XLIII. On Shaky Grounds
And I have seen a ship direct and swift
Run o'er the sea throughout its course entire,
To perish at the harbor's mouth at last.
Not an hour goes by where she doesn't suffer.
It's been ten of them now, random parts of Atlantis' body aching senselessly as she curls up into a ball on the ground, hoping that if she closes her eyes and falls asleep, she'll wake up and feel better again. Whether that's alive in the arena or dead at the gates of hell, she no longer cares.
(During the few occasions where she does fall asleep, Atlantis dreams of dancing on the shore, the waves hitting her ankles as she twirls. She's completely alone, but yet she doesn't feel lonely. Instead, she's at peace, or, at least she is until she opens her eyes and is confronted with the reality that she's still real.)
"Atlantis," Calsin calls to her, his voice but a faint whisper as she awakes to disappointment for the umpteenth time. "How are you feeling?"
She mumbles, "like hell frozen over," but that's a mere underestimation of the torment that runs through her veins.
(Is it dramatic for Atlantis to say that she wishes that it hurt more? Possibly, but she's long learned that there's bountiful harm in ignoring the truth.)
Her ally frowns. "Is there anything that I can do to help you?"
Not when you've already helped me far more than I deserved… Her brain flickers back to him patching up her wounds and keeping her safe. She wishes she could just be blunt and tell him, "There's nothing you can do Calsin. I'm going to die, and I'm okay with that," but she knows it would make him break. Atlantis has already destroyed the entire world around her. There's no point in doing any more harm.
After a few seconds pass without her answering, Calsin continues, "I scoured the first aid kit for some sort of an anti-venom, because at this point, I'm just assuming you were poisoned, but no luck."
"That's ironic." She chuckles.
He raises his eyebrow in confusion.
"I always said that I was toxic, didn't I?"
Her words don't garner any reaction from him save for a defeated sigh.
"It's funny, Calsin. You're allowed to laugh."
He doesn't, instead asking her, "How do you think this happened?"
Would it be bad if I said that I don't really care? Atlantis muses to herself, her lips pressed firm into a line. Even if it was Icarus, he's too dead now to get the last laugh about it.
(Maybe he was right when he said life is better lived if you embrace your monstrosities. Maybe if Atlantis had done the same, she'd be less hurt by this humbling reminder that no matter what she does, she'll always be alive.)
"I'm tired," she says, ignoring Calsin's question and lying on the ground once more. A mix of misery and nausea swirls in her stomach as she lets out a pained groan despite all efforts not to.
He tucks a strand of Atlantis' hair behind her ear and sighs. "You can sleep, but I'm worried that if you do, you'll die on me."
Why don't you realize that that's exactly what I want to do? She figures though, deep down inside, Calsin does. He just, refuses to let her go, even though she hasn't had ahold of herself since the day she met Shane Odeen.
"So what if I do?" She whispers back to him. "You'll go on and win the Games, and then you'll change the world. I'm just holding you back at this point. Besides, you'll forget me eventually."
"That's not true," Calsin scoffs, his tone sharp. "You could never hold me back, Atlantis. You're apart of me now, remember? That's why I'll never forget you too."
"If you really were, you'd know the best thing you can do for me right now is let me go," she mutters, trying not to wince at the burning sensation in her palms. "Please, Calsin. Just, let me go."
"I refuse to."
Atlantis closes her eyes and grunts in exasperation. She hopes that the next time she opens them, Calsin Verrillo's gone and doing other better things than waiting on her in all her sorrow, even if she knows that's unrealistic of her to think.
(This time, Atlantis dreams that she's a little kid pretending to be a pirate on a boat she borrowed with Talquin. They sail along the shallow end of Four's ocean, laughing as the wind ruffles through their hair, skin stretching to force a smile.
"I wish we could stay here forever," her twin brother tells her once they're far enough from the shores that their parents can't hear. "Just think Attie! Wouldn't it be nice if it were just the two of us, and we didn't have to worry about what mom or dad said, and we didn't have to hide under the bed in fear of what they're going to do?"
