To the Death
Thanks for the reviews! I promise you're going to find out why Dean's acting like this, but not just yet. Sorry! Enjoy! Hermione's POV
I couldn't look at her. I couldn't bring myself to look at the woman who saved me, the woman who lost her life because of me. A sudden rush of adrenaline ran through me. I don't know if it was from the shock or from the sense of absolute grief and sorrow I felt at that moment.
Penelope's backpack had fallen to the ground when her body hung from the tree. I quickly crawled forward, my shaking hands grasping the small zipper. The backpack was filled with knives. I grabbed one of them, immediately feeling disgusted with myself for stealing from the dead. Penelope would understand, though.
Penelope. Ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I stood, making my way to the tree. I grasped the branch above me and pulled myself up a bit, just enough to reach the rope of weeds. Holding myself up with one shaking arm, I cut the rope with a harsh sawing motion, desperate to cut her down. Penelope deserved to win. She had a husband and children waiting for her to come home. Tears stung my eyes as I thought of the children that would never see their mother again. It was too late. Penelope was gone, I was still alive. I still had a chance.
Penelope's body fell gently to the ground. I jumped down from the tree and knelt in front of her. For a moment, I just stared at her, hoping to God that she was okay. My mind was surely playing tricks on me, because I could've sworn I saw her chest rise.
I drew a shocked breath and spoke to her in a shaking voice. "P-Penelope? Can you hear me?" No response. No breath, nothing.
I shook my head roughly, tears falling out of my eyes. I let out a scream and pounded on her chest with my fist, desperately trying to wake her up. "Come on, Penelope please! You have children waiting for you at home!" I emphasized every word with a hard pound on her chest. I paused for a moment and stared at her unmoving body. I screamed in frustration and hit her one more time, desperate to get her heart to beat again.
I collapsed on her body in a heap of heart wrenching sobs. All of the horrible things I'd gone through, all of the things I'd been forced to deal with came crashing down on me in that small frame of time. I promised myself that I wouldn't kill or hurt anybody. As time wore on, that promise became less and less of a priority.
I heard the sound of a cannon explode through the arena, signaling Penelope's death. I slowly crawled off of her body and stood on shaking legs, looking at her one last time.
"Thank you." I whispered under my breath. I picked up her backpack and hitched it over my shoulder. I was ready now. I was ready to avenge everybody. I was ready to kill Dean. I turned back to my destination. The giant lake.
With one knife held cautiously in front of me, I began to walk toward the lake, my speed increasing with every step. I furrowed my brow as I got closer to the shore. There was a human-like figure standing at the other side of the lake.
My heart slowly filled with fear as I stared at the figure across the lake. What was that? It seemed human, but it seemed very ghostly as it stared at me. The snapping sound of a branch sounded behind me and I quickly whipped my head around to see what it was. There was nothing there. I debated whether to investigate the snapping sound or try to find out what was on the other side of the lake. Either way, I'd probably end up dead, so it didn't really matter to me.
Another branch snapped behind me and I quickly made my decision. I put the backpack down and grabbed one knife, in case I needed to defend myself from the thing across the lake. I took my shoes off quickly and snapped my head up to look across the lake. The figure stood in the same position as it did earlier, yet it felt…. closer.
I dipped my toes in the cold lake, uncertainty creeping up in me. I looked at the figure again. The figure was ankle deep in the water….just like I was. I began to shake, not from the cold of the water, but from fear.
I kept my eyes on the figure, watching it closely as I ventured deeper into the freezing water, chills creeping up my spine with every step. I was now chest deep in the water, fear boring into my heart with every beat. The figure was mirroring me, now chest deep into the water. For some reason, I was mesmerized by the fear it produced in me. My mind was telling me to get out of the water and think of a different plan, but something else was urging me to get to the other side of the lake.
I was now treading water with great difficulty. The figure raised its arm and pointed a long, bony finger to the water. I furrowed my brow and looked down under the gentle waves. My heartbeat increased as I saw a small square shape. It was trapped under a rock at the bottom of the lake, fluttering gracefully with the impact of the gentle waves above.
There was something on the small square. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what was on the mysterious square. My heart gave a leap. No. It couldn't be! My mind frantically begged me to see reason, but I wouldn't have any of it.
The photograph of my family rested at the bottom of