XLI. Crossed The Line
So that towards her own Beloved might go
The bride of Him who, uttering a loud cry,
Espoused her with his consecrated blood.
CW: The first two POVs feature a depiction of something kind of awful and gory that I didn't really anticipate thinking of until I did. It's a lot more gross in theory but like, you've been warned.
The girl from Three is fuckin' horrific.
Well, they knew that from yesterday's fuck shit where she was yelling at them and Mozi instead of being a good little captive like the Five girl, but today's a whole 'nother genre of hell with her.
As soon as Malin had stopped their bleeding, they figured the best course of action would be to simply leave her in this room and go off on their merry way, doing lord know's what, but when they went to turn the door's handle, it wouldn't fuckin' budge.
At first, Mal thought it was the Five girl fucking with them, but Three was happy to inform them, "If you think Verdigris is the one who locked us in here, you're wrong. That goblin has worms in their brain, t'was probably the Gamemakers."
Well, fuck them! Mal thought then, and after at least eight hours, they're still thinking that.
It's like they want them to kill one another, or more accurately, they want her to kill them, and they simply do not fuck with that. After their lil' stint in Capitol jail, it makes sense the 'Makers wouldn't want them walking out of the arena with a crown on their head, but actively cockblocking them is sorta rude.
At the very least, they should've instantly killed them. It'd be better than dealing with the Three and all her annoying ass taunts.
"You know, you're lucky I haven't bitten my way out of this shit," she said at some point, wincing in pain as she sunk her teeth into the rope. "You're lucky my teeth hurt like hell right now."
Another time, she cooed, "Don't you want to untie me so the two of us can have a fair fight?"
I fuckin' kidnapped you, that's not how this works! Mal had mused. Yet I can't do it cause—
Mozi's watching them. Well, she's not actually watching then, 'cause she's dead as fuck, but like… her body's still here and it's fuckin' weird. They don't exactly like this reminder that they betrayed their friend, even if she did sorta betray them first. This whole thing is so fucking rude.
Really, Mal should take themself out of their misery by either killing her or killing themself, but they were too busy bleeding for a hot second, and now they just overall feel miserable. Perhaps taking out Three would make them feel less miserable, but whenever they get near her with the knife, she just hisses at them, "Don't you fucking dare. What would your friend over here think?"
She'd tell me to get over myself and just kill you, Mal eventually answers the question in their head.
They pick their knife up off the ground, Mozi's blood still dry on the blade and walk towards her. This is gonna be easy! Just blood and guts and guts and blood and it'll all be great and I'll be so happy once she's dead.
As soon as they're looking her in the eyes though, they're not quite sure. She taunts them to "drop the fucking knife," yet they refuse. Instead, they steady the blade above the spot right above the center of her eyes. They take a deep breath, preparing to solve all their problems once and for all, but before they can stab the bitch, they feel a kick in their gut as they fall down and onto the ground.
"You should've tied my legs together better," Three coos, bending over onto the ground and trying to pry the knife from their hands despite her limited range of movement. "You're an idiot, I hope you know that."
Trust me, I know. Malin grunts, refusing to let go of their weapon. I've known for a long ass time that I'm as dumb as fuckin' rocks. Doesn't mean I deserve to die though!
Three presses the weight of her body onto them, not dissimilar to how they did to Mozi, attempting to crush their fingers under their chest. Mal's hands sweat from grabbing onto the handle with all their might, bringing the blade into her shoulder, which doesn't even make her flinch.
Instead, she carefully stands up and jumps on their hand, pain shooting up their fingers as they hear their own bones crunch until they're given no choice but to drop the blade. They write as Three inspects the blade in her hand before using the serrated edges to free herself of her bindings.
"Thanks for the help," she says with a laugh, extending her hand to Mal's wrist and helping them off the ground. They're sure they're about to get stabbed by her in a spot that'll fully take them out once the two of them are making total eye contact, but instead of aiming for their heart, Three stabs them in the stomach, reopening the wound that Mozi created with a splatter of blood.
"You really think I'll let you go that easy?" She retracts the blade, Mal hunching back in pain. "After all the annoyance you and your friend made me suffer from, you deserve worse."
Do I really? They question the situation. Even though their one hand with two fingers is hardly functional, at least it doesn't hurt the way the hand Three jumped on does, enabling Mal to dig their nails into the cut they made on her shoulder, trying to pry her skin from her bones. The light splatter of blood against their chin is proof that they're at least doing something, but because they're not armed, they're still at the disadvantage.