"It would be the closest possible thing to heaven on earth," comes her reply. "Tally, do you think someday we'll see heaven for real?"
"Possibly," Talquin quips. "But honestly, I've started to think that heaven isn't real."
"Why's that?"
"In order for heaven to exist, there also has to be a hell." That's when he delivers the tragic, undeniable truth. "There can't possibly be anything worse than the place we live now."
Atlantis nods, masking her frustration. "At least we have here and now. At least we have each other."
"That's true." He turns around and wraps her in his warm embrace. "That'll always be more than enough for me."
As she fades back into consciousness, she hears Talquin whisper, "I promise Attie; I'll never let you sink.)
When she opens her eyes, Calsin hasn't moved. Again, she sighs at him.
"What?" He says. "I already told you that I wasn't going to leave you. I don't understand why you're surprised I'm still here."
She knows that the two of them aren't related by blood, but the more she studies his face, the more his features morph into Talquin's, his words beginning to sound just like her brother's dreamed-up promise.
"I'm not," Atlantis admits. "I just wish you weren't."
"Why's that?" Calsin's brows furrow. "Even if you do die, I refuse for it to happen while you're alone. You don't deserve that, Atlantis."
"Call me Attie," she whispers, her voice hardly audible. "It's what Alithiya and Talquin call me back in Four."
He nods, then repeats himself, "You don't deserve that, Attie."
She never thought she'd let Calsin Verrillo use the name her mother used to ridicule her, yet now it sounds natural on his tongue.
"You're wrong," Atlantis replies.
"Would Alithiya and Talquin be happy if I let you die alone?"
The worst thing is, she doesn't know. She's long gotten over the idea that the only two people from home that she actually cares about are obliged to watch her in all her suffering, and a part of her doesn't want them to see it either. Even though Alithiya and Talquin have seen her in all her lowest moments, she'd like her unbreakable image to be the one that they remember.
But, Atlantis gives Calsin the answer that he's clearly looking for. "They wouldn't."
"Exactly."
She winces, the air trapped in her throat making it harder than necessary for her to breathe. More than ever, Atlantis Seasbane doesn't want to be alive. If living was painful, slowly dying is cataclysmic.
"Can you do something for me?" She pleads, tilting her head the best she can so that she can look up and into Calsin's eyes.
"Depends what that something is?"
Using all of the strength left in her body, Atlantis begs him. "I need you to kill me. I need you to prove to Shane that he was wrong to liken me to a goddess. I need you to prove to him that I'm human, and he can't keep turning people into celestial beings."
(More stubbornly, Atlantis refuses to die to Icarus' manipulations, even if she said that it's what she deserved.)
"I can't do that," Calsin shrieks. "Attie, I can't."
"It's my dying wish," she groans, trying to prevent her body from convulsing on the ground. "Please Calsin, I need you too."
She wiggles her finger to point at the sword on the ground a few feet away from them. "Just make it painless. I've hurt for eighteen years, and I don't want to hurt any longer."
His eyes dart back and forth, signaling that he's still dubious on what to do. He takes an extended glance at the sword, and sighs before picking it up with in his hands, sweat visibly dripping off his fingers.
"Are you sure?" Calsin asks her, his voice wavering. "I need you to be sure, Attie."
Atlantis nods. "I'm more of sure than I have been of anything my entire life."
"Okay then." He inhales, then lifts the blade over her throat. "Thank you for being willing to talk to me, by the way. Because of you, I've learned more about myself than I ever though possible. Whether you like it or not, Attie, your memory is going to live on with me for as long as I do."
There's so much that she wants to say, so much that she wants to thank him for, but the swelling in her throat only allows her to utter a single sentence, "Thank you for not seeing me as a villain."
A single tear from Calsin's eye hits Atlantis' neck before his blade does. As he slices vertically through her skin, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
"It's all over now," an unrecognizable voice tells her. "This isn't heaven and it isn't hell, but it's the place where people like us end up. You're no longer in pain; how does it feel?"
