she clamped down onto the wound, trying to stem the flow as they moved as fast as they could. Her fingers held muscle and sinew and she just knew, even from touch, that a whole chunk was missing.
"Shh— shh, it'll be okay—" Ares soothed, trying not to sound too panicked as they stumbled blindly.
Isla whimpered, "We… have to… move faster…"
It was easier said than done. Ares wasn't strong enough to take all of Isla's weight, and the snow made it hard to trudge through.
The moans continued to grow louder behind them.
They couldn't outrun it. Not any more.
Ares squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry, before the tears fell freely once more. She felt so useless and pathetic. Such a bother, such a burden. It's all my fault. It's all my fault… I did all of this…
Ares wished she could do more. She wished she could protect them both. She wished she could make amends for what she had done.
There's a reason why you were abandoned… Ares didn't open her eyes in time as her feet went out from underneath her. Isla shrieked somewhere to her side as the pair went straight to the ground hard, the air knocked from Ares' lungs.
Why can't I just be more helpful? Ares struggled to get back up to her feet.
Why do I just bring pain? Ares was trying her best to not let it get to her, but the adrenaline pumping through her body made her thoughts catasphrophic.
She stared down the space in which she believed the monster was coming.
There was no more running.
Limos, I need you. I need you to help me… I need you to help me fix this. Please, I'm begging you. Don't let Isla suffer because of me. Give me something so that I can save us… please.
There was a strange, tingling sensation in Ares' fingers. Little hot pricks that began to spread through her hands and arms, filling her chest with such warmth that it chased away the bitter cold that hung around.
It was as if a light turned on in Ares. Some sign from above. A fire within.
She clenched her fists, jaw tightened, as she pulled herself up onto unsteady legs. The moans continued to increase as the beast emerged through the wall of whiteness.
Ares stared it down, "I will not bend any more…"
Her hands erupted in blistering white fire, chasing away the bleakness that surrounded her. Her eyes widened in shock, but the power teased through her body, making her feel so alive that it was hard to ignore.
A blessing from Limos. The means to save them both.
"This is over…" Ares whispered as the flames began to tower in her palms, shimmering like glitter, sizzling as snow drizzled down on them. "I will not let you do this any more."
The beast didn't stop moving. It didn't fear the fire that flowed through Ares' body.
"Leave us alone!" Ares moved, hands facing out, to meet the monster halfway.
Her hands hit the rotted flesh of the beast. She screamed as the beast's unearthly, guttural moans pierced the frosty air. It tried to pull away — to fear the fire — but Ares pushed forwards, fingers digging into the remaining soft, squishy flesh, feeling it melt and ooze around her hand. The rancid smell of curdled milk and garbage filled her nose.
"For Limos!"
The beast fell backwards and Ares toppled on top, hands pushing through empty veins and tendons, feeling bone that grew hot under her touch. It thrashed and screamed beneath her like a trapped animal.
Then, in a split second, the hot white flames travelled the remaining flesh until the creature lit up like a candle, body made of wax.
Ares felt hands on her shoulder, yanking her upwards, momentarily lost in the righteous power flowing through her.
"Ares… we should go…" Isla said breathlessly.
The fire extinguished from Ares' hands, bile caught in her throat. The snow didn't put the fire out, even as the beast rolled out in it, lit up amongst the blizzard, desperate to ease the burning that corroded its body.
"No…" Ares started to cry, "I need to see it die… I need to see it end."
The screams soon mellowed into unnatural moans until, as if an eternity later, the beast went still, body reduced to melted cinders.
Air rushed from Ares' lungs as she fell to her knees. This time, when she cried, it was nothing but relief that this chapter was over.
The doorknob rattled for the umpteenth time as Sanjay attempted to free himself, a prisoner in the very bedroom that he sought sanctuary from.