Just as easily as she did the first time, Three kicks them backwards, and this time they feel their head slam against the floor and their vision slightly blurs. Mal squeal as she stabs them again, this time further up their abdomen. She backs away from them and goes to the cabinets with a smirk on her face.
Malin wants to get up and slap that stupid bitch in the face, even if it'll make their hand hurt like hell, but they can't, cause their head feels heavy whenever they try to move. They tilt it to the side to see Three gathering a role of duct tape and some sort of metal tube, so naturally they wonder what the fuck she needs that for.
She walks over to them and covers their first wound with the duct tape, not saying a word despite Mal's wordless hissing.
"Oh you want me to say something?" Three laughs. "I'd rather give you the silent treatment the same way you did to me, if you don't mind. I realize, you're physically incapable of speaking, but I also don't care."
She pulls a lid off the metal tube, revealing a small handle. What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck is that?
The sheer absurdity of whatever's happening somehow calms Malin's nerves. Nothing about this feels real, even when Three takes off another lid, revealing a rope with a needle attached to the end. What the fuck?
"Don't worry, my little friend." Her voice sounds enough like Mozi to significantly worry them. "Everything is going to be fine. Why wouldn't everything be fine?"
Oh I don't know, because you have a fucking tire pump? How the actual fuck did you even get that?
If she's doing what Mal thinks she's doing, well… I did always say that I wanted to go out with a boom, didn't I?
She sticks the needle into the second hole she made in their abdomen and uses the duct tape to create a seal of sorts. Oh my fuck— she's actually? Fuck, and I thought Mozi was insane. Hell, I'd probably like it more if it was Mozi doing this.
Not that Malin particularly minds when Hedy begins to lift up the pump's handle, pushing air inside of them. Again, they've always said that they wanted their life to mean something, and that they wanted to die in a way that wasn't hypothermia or an STD. Did they necessarily mean that they wanted to be inflated by a feral sixteen-year-old? Not necessarily, but it still beats dying in a boring way.
If you only live once, that also means you only die once, they rationalize.
Strangely, they think that dying so cruely is going to be good for whatever legacy they leave on this fucked-up world. Mal will be remembered as the poor bastard who got inflated, and suddenly Three's the bad guy. As much as they love being abhorred, maybe they've always wanted somebody to feel some sort of sympathy for them. They've lived life an outcast, but maybe their death will allow Six to come together in disgust that they're gone and it happened like this.
Perhaps, the absurd was necessary to make Malin Mardari win in their mind. Perhaps, that's why they stop caring as they hold onto the ground and watch as Three continues to bring them to their doom.
Even in the face of death, they fucking laugh.
Maybe she's lost her mind just a little.
1-2-3. 1-2-3.
Hedy sighs, one hand wrapped around the handle of the air pump and the other ensuring the needle stays put inside the Six boy's abdomen. Even now, he's being an utter nuisance, laughing as she continues to inflate him with air.
1-2-3. 1-2-3.
Another pump of air to his stomach leads to another garrulous laugh. Hedy thinks, What the actual fuck is this kid's problem. Sure, giggling is preferable to the shrill screams from the Eight girl in terms of pleasantness, but to have somebody laugh through their slow, painful demise, it feels like a mockery. Hedy Lovelace certainly did not come this far just to be mocked.
1-2-3. 1-2-3.
His stomach is inflated enough that the duct tape sealing off the air from his first wound and keeping the needle in place in the second one is beginning to tear. Unwilling to start this whole cycle of pain all over again, Hedy rips several long pieces of tape and uses them to better cover the holes. It's a bit finicky, the blood on Six's skin preventing the tape from sticking at times, but Hedy's determined to succeed in this scheme of hers.
To be honest, she's not completely sure where she got this idea. Perhaps it was the first glimpse she got of the pump when she was observing the Six girl dig through cabinets, or maybe her mind's always been a dark enough place that it'd give her the sheer audacity to do this.
(Hedy can't find it in herself to feel much guilt about the whole thing. The Six boy strangled her after causing a commotion at the Feast. He annoyed her for the better part of a day and assisted in restricting her. Hedy Lovelace is a fucking wildfire, and she does not take well to being restricted.)
She somewhat loathes how happy she feels as Six's face shifts from red to blue to purple. Hedy recognizes that yes, her rush of serotonin is undoubtedly fucked, but she feels so alive, moreso then she has in her entire sixteen years, that she simply does not care.
(The last time she felt like this, so jubilant and so blissful, was when she was standing over her father's dead body, a broken bottle in her hands and a twisted smile on her face. Nobody ever thought that she of all people would ever be capable of killing her own father, and even today, Hedy reckons those same naysayers doubted she'd ever do this.)