For once, Atlantis Seasbane is truly, unequivocally, blissful. For once, the girl swept from the shores can say that she's found salvation in herself.
He hasn't truly cried in three years, yet the moment Atlantis' cannon sounds, Calsin Verrillo burst into hysterics like he's an infant. He calls out her name with a guttural scream, hoping his own voice will muffle the blare that announced her passing, but is left unsatisfied.
Calsin knows she's dead. For the past twelve hours, her life has been a ticking time-bomb, but the reverberating finality makes it all feel a thousand times more real.
He wipes the little blood she shed on the leg of his pants and drops the sword to the ground besides him. Though he tries to use the sleeves of his shirt to blot his tears from his eyes, fresh ones appear in their place almost instantaneously, rending her already futile efforts completely useless.
At least she looks peaceful… That's something Calsin's never been able to say about Atlantis Seasbane before. Even in her most mellow moments, everything she did was laced with misery, like she knew that her time was coming to an end, and she regretted everything she'd done with her life. In death, at least Attie looks satisfied with the life she led.
He tucks the loose strands of hair behind her ears and straightens out the wrinkles and folds on her shirt. Calsin licks his fingers and uses the saliva to clean the wound her left on her throat, her dried blood washing away from her skin with ease. He knows that there won't be a hovercraft coming to lift her from the arena, at least not one that he knows about, considering the cathedral's floor is still littered by cadavers from the bloodbath, so the least he can do is make sure she looks humane.
When he steps away from her body, Calsin can't stop himself from crying even more. His mind flickers back to earlier in the Games when he was face to face with Ellie's corpse yet wasn't able to shed more than a few tears, a memory which only makes him feel worse about now. While he's long admitted that the twin flame bruise Attie left on his soul is far more prominent than anything Ellie ever gave him, a visceral reminder was wildly unnecessary.
Calsin knew that in order for him to live, Atlantis would have to die, but he was terribly willing to throw himself off of the clouds if it meant avoiding this.
How typical of you, his mind jeers him on. You were willing to die just so you wouldn't have to face your own emotions. What a fucking coward!
He shivers, then tries to tell his inner demons to "shut the fuck up," yet without Atlantis at his side, he's forced to face them. The weight of her sacrifice weighs heavy on his shoulders, same with everything she's ever said to him, and in all honesty, Calsin feels undeserving.
After all, he was supposed to be the sacrifice. He isn't supposed to be standing over her dead body, unable to stop crying, even though he's the one who killed her.
You didn't kill her, though, Calsin reminds himself. All you did was set her free. She wanted you to set her free.
That doesn't change the fact that the blood on his hands seems to have seeped through his skin and tainted his soul.
The fact he was so upset when he killed Ellie feels ridiculous now. He really thought that her death would be the extent of his pain in here, but it was hardly a scratch compared to the torment he's now been dealt. Even if he's able to make it out of here and back to Four, he'll be nothing more than a ghost of the man he was when he entered the arena. He thought that by healing himself, he'd be prepared for any possible reality, but acknowledging his emotions has somehow only made him weaker.
Never in a million years did Calsin think that he'd feel so weak again.
"Where are you going?" It's the middle of the night, and Calsin's shouting at his brother Sevilin who's outside his bedroom window.
The older boy's dressed in all black and carrying a large backpack. Even though most of his face is covered by the tightened hood of his sweatshirt, Calsin can still make out the nervous look on his face.
Sev turns back at him and shrugs. "Wherever the night takes me, I guess."
"Are you coming back?"
His heart is beating out of his chest, his brain flooded with the uncertainty of this situation, and his nails keep digging into his wrist, hoping that they'll wake him up from what must be a nightmare.
"No idea," Sev responds. "Probably not."
Calsin hits his own thigh in rage —this can't be happening— and rapidly blinks in an attempt to hold back his tears. Sevilin is his idol after all, and Calsin refuses to let him see him in a state of desperation.
He asks his brother, "Why?"
Sev's answer is more unpleasant than anything Calsin could've expected to hear. "Nobody loves me here, Sin. I know that you say you do, but so do mom and dad… and they clearly don't, so why would I believe you?"