He couldn't even blame the pair of them for their actions. It was important to be safe, after all. If the roles had been reversed, Sanjay's desire to avoid unnecessary conflict meant he would've done something similar. He just wished that he had the foresight to predict it.
His eyes gazed around the room once more, calculating any other escape routes. There was nothing more than the battered window that led out into the storm.
And besides — he didn't want to ruin their treaty.
Even when the numbers dwindled, Sanjay wanted to keep to his word as rigid as possible. It was all he had left. His morals, his personality, the very few things that he refused to let the arena strip from him. It sounded stupid — and Sanjay half-wished that he could be more tactical in that aspect — but if he was destined to die, he wanted to be himself, always, and not be defined by choosing self-preservation over humanity.
He slid down to the floor, back against the door, just to rest.
Time seemed to flit by as Sanjay closed his eyes, losing himself in his mind. It was a blissful reprieve — time away from the stress that the Hunger Games bore down on his shoulders.
It was only when there was a rap on the door that Sanjay's eyes snapped open.
"Hey? Hey, hello?" Sanjay quickly stood up.
"Do you have any food and water in there with you?"
Niobe. Sanjay bent down to his backpack, digging through the bare essentials that he kept with him. There was enough to last him a day or so, maybe more if he rationed it well. Enough to feed them all if he shared. "Yeah, I do. Did you want some? I don't mind sharing some out if you don't have anything."
"We just wanted to make sure, that's all. We— we don't know how long you'll be in there."
Sanjay nodded knowingly, "I understand. I'll be fine. Thank you for asking, though. It's nice to know that some of us still believe in the good of helping."
"We don't want to hurt you, Sanjay."
"I don't want to hurt you, either…" Sanjay went quiet, trying to shake the memory of Ludwin's corpse on the table, "I don't want to hurt anyone."
There was a pause. One that made Sanjay almost believe that she had walked away, abandoning him to the silence once more.
"Do you know who is dead?" Niobe asked, "We haven't seen many people."
"Ludwin from District Two," Sanjay answered sadly, "That's all I know, unfortunately."
"He was your ally, wasn't he?" Niobe replied sympathetically, "I'm really sorry."
Sanjay smiled weakly, "He was a good guy. Happened a while ago, though. I'm losing track of time. How about you, anyway? Do you know anyone that's died?"
"Sakura from District Twelve," Niobe answered, "Myria from Two, and… and your district partner, Geneva."
Sanjay's eyes widened. Geneva is dead? He almost felt terrible for the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. He forgot how stressed he was about possibly bumping into her. He knew that, between them, he'd stand little to no chance.
"Thank you," Sanjay said, "I really appreciate the information."
"Rest well, Sanjay."
Sanjay listened as Niobe walked away finally, heading back downstairs, as the weight of her words fell onto his shoulders.
The chance of his survival had increased, and he didn't even know it originally. His biggest threat — no, both of them — were gone.
It was a foreign feeling — to come to terms with the idea that you were thankful for someone's death — and as Sanjay battled with it, he realised that he seriously, honestly, somehow could live.
Almost… there…
In her mind, Alanis could trace the rough distance between the bridge and the village. It couldn't have been huge — maybe a mile? — and yet, it felt like they had been walking through the snow forever.
Each step was agony at this point. The permanent cold had seized her bones, and licks of fire teased Alanis' muscles, making them tighten. It wouldn't be much longer before her knees would buckle, sending her to the snow below…
"We're almost there, Ven. Don't worry."
Even through the wind, Alanis heard it loud and clear. Lazarus' concern was fully focused on the dead that walked among them, and not the ally that chose not to abandon him, very much alive. It was a stab in the back, a pain that made Alanis doubt herself in every imaginable way.
Does my loyalty keep dooming me?
It killed me once, Alanis coldly tried to remind herself. What if it does again?
"We're… here…" Alanis almost sighed in relief as the eaves of the dilapidated homes broke through the blizzard.