There's something thrilling in being the last one people suspect.
She tightness her hand around the pump and presses more air inside of Six. The skin on his abdomen continues to stretch and thin, yet the boy keeps fucking laughing. That's the only thing squandering her joy.
"Would you shut the fuck up?" Hedy says, her brows furrowed as she continues inflating him. "You're dying. That's not fucking supposed to be funny."
That just makes Six laugh even more, which in turn tempts Hedy to stab him in the throat, ending both of theirs suffering. But, she controls herself, because she of all people would never chicken out of something as glorious as this. Her only regret is Verdigris not being here to witness the defining moment where she entirely snaps, but she supposes the aftermath will be enough to further scar them.
1-2-3. 1-2-3.
Six grinds his teeth together as he further expands. Even though he's no longer laughing (likely 'cause he's no longer physically capable of it), his devious smile is enough to put Hedy on edge.
(She wonders, What would it have been like if father laughed as he died. Likely, she'd be just as upset as she currently is, because she's been taught time and time again that pain is something to be angry about. She's been taught that pain is a wicked motivator, and anything but a laughing matter.)
If he could speak, Hedy would've asked him by now, "Why do you seem to be enjoying this." But, the Six boy is voiceless, and thus her question is forced to go unanswered.
(Maybe Hedy's life would be better if she was less like herself and more like Six. She's certainly jealous of his twisted joy throughout all matters of life, especially considering anything and everything just sends her into despondency.)
His torso rises as though it's practically a sphere, the sound of his tendons ripping apart making him wince. Hedy firmly presses on his chest, attempting to dislodge his ribs from their sockets so that he can further expand from the air. She isn't sure if it's her hand or another pump of air, but eventually, she hears a loud crack from his chest.
1-2-3. 1-2-3.
Perhaps, Six is nearly ready to pop. Grunting, Hedy presses a dozen more pumps of air inside of him, the smiles on both of their faces widening with each one. By the time he's swollen to the point where she can no longer say she recognizes him, her hands are tired, yet she can't feel anything besides sheer glee.
Hedy sets the pump besides Six's body, the needle still secured beneath his flesh. She picks up the knife besides her and holds it over her stomach. With a smile, she looks into his eyes and begins counting down inside her head.
10.
Even though he's still smiling, Hedy can't help but notice the tears in Six's eyes.
9.
With a sniffle, he holds back his tears and winks at her.
8.
Hedy's palms go sweaty with fury over the fact he's still so content with dying. She wonders if she'll be able to say the same about herself once her time finally comes.
7.
Bile in his breath, Six spits into Hedy's eye. She recoils, but doesn't lose focus. Especially now, she can't lose focus.
6.
Six opens his mouth, trying to stick out his tongue even though he doesn't have one. Hedy doesn't move a muscle, instead glaring at him with eyes of judgement.
5.
She hisses at him wordlessly, the grin on her face curling downwards into a neutral expression. His breathing gets quicker as Hedy continues to stare him down.
4.
She spits back at him, her saliva landing in his eye and causing him to tear up once more. This time, he doesn't stop himself from crying.
3.
Whether or not he's actually feeling sorrowful or if the bruising on his face is too much for him is a mystery that Hedy'll never know the answer to, but regardless, Six's smile fades.
2.
He rapidly blinks, fear clearly in his eyes for the first time in this entire process. He looks pathetic, almost more so than Eight did as she slowly bled out.
1.
She recognizes his terrified expression as the same one her father had as she struck him in the head. As cruel as he was, Hugo was still full of hurt when Hedy took him out, because ultimately no human wants to die. Six is just the same, no longer forcing a smile and instead just trembling with disgust, uncertainty, and most importantly, utter dreads at what Hedy's about to do to him.
When she killed her father, Hedy loathed the idea of somebody being afraid of her, but this time, she fucking relishes it.
0.
She plunges the blade into Six's stomach, his skin popping like balloon and blood shooting into the air and raining down on the two of them. His intestines splatter onto her chest and Hedy does her best not to get disgusted by them. His scream is loud and terrifying, and for once, human. Regardless, Hedy doesn't pay attention to it. Instead, she happily stares at his hollow stomach, watching the crimson liquid spill out in front of her. It sprays onto her face and drips down her neck, yet she doesn't mind. If anything, she just feels powerful, more so than she has in her entire life.
When his cannon fires, Hedy can't help but laugh, cause he's been dead to her for nearly an hour. She wipes the chunks of his skin and guts off of her body, and stands under the fountain of his blood for a second more. She looks down and realizes that every last bit of her is drenched in Six's lifeblood, and that's enough to compel her to flip him over on his side.