"I do love you," Calsin blurts out.
He might as well have not said anything though, because Sevilin continues as if his words meant nothing. "You can try to convince me all you want, but I'm not going to budge. I'm sorry Sin, but I need to go where I'm actually appreciated. You and the rest of the family can't give me that."
Before Calsin can say anything else, Sev further tightens his hoodie and runs off, becoming one with the night sky. He closes his window and begins to sob without a second of hesitation.
I can't believe I let him go…
Calsin doesn't sleep that night. Instead, he nearly drowns in his own melancholia, but when morning comes, he rises from his bed and swears, I won't let anybody else go ever again…
His promise doesn't prevent him from crying under the covers every day for a month. It doesn't prevent him from feeling so weak and useless.
"I let her go, didn't I?" Calsin whispers to himself. He balls his hands into a fist and lets his fingernails dig into his palms. "Holy fuck, why did I let her go?"
Again, he's forced to remind himself, This is what Atlantis wanted me to do.
He can already tell, the longer he stays here, the longer his brain is going to spiral into feelings of grief and guilt, but at the same time, Calsin isn't sure where else he can go. Even if he leaves her body behind, he fears her ghost is going to follow him around, taunting him with everything wrong he's done.
As if she's still alive, Calsin crouches down and asks her, "What do you think I should do?"
He waits for her to respond, even though he knows that's impossible. Never in a million years did he think that he'd miss the voice of Atlantis Seasbane, but lord knows, Calsin would do anything to hear it again, even if it were in the form of an insult or a threat. He'd do anything and everything for just another moment with her, yet now they're both ghosts and they're universes away.
Calsin only looks away from her body for a quarter of a second before giving into his temptation to get another look at her. How the hell am I supposed to leave her?
He tries to think about what Atlantis would say if she's alive, but for the most part, his mind just draws a blank. His one comprehensible thought is just one which highlights the irony in the fact he's now struggling to fulfill a promise in living for somebody he escaped the fate of dying for.
Calsin cries again, because deep down inside, he knows that the best course of action is to leave her behind and venture onwards and upwards. He knows that it's what she'd want him to do as well, and if it's what Atlantis would've wanted, the least he can do is follow through.
More than anything, Calsin has to win. It's not just for himself or Adrian anymore; he has to win for her.
Before he leaves her though, he makes one last promise.
I'll get out of here, I promise I'll get out of here. Oh mighty universe, I'll let the Collective fall and Atlantis' memory be proof of why it should. I'll be the final current of the riptide no matter what it takes. I'll get her revenge, I have to.
He wipes the tears from his eyes and presses them on her skin. Soon, they'll all know my name, not as the sullen sacrifice, but as the one who rose above oppression like a shattered storm, destroying everything wrong in his path to bring justice to the world. Soon, all of Four will become my perfect union, my beacon of peace upon a country riddled by atrocity. No matter what, it'll happen.
Calsin finally gathers the strength to step away from her, muttering under his breath as he walks, "Everything is going to be okay, Attie. I just made a promise with the universe."
(But if Four's waters can't keep their promises, who's to say the universe will instead?)
Every passing cannon shot feels almost like a fever dream.
Holy shit, is all that Verdigris can think when the first one of the Games' ninth day fires. That means there's— they count on their fingers— three of us left now?
The fact twenty-one people have died in here and they aren't one of them is sobering. Though they have no idea who just died, Verdigris almost feels guilty for being alive instead of them, assuming they're not Hedy of course.
Again though, a slightly malicious part of them hopes that Hedy's still alive, 'cause they deserve to be the one who brings about the downfall of that virago.
They sigh, their back leaned against a barrel of hay in the farmhouse where they've taken shelter as they realize, Hedy not being dead would actually be advantageous if I want to win. Grudges aside, one of the Fours being dead would mean one of Verdigris' most powerful opponents is gone. Hedy is capable in her own right, but she doesn't have that same advantage of being formally educated in the art of war like the Fours do. If Verdigris only had to go up against one trained killer, that would certainly be the most ideal situation.