A small reprieve. A small glimmer of hope that she could begin to feel better, even if she was unwanted.
Alanis carried on moving with purpose, feet barely keeping up with the momentum of her body, surging her towards a home on the far edge of the cluster. Her heart ached in her chest as she bounded up the two steps, slamming her shoulder straight into the locked door. It wobbled, if only for a second, before she did it again, draining the last ounce of strength in her body.
The door gave in, yawning open, as Alanis almost collapsed inside.
Immediately, she felt a little warmer, a little more free from the cold. She staggered into the kitchen, hearing Lazarus and Vendelin shuffle in behind her.
"This… is much better," Alanis smiled weakly, falling to the floor in exhaustion.
Lazarus lingered in the main room at the front, "You should get some rest."
"I'll be fine," Alanis heaved, "I just need… a few minutes."
"That's what I said," Lazarus replied, colder than Alanis anticipated, "We'll keep watch."
Alanis wanted to defend herself further. She wanted to scream and shout at Lazarus for being so stupid to push her away, to isolate himself with the thing. But she was too exhausted to fight. She was too exhausted to fight the hurt that she felt.
She was too exhausted to fight the doubt that lingered at the back of her mind, wondering why she placed her loyalty so high above her own self-preservation?
You wanted to go home to your sister, didn't you? Knowing Lazarus would have to die? Alanis stared at her ally as he turned, sitting down at the splintered table with his putrid shadow bearing over him.
I have to think for me, and not for him.
It was a hard concept to swallow — but a reality check Alanis needed, even if Lazarus refused to face his.
"You're right," Alanis pulled herself up, inhaling as much warm, dusty air as she could, trying to put away the chills in her body. She slowly walked into the main room, avoiding Vendelin as much as she could, "I'm going to rest upstairs. Keep an eye on the door, just in case someone—"
"—Yeah, I know," Lazarus interrupted her, "Just go rest."
The dejection made her feel sick, even as she nodded curtly, taking herself up the stairs and closing the bedroom door behind her.
When Lazarus heard Alanis close the door, it briefly snapped him from his misery.
A few moments of respite where he wanted nothing more than to apologise to her, to make amends, to build the bridge that he had inadvertently burned to cinders. He wanted to banish Vendelin from the house and their alliance, if only to preserve the very real, very lively friendship he still had with her.
But it quickly disintegrated in his head. Words that felt so real but meant nothing to him.
She abandoned them. She is the reason Vendelin died.
She's lucky that Lazarus was able to bring Vendelin back, or else Lazarus would truly be unable to ever possibly forgive her.
Time passed as Lazarus continued to fight his own thoughts in silence, a battle waged that he couldn't understand any more. The only comfort he had was the boy he had loved for a decade.
"She's still mad at me," Lazarus mumbled, staring up at the comforting expression in Vendelin's blank stare, "Do you think she'll forgive us for being so unbothered by her attempts to fix this?"
Vendelin didn't answer. But Lazarus knew what he would've said.
"Oh, Lazarus, you know she will. Alanis is very forgiving and she'll see the error of her ways," Lazarus mimicked Vendelin, "She'll come around to your way."
"You're right!" Lazarus laughed, his voice cracking, "You're so right, Ven. I'm glad I still have you to keep me grounded when I get a little too ahead with myself."
Lazarus' eyes twitched, a flicker of darkness, before he held a hand to his head. He suddenly felt so woosy, as if a rush of adrenaline almost pitched him over sideways. He reached out with his other hand, finding Vendelin's wrist for support.
Why do I feel so bad all of a sudden? Lazarus couldn't work out why. And then, as quickly as it happened, he felt completely fine again.
"Huh… weird," Lazarus mumbled.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Ven," Lazarus shook Vendelin's wrist comfortingly, "You don't have to worry about me."
He knew Vendelin would, though. Just like Alanis would if she even cared any more.
But she does care… doesn't she?
"She only cares about herself."
"You changed your tune," Lazarus looked up at Vendelin's face, reading his empty eyes for some kind of answer as to why he didn't believe that Alanis cared about him any more, "What makes you think that she doesn't? I… I think she still does, it's just— it's really hard right now because she hurt us and we hurt her… I hurt her…"
"She wants me to disappear, Lazarus. She wants you all to herself, like she always has done."
Lazarus shook his head in disbelief, "That… that can't be true. She would just leave if she didn't care about us any more, wouldn't she?"
"She already did…"
Pain exploded behind Lazarus' eyes as he held his head, trying to fight through the thrashing thoughts that made his skull hurt. They collided like freight trains, noise so deafening that Lazarus could only hear his own heartbeat, thumping away in his chest.
"Alanis… she hates us."
There was complete silence as Lazarus let it settle and simmer inside of his head and heart until he truly believed it. The words festered to the point that the poison filled every crevice in his brain.
"Lazarus?"
"Lazarus?"
Alanis watched as Lazarus looked up, eyes two shade darker than before. In the span of an hour, he looked as if he had been dragged through the mud, with heavy eyelids and pale, milky skin.
"What?" Lazarus almost sneered at her.
"You— you were talking to yourself, Lazarus," Alanis kept her distance, refusing to move beyond the stairs, staring out at him through the beaten railings, "You kept saying how I hate you and I don't care about you any more…"
"Well?" Lazarus grimaced, "You don't, do you? You left us, Alanis!"
The scream made Alanis recoil, "I— I told you that I—"
"—That you only care about your damn self!" Lazarus shouted again, tears filling in his unearthly dark eyes, "That you wanted to leave us because you hoped we would die, and you wouldn't be burdened by us any more!"
Dread filled Alanis' heart. He was no longer the goofy, airy daydreamer. He was now grounded — no, crashed… crashed face-first in a pit of pain.
"That's not true…" Alanis whispered, scared of the tremble in her voice, "Lazarus… I'm really worried about you…"
"Oh! Now you care!" Lazarus slammed an angry fist into the table, making it quake, "Now you care about us! Now you want to fix everything that you broke!"
Dark memories crossed Alanis' mind quickly. Memories of arguing with her drunken parents, unable to rationalise with them on any level, unable to defuse the situation as it continued to worsen.
She knew, from those terrible experiences, that the only way to dissolve it all was to walk away.
Unable to hide the tears as they began to fall from her eyes, Alanis crept upstairs, turning away from the friend she had truly lost.
"No!" Lazarus roared, "You don't get to walk away again!"
The roar seemed to spurn something in Vendelin. The emotionless, motionless creature came alive with wide, predatory eyes as it turned menacingly quick to face Alanis as terror froze her to the spot.
Lazarus rose slowly behind him, "You don't get to do this to us again…"
Her reaction kicked in as she threw herself up the stairs, bashing her knees into the steps along the way as Vendelin moved swiftly at her, a chilling screech emitting from his broken throat.
She almost made it to the top when a hand caught her by the ankle, yanking her back down a few steps. Alanis clenched her jaw as stars peppered her vision, using her free foot to kick out and down at Vendelin.
Vendelin recoiled, if only for a moment, as Alanis booted down hard again.
Her desire for survival finally overruled her sense of loyalty.
She wasn't able to die like this.
Vendelin's grip wouldn't shake, however, nails firmly digging into Alanis' skin until she felt blood trickling down her socks.
"Lazarus!" Alanis screeched, "Stop him! Make him stop!"
Lazarus didn't respond. She saw him through the fearful haze in her eyes as he remained still.
Alanis turned herself over onto her back, using the extra momentum and freedom to slam the boot even harder into Vendelin's sour face. The blow made his skin wrinkle, nose sharply twisted as he finally released her.
Alanis scrambled to her feet, rushing to the bedroom and slamming the door shut.