She glances at a mirror on a wall, hardly recognizing herself with ratted hair and her entire body painting crimson, yet she feels more like herself than ever before.
Hedy once again picks up her knife, struggling for a moment to find it amidst the pool of Six's blood, then faces towards the door.
With a sinister snarl, she shouts at the sky, "Oh Gamemakers! I've gotten rid of your little problem child."
She tries to twist the door's handle, yet it's still stuck. "Don't you want to let me go?"
Hedy hears a click, then tries again, this time able to open the door and step outside into the underground city. She takes one final; look at the mess she made before slamming the door shut and taking a deep breath.
"You're next, Verdigris," she mutters under her breath. "And don't think I'll go light on you the same way I did with him."
This would've been way fucking easier if Icarus was in the cathedral where he was when she left him. But, Atlantis should know by now, the Hunger Games are just about the furthest possible thing from easy.
"Where the fuck is that little bitchboy?" Calsin screams, kicking the Cornucopia as if that's going to at all be useful to the two of them. A cannon fires, making him even louder and angrier. "I swear to fuck, if that was him."
"If that was him, then I'm happy." For once, Atlantis is the calm one in a situation in the Games. "Regardless of how it happens, Icarus being dead is a good thing."
"Don't you want to kill him yourself?" He asks, still not calming down. "After everything he's done to you, I think that you sort of deserve it."
Does she?
Despite how effective her talk with Calsin was yesterday in terms of boosting her own morale and making her feel a little less alone in this cruel world, Atlantis is still unconvinced she's a worthy human being. Even if the weight of what she did to Wulfie's been lifted off her chest, she can't help but feel heavy and full of despair. It's a different feeling now, though. She doesn't feel as guilty as she did yesterday, instead she's dreadful towards a situation where it could potentially come down to her and Calsin. In that situation, she'd be happy to kill herself to let him live, but she knows in her heart that Shane would kill him if she ever did that, and she doesn't want to endanger her with her own actions.
More than anyone here though, Atlantis firmly believes that Calsin does not deserve to die. He's proven himself to be nearly angelic to her, like the edgy asshole he once was has fully shifted into a golden boy, and really she's glad she saved him.
Even if she still thinks she deserves to die, Atlantis is glad that she could make a genuine friend before she does. And, while a part of her does still think that she deserves to die at Icarus' hands, he outwitted her fair and square after all, she doesn't necessarily want to. She recognizes the selfishness in basically gatekeeping her own death, but if she's going to die anyway, she'd prefer it be on her own terms.
She'd also prefer to see Icarus go up in flames before she does, even if she'd feel disgusting if she admitted it out loud.
Yet, Calsin admits it for her. "I know you do, Atlantis."
All she can do is nod.
"There's nothing wrong in wanting somebody dead," he drawls, his voice light and careless. "Believe me, I wanted you dead for months, and at the time, I was perfectly valid."
"Sorry about that—" Atlantis bites her lip to avoid over-apologizing. She takes a deep breath, then continues to say, "If I'm going to force death on anybody, it should be Shane, don't you think? He's the reason, or at least part of the reason, we're both so fucked up. He's the reason so much of Four is so utterly miserable. He deserves to die more than Icarus who mainly wronged me."
"That's not true," Calsin snaps at her. "You said that he was pretty awful to Lethia, and well… she's dead now." He points at Lethia's remains, lying on the ground even though she's been gone for days, and clearly at Icarus' hands. "Icarus was awful to Beowulf too. Kind of selfish of you to claim yourself his only victim."
Even though he's obviously joking, his words make Atlantis' stomach drop. She knows that there's so many mistakes that she's made, and it would be too much to fix all of them, but killing Icarus as vengeance for people she doesn't know almost feels wrong. She doesn't want to be the martyr for a bunch of strangers, but killing him for herself feels selfish.
"Or, you could just kill him because this is the Hunger Games," Calsin continues. If she didn't know him as well as she now does, she'd think he's mad at her, but really, he's just passionate, and rightly so. "How the hell do you plan on killing Shane if this isn't District Four?"
"You can kill him when you go back and win," she answers him.
He rolls his eyes. "You know that I'm dead as soon as I step foot in Four. His maniacs are going to punt me off a cliff the same way Lana Lotus did that one girl before I can even get a word in edgewise."
Despite Calsin making a damn good point, Atlantis eggs him on. "Yeah, well you'll have Peacekeeper and shit protecting you from them. I bet that they'd kill him for you if they found out that their precious little Victor was in danger."