It's twisted that they're even thinking like this, about who is and who isn't the most optimal combination of people for them to potentially kill. Granted, this is how they have to think if they want to survive, even if they're not so sure they're worthy of such a thing.
Verdigris also wonders, What now?
Are they just supposed to sit around, waiting for another Tribute to find them in their farm hideout? Are they supposed to leave in search of other Tributes who they'll then kill? Both doing something and doing nothing seem equally risky. If somebody finds them here, Verdigris is afraid that they'll be killed, but if they have to kill another without directly being in danger, they're afraid that they won't be able to do it. Especially if it's not Hedy.
Verdigris rummages through the barn's supply chest. For the most part, it's riddled with food and water, and while that's definitely appreciated, they get the feeling that the Games are going to be over sooner rather than later, and they've eaten and drank enough to not worry about dying of natural causes. At this point, they can't even say they're hungry.
They do however, take advantage of the clean shirt they find, buttoning it over the shirt they were given at the beginning of the Games. Compared to a lot of the people they've seen, Verdigris' shirt is relatively clean, only stained by the blood of the Eight girl, but still covering it up is nice, as they really don't need the reminder of the awful thing they've done, especially not now.
With the shirt no longer in the supply chest, Verdigris is able to find a small metal device. They pick it up, noting that it feels lightweight in their hands. There's a small lid at the top of the thing, so they flip it backwards, revealing a small tube and a button. So it's a lighter then, Verdigris realizes, putting it in their pocket just in case they may need it for later. Good to know…
Everything else in the supply chest is just as useless as the food and the water, but Verdigris still feels satisfied with their findings. They may be without an actual weapon, but having something more capable than killing than their fists is reassuring. Of course, there's also the vial, which is now tucked in between their two shirts. Verdigris doesn't know if whatever substance is inside it is actually poisonous, and perhaps they never will, since they're far too wise to test it on themselves.
They've been weaving pieces of the hay barrel together for the past few hours, hoping to form some sort of a rope, but they've been for the most part unsuccessful, which is unfortunate. They just feel so dreadfully unprepared for any sort of confrontation, and sure they've been lucky to survive off of basically nothing up until now, but at some point, their luck is going to run out, and they'd prefer to have something practical.
They press pick up the lighter again and press the button, watching as a small flame rises from the tube. At least I know how this works, they muse. It still doesn't feel like much. Verdigris digs behind the hay barrels, hoping to find something else, but all they find is a small metal chain. Maybe they'd be able to hit somebody with it in a pinch? They give it a little swing, noting that it doesn't reach far, but possibly enough to stun somebody too close to them.
Wherever the rest of the Games take them, there's going to be a heavy emphasis on playing defense until they grab a weapon from somebody else. It's an unconventional strategy, but Verdigris Ahane-Volcain has lived their entire life as an unconventional person. For fucks sake, they have two dads and didn't go to school past the age of twelve. If anybody can succeed in such odd circumstances, it has to be them.
(They might not be worthy, but at this point they obviously have to try, right?)
Again, Verdigris debates whether or not they should leave the barn. If Hedy's still alive alongside one of the Fours, she could potentially tire one into giving up, or even get herself killed, but if she's dead, the Fours are probably targeting Verdigris. Hell, Hedy's likely more concerned with killing them than they are killing a Career. The barn is quite far from the cornucopia, as far as they're aware, and there's not many ways for them to get away if somebody attacks.
Hmm… Verdigris clicks their tongue against the roof of their throat. Maybe it's best that I get out of here.
Unfortunately, they don't get a choice.
They hear a knock on the door and instantly duck underneath the hay barrels. With their hands in fists, they conceal their chain and their lighter and peer over their barrier to get a good look at whoever it is that'll enter the room.
Verdigris winces as the door begins to inch open, revealing a rather petite figure. Shit.
While the person has the same features as Hedy, other than that, she's completely different. For the record, she is Hedy. She's not a clone or anything, she's just… twisted. Not an inch of her skin hasn't been stained red with what Verdigris assumes is blood, the blue in her eyes seemingly about to pop out at them. Her hairs sticky and disheveled, and Hedy Lovelace overall looks nothing like the sly girl Verdigris met on the first day of training. Instead, she's a monster in the body of a girl.
As soon as Verdigris fully takes her in, they can't stop themselves from gasping.
"Oh, so somebody is in here," Hedy drawls, scanning the room for them. "I'd reveal yourself if I were you. The sooner you do, the sooner I can get to killing you."
Their stomach drops. Something's clearly happened with Hedy since the last time they were face to face, and now they're more horrified than ever.
"What a coward," the Three girl scoffs, walking over to the hay barrels. "All you're doing right now is asking to become a tragedy."
Verdigris hunches over, their hand balled into a fist above their head.
"So it is you in here."
They listen as Hedy's footsteps get closer and closer. A voice in their head is telling them that in some capacity, this is the end. It makes them shiver. Unsure whether or not she's armed, Verdigris unravels the chain in their palm and swings it forwards. They hear a clash, then look over to see Hedy grabbing onto her now-bleeding nose.
In any other situation, now would be the time where they run away, but the time has finally arose for them to face their demons head on.
Verdigris rises to their feet and asks her, "What the hell happened to you?"
"I killed the Six boy," Hedy says, still cupping her hands around her nose. "Inflated him with a balloon pump and laughed as he popped."
"The fuck?" Their brow furrows in confusion. "You did what?"
"You had to see it to believe it," she sneers, wiping her nostrils against her wrist. "I could do something similar to you if you'd like."
"I'm going to have to say no to that one," Verdigris swings their leg at Hedy's stomach, making her hunch over in pain. "But I really do—" they punch her in the jaw "—appreciate the offer."
Hedy bounces off the ground as if she wasn't injured at all. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a dull knife, dried blood coating the tip. "How funny. You think you have a choice."
"You're not going to get me, Hedy." They duck, avoiding the first strike of her blade.
They open their palm to ensure that they didn't drop their lighter and sigh. It's now or never…
She refuses to let this be the end.
For fucks sake, it will not be the end, because Hedy Lovelace refuses to die to somebody as pathetic as Verdigris Ahane-Voclain.
Hedy drives her knife at their left shoulder for the second time, this time making enough contact to tear through their shirt and cause a small trickle of blood down their chest.
Verdigris grunts wordlessly, looking at their injury for a split second before bending their leg and thrusting their knee in between Hedy's legs, sending her backwards.
She spits at the ground, then barrels her elbows at the Five Tribute's chest, pushing them against the hay, straws flying into the air upon impact. Again, Verdigris kicks her, but this time, Hedy remains in place, even though her chest is burning with pain.
"Get over yourself," she scoffs, extending her wrist so she can drag her knife down the left side of their chest.
Verdigris unravels their metal chain again, this time whipping it at Hedy's cheek. "I think you're the one who needs to get over themselves."
"I didn't ask for your opinion." Hedy digs her knife deeper, laughing as Verdigris winces in pain. "Why don't you understand that you're fucking irrelevant to this arena? It's time for you to go."
"As if people like you any more," they taunt her, the ball of their foot making contact with her chest again. "You're actually crazy, Hedy."
Though she doesn't want them to, Verdigris' words sting her as she falls backwards and onto the ground. At what point did her life spiral into such a tragedy? Was it when her mother died? Was it the first time her father pushed her? Was it when her name was called at the Reaping? Since when has everything Hedy Lovelace has done so clearly reflected the tragedy in her blood?
Verdigris stands up and kicks Hedy again, this time striking at her stomach. Though she's not dying, nor is she close as far as she's considered, bile rises in her throat. She reaches at Verdigris' collar and pulls them close to her, letting her saliva swirl in her throat before spitting it at their chest. She twists the fabric, hoping to strangle them but ultimately being restricted when they whip her in the neck.
Hedy gulps, uncontrollably spitting at them again. "Knock it off!"
"I'm not your pet." Verdigris' brow furrow as they reach their hands into Hedy's hair and pull downwards. "You're not allowed to fucking treat me like one."
She growls as the Five Tribute rips her hair from her scalp. "Fuck you!"
"Please, go fuck yourself," they respond, hitting Hedy in the jaw again.
She feels one of her teeth loosening in her mouth, and all it takes is another swing for it to fully tear away. The metallic taste of blood covers Hedy's tongue as she spits a combination of phlegm and crimson at Verdigris' face, the tooth flying out of her mouth at the same time.
The Five Tribute continues, "Why are you so obsessed with me anyway?"
(Because you're who I could've been. I could've been a good person despite my father's abuse. I could've held my ground and resulted to things besides violence. It's my own fault that I've become such an unfortunate, and now there's no going back. It's too late… I'm fucking falling. I'm digging my own path to hell, and for some fucked up reason, I actually want to.)
"Funny of you to think that," Hedy hisses, angling one of her hands behind Verdigris' neck and pushing their head close to hers. She sinks her remaining teeth into their flesh, spitting the remaining blood in their mouth down their neck.
Verdigris punches her in the stomach to free themself. "No, I think that you actually are obsessed with me."
They wipe the bile from their neck and chest as Hedy wraps one hand around their wrist and pins them to the wall. She lungs, sturdying her stance on the ground before plunging her knife into Verdigris' thigh. Their blood splatters against Hedy's chest, not that in makes a difference since she's already completely covered by the aftermath of the boy from Six.
She hears a flickering noise, then tilts her head to see that Verdigris is holding a lighter in the hand she's pinned. The small device emits a flame as Hedy screams, "What the hell are you doing with that?"
Verdigris flicks their wrist backwards, the fire from the lighter hitting the wall behind them. They grind their teeth together and barrel forwards, knocking Hedy off of them and onto the ground.
"You fucking coward," she scoffs, watching as the flames consume the walls, their light casting a daunting shadow onto the ground.
"I'm not a coward, I'm just practical," Verdigris says as they run towards the barn's door.
Hedy rises to her feet, adrenaline concealing the pain that runs its course throughout her body as she follows them.
As the building continues to burn, Hedy chases Verdigris through a field of crops, the Five Tribute running in a zigzag pattern so that they can't be caught. They make their way over to the bridge, and attempt to set it on fire just the same.
Unfortunately for them and fortunately for Hedy, it's not made of anything flammable, so their efforts are futile, only allowing Hedy to get closer to them. She kicks them in the back, forcing them to fly forwards and onto the ground.
She hears them mutter "shit" under their breath before they get back up. Hedy meets their eyes with her knife, cutting into their chin without hesitation. They kick at her stomach, but she stays still, trying to drag the blade deeper and into their throat.
Once again, Verdigris presses the button on their lighter to emit a flame, this time directing it towards Hedy's fingertips. She feels her skin bubble, her eyes beginning to tear up in agony as she's given no choice but to retract the blade from Verdigris' chin.
They push Hedy off of them, then continuing running over the bridge and into a field of flowers. Hedy sprints with heavy strides in order to follow them, but they simply kneel down and set the field ablaze.
Verdigris increases their pace, but Hedy is able to jump over one of the burning flowers, the bottoms of her shoes melting in the flames. As her heart beats faster and faster, Hedy screams, "You better get back here!"
"Why's that?" The Five Tribute calls from ahead of her. "Are you afraid that I'm going to kill you? For once, are you afraid that somebody besides you may actually succeed?"
Hedy runs towards them, tackling them onto the ground as the flames get closer and closer to them both. "If I go down, you're coming with me, you little rat."
She tries to stab them in the spin, but before she can, Verdigris frees their leg from underneath her and kicks her in the skull. Hedy's vision blurs as they crawl out from underneath her, leaving her just inches away from a fiery demise.
Even if the Five Tribute's flames have managed to turn this heavenly arena into a hellish domain, Hedy Lovelace refuses to die to them. She pushes her palms into the ground, lifting herself upwards and allowing her to run. Sparks brush against her pant legs, holes burning and touching her flesh.
With every ounce of spite left in her body, Hedy maneuvers herself over the bridge, kneeling over with a deep breath once she reaches the island with the cathedral.
"Where the fuck are you?" She screams, senselessly sprinting into the building only to see absolutely nobody. Instead, she hears burning once more, so she looks to see that the few walls left of the cathedral after the explosion are now covered in flames.
Hedy quickly leaves the building, but screams again, "Verdigris Ahane-Voclain, come out of wherever you're hiding and fight me like an adult. I'm so fucking done with your childish Games.
She sees a small figure on an island in the distance, the one housing the ice cave where all their feuding began, so she runs towards it. As she journeys across the bridge, pain evaporates through her entire body. Hedy looks down to see that her pants have burned to the point where they're now more like shorts, the skin underneath them orange and raw.
"Fuck you!" Hedy screams as she collapses to the grown in agony, using her palms to drag her body over the bridge.
Her stomach burns from the friction of her shirt against the ground, but she does her best to grin and bear it. By the time she's reached the other side at her sluggish pace, Verdigris is out of Hedy's sight.
Instead, she sees a glimpse of a taller figure, one that she doesn't think has seen her. Right as she's about to get up, Hedy again feels a sharp rush of pain, so she's forced to the ground once more.
Though she's reached a clear bump in the road, she's still determined to come out of this mess victoriously. As much as she hurts, Hedy Lovelace won't give up until Verdigris hurts twenty times as much.
4th Place: Atlantis Seasbane, District Four - killed by Icarus Schuyler St. Augustine and Calsin Verrillo
Well then, that certainly was a chapter. Personally, I'm fucking miserable. If you know me, you know how much Attie means to me, so obviously I was crying like a little bitch girl as I killed her. I've already ranted to Dawn a billion times regarding how important this gal is to me, but it bears repeating that writing for her has been without a doubt, one of the best experiences in my writing career (if I can even call it one) thus far. Thank you times a billion for her, and I'll try not to cry even more when I write her eulogy eventually. That is a lie however, I will cry like a little baby bitch girl. As a side note, I have credited both Icarus and Calsin with killing her, as Calsin never would've had to mercy kill her if it weren't for Icarus' poison, but at the same time, he did deliver the final blow.
I truly can't believe we've finally reached the Tributes for our finale. From the beginning, it's always been Hedy, Calsin, and Verdigris as my Final 3, no matter how much shifted around them. Congratulations to RB, Dyl, and Haiden for creating such well-rounded dynamic characters that I've always been so excited to write for. No matter which one of these three comes out victorious, I hope you know how important your kids are to me, and that they'll stick with me for a long time.
That being said, we still do have a finale to get to. First though, I have a little interlude moment, because both Liana Taylor and Crista Cray have thoughts on all that has transpired these past nine weeks. That and, well the cathedral which houses an abundance of dead bodies is currently burning to the ground, and everyone receiving an urn instead of a coffin would piss Liana off, so she will be handling that. Crista just… well you will see on Wednesday.
To build proper hype for the finale which I will drop on Friday, I will not be writing an AN for the interlude, which means I have some questions to ask you now. Don't worry though, they're basic and generic, I'm just curious.
1. Who do you think is going to win?
2. Who do you personally want to win?
3. If you could have anybody else in this finale, who would it be?
You don't have to answer the questions btw it would just be fun and cool if you did, even just on Discord. Thank you as always to everyone who has been following this incredible journey, and I hope you're just as satisfied with how it ends as I am.
Also, congrats to ACD for now being my longest fic on this website. I feel like I am fucking insane, and that's probably because I am.
Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds
The Leaderboard:
Lethia Aphelion: II
Icarus St. Augustine: V
Beowulf Haleot: I
Hedy Lovelace: I
Atlantis Seasbane: I
Calsin Verrillo: III
Verdigris Ahane-Volcain: I
Mozi Hongqi: II
Malin Mardari: II
Bud Bancroft: I
Vancouver Easton: III
The Arena: I