Her heart beat hard in her chest, adrenaline spiking through her body as she pushed the beaten dresser across the floor to barricade the door. It opened briefly — an attempt by Vendelin to grab her once more — before it was firmly locked.
Alanis staggered back, eyes wide, hearing Vendelin throw his whole body into the door, watching as the dresser barely held on…
She doesn't deserve this.
The thought echoed somewhere at the back of his head. A fleeting, momentary thought that was quickly polluted by venomous desire to make Alanis hurt as much as Lazarus hurt.
He needed her to feel the same pain he felt, the same pain that Vendelin must've felt, all down to Alanis' betrayal.
Just upstairs, Lazarus could hear Vendelin smashed into the door, over and over, relentlessly pursuing the girl that had hurt them both. Very slowly, Lazarus walked to the bottom of the stairs, staring up into the darkness.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Lazarus!"
He heard his name but he felt nothing. He was cold and dead inside, a husk. His eyes flickered dark, colour drained from his face. Suddenly, there was a loud crash as Vendelin finally broke into the bedroom, and Alanis' screams soon penetrated the cold house.
Lazarus climbed the stairs slowly, methodically, drawn to what he had caused.
As the dresser toppled over and the door swung open violently, Alanis realised that there was no escape from this.
Vendelin charged in, teeth bared and eyes narrowed, as Alanis distantly felt her own scream erupting from her throat. She braced herself for the impact as Vendelin tackled her, being shoved around the room as furniture fell, her defensive kicks wild and panicky.
Vendelin had the upper hand. His paranormal strength and inability to feel pain meant that Alanis was never going to win.
She shoved her hands into his face, squeezing her fingers into his fleshy, undead skin as it eroded slowly, smoking whispering up into the air.
His nails dragged down her face, trickling it with blood. His teeth tore down her arm, ripping away the skin. She fell to the floor, the weight of Vendelin crushing down on her chest, as he swiped viciously at her face, ripping away her delicate flesh.
The fight soon waned as her blood left her body.
All the while… Alanis never stopped screaming for Lazarus to save her.
Lazarus looked in from the darkened doorway as Alanis' thrashing body began to still.
Vendelin never eased up on the onslaught, even as Lazarus edged into the room. There was blood splattered everywhere. Violent strikes of red against the walls and floor. Spots of it painted across the aged furniture. A puddle beneath Alanis' quivering, shaking body.
"Vendelin…" Lazarus mumbled, stopping just near the boy. Vendelin stopped, arms hanging limp at his side, blood dripping from his fingers.
What have you done? The voice called out, muffled.
Lazarus' eyes flickered again, warmth returning to them briefly, a power struggle to contain the darkness that overwhelmed him. Eventually, though, the light turned back on and his senses returned.
The brutal scene unfolded before him. Vendelin knelt on the floor. The blood… so much blood…
When his eyes landed on Alanis, his heart stilled and his knees gave out.
"What— Alanis— I—"
Behind her mutilated face, Alanis' breathing was shallow, bloodied lips gasping for air.
"What have I done…?" Lazarus mumbled, hands trembling as they reached out lamely, as if he could somehow cure her.
Alanis' eyes strained to stare at him, warning him away.
"She deserved this, Lazarus."
"N—No," Lazarus cried, "S—She didn't—"
"She hurt us both so badly. An eye for an eye."
Lazarus was violently shaking, tears streaming down his pale face. Every breath was lodged in his lungs, chest so physically tight that he was scared he'd stop breathing altogether. His head raced ahead, fear and darkness and guilt colliding into each other.
He reached for Alanis' hand, completely missing how she tried to pull it back.
"I… I'm so sorry…"
"She deserved this."
"I—I can't lose her…" Lazarus raised his hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, before he angrily pulled them out and slammed them hard into his head, stars exploding in his vision. Over and over. Again and again.
I did this! I killed her! I killed her, I killed her, I killed her… I hurt her, oh Limos, I hurt her so bad and she never forgave me and she's going to die hating me—
"You can always save her…"
Lazarus' thoughts went dead. His eyes flickered dark once more as he climbed over Alanis' cold, bloodied body. Alanis' eyes strained to stare up at him as he gently raised his hands to her throat, wrapping his fingers tight, tears streaming down his face silently.
He completely ignored the way her eyes bulged in desperation, in fear, as her body spasmed and jerked beneath his touch.
He completely ignored the way her eyes dimmed, as she finally stilled with her last breath, as the menacing wolf in the distance howled once more to announce her demise.
After a few moments, however, he couldn't ignore as Alanis inhaled sharply, lifeless eyes opening back up.
Lazarus had a second attempt to rekindle what had been broken.
He smiled brokingly. They'll never leave me again.
The howl from somewhere outside stole Rafe's attention.
I swear, if they have wolves… I'm getting a fur coat somehow, Rafe thought, slightly agitated. It would make sense for the Capitol to send wolves on them. After all, everyone was bound to barricade in the houses, sitting ducks for their amusement.
Calm down… Rafe took a deep breath, exhaling from his nostrils until he spluttered, catching Niobe's attention from the bottom of the stairs where she sat.
"It's supposed to be back out from your mouth," Niobe mumbled amusingly.
Rafe snorted dryly as he dried his face, "You heard that though, right? Another death?"
"Yeah. That only leaves nine of us…"
"And we have one upstairs," Rafe reminded her, "Did you speak to him?"
"I did," Niobe answered quietly, "He seems very nice. I feel bad for locking him up."
"We have to protect ourselves," Rafe answered reassuringly, "Your gut instinct is what has kept you alive all this time. He's probably a really cool guy, but he wants to live just as much as we do, so… better safe than dead."
Niobe stood up, creeping towards Rafe as she sat back down, "We can't keep him there forever."
"When the storm ends, we'll unlock his door and leave. Nobody gets hurt then."
Niobe nodded, "I guess so."
"I know so," Rafe rested his hand on Niobe's shoulder, "If he's as nice as you say he is, then he won't mind waiting it out for a bit longer. Besides… he has it pretty easy up there. Nice and safe."
"Look at you… you're so mature now."
"Hey," Rafe laughed, "I've always been mature-ish. Maybe a psychotic, superpowered Limos worshipper trying to kill you puts things into perspective."
Rafe had a long way to go. He knew that better than anyone else.
All that mattered was that he tried his hardest, no matter what.
Somewhere along the forest path, a coat was abandoned, quickly being blanketed by the snow. The footsteps ahead moved painstakingly slow towards the village, shards of blackened skin crumbling to the ground.
Cosette couldn't feel the pain as her body slowly disintegrated.
She could barely piece her thoughts together, grasping hard for memories that didn't send trembles through her body.
She just felt hollow. A moving, breathing husk, a ticking bomb full of raw power that was edging closer and closer to detonation.
On the horizon, the village began to peer into view. Desolate houses that no doubt hid the remaining tributes, making Cosette's mission to end this sooner rather than later all the more easier.
Cosette stopped, taking a deep breath as her dark skin flaked away, drifting in the breeze.
For Limos.
The end was nigh, as the ground trembled beneath Cosette's feet.
w w w. sixfeetunderhg. weebly. c o m.
The Fallen:
10th — Alanis Munari, killed by Lazarus Mirzan
Dyl! Alanis was such a complete turnaround from Enoch. I loved every semblance of this girl with such passion. Her strength, her kindest, her loyalty, her bravery. Her biggest goal was to always return home to see her sister, but it didn't stop her from helping out those she cared about. I think everyone saw this coming… but the opportunity was too good to pass up. She'll be forever missed!
Corey, you only have three chapters left and you still have nine tributes alive, what are you doing, son?
Things are about to get real interesting from here on out. I hope you're all ready :)
~Corey.