"I want to kill him myself if you can't," he fires back. "Or, Crista can do it, but it doesn't fucking matter regardless because I'm not winning this, you are."
"I literally want to die," Atlantis hisses. "You think that my mental state would improve if I lived instead of you, somebody who actually deserves it?"
"Well, no…" He shrugs his shoulders. "But if you win, you can just kill Shane and then get executed."
"The rest of the Collective is still strong enough without Shane," she responds. "We can't get rid of them all unless we have a genocide or some shit, and at that point, we'd be just as bad as they are."
Calsin sighs. "You're right. I just… I wish there was a way to dispose of him. District Four deserves better."
"District Four is full of shit," Atlantis says. "When have they ever done anything good for you?"
"When they introduced me to Adrian," he speaks quickly, his face red with embarrassment over his own words. "You know, the one who isn't my boyfriend."
"You could've met him anywhere else," she argues.
"Wouldn't be the same," again, Calsin's words are rushed. "We wouldn't get to go surfing together, nor would we be able to sing under the boardwalk. We'd have never found those cats and saved them from drowning if there wasn't an ocean for them to drown in. Sure, things would be similar, but I am perfectly content with calling District Four good as long as Adrian's there. If either of us win, we have to agree to make Four a better place."
"The only thing I'm agreeing to is telling Adrian you're gay as fuck." Atlantis snickers, Calsin luckily joining her. "Saving District Four can come second."
"What about you?" He asks, somewhat ignoring her teasing. "Do you have somebody special back there?"
In spite of herself, Atlantis admits, "I did until I broke her heart."
She still is haunted by the idea of Alithiya watching her in the Games. She doesn't know if that image is worse, or the idea that Alithiya doesn't care enough to watch them at all.
"Not surprised," Calsin says with a snicker. "Tell me about her."
"She was like light itself." Now Atlantis is the one who's turning red. "I know that sounded stupid and cliché, but lord Alithiya was incandescent. She gave off this aura that I could only describe as… well… home, and I took all of that for granted. I wish I at least told her that I loved her."
"So you're gay as fuck too!" He mocks her earlier remark. "What do you say we crack a little deal?"
Atlantis nods wordlessly, prompting Calsin to continue. "If you make it back home, you tell Adrian that I love him and I always have. If I make it back home, I say the same thing to Alithiya. How does that sound?"
She sighs. "That sounds… very ideal."
"But, we're not going back home to tell our loved ones how much we love them with Icarus still alive," Calsin brings up their initial conversation topic. "Not to sound like a broken record, but we've got to kill him eventually. I can only assume that he's the biggest threat we have at this point."
"Fine." The heaviness that's been weighting Atlantis down suddenly subsides. "I'll put more effort into looking for him, because ultimately, you're right."
"I always am," Calsin teases. "Now, do you want to look around here a bit more, or do you want to go elsewhere."
Before Atlantis can respond, she hears a familiar laugh from the balcony. Instantly, she flinches and grabs onto Calsin's wrist.
"Going elsewhere would be pretty fucking stupid!" Icarus reveals himself from behind the railings, his devious smile still in tact. "I'm touched that you were considering not killing me though, and even more touched that you consider me such a big threat."
"I take that back," Atlantis stammers, retracting the sword from her belt and pointing it upwards and towards him. "I'm going to fucking demolish you, Icarus."
"Lethia said the same thing and now they're selling her organs in the Capitol for a million bucks a pop," Icarus responds with a laugh. "Well, not yet, but they will soon!"
She takes a deep breath and whispers in Calsin's ear, "I guess we're doing this then."
He takes out his own spear and smiles, "I guess the fuck we are!"
6th Place: Malin Mardari, District Six - killed by Hedy Lovelace
Yeah so yet again, a lot of shit went down. I hope you all enjoyed, or I don't know if enjoyed is the right word but I hope you all survived. We've just got two arena chapters left now! And only five tributes! This is so fucking exciting!
Haiden, I am sorry for doing that to Malin, even though you knew I was gonna do it to them. I enjoyed writing for them beyond what words can say, and I really do fucking miss them already.
Everyone else, thanks for reading and I'll see you soon.
Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds
The Leaderboard:
Lethia Aphelion: II
Icarus St. Augustine: III
Beowulf Haleot: I
Hedy Lovelace: I
Atlantis Seasbane: I
Calsin Verrillo: II
Verdigris Ahane-Volcain: I
Mozi Hongqi: II
Malin Mardari: II
Bud Bancroft: I
Vancouver Easton: III
The Arena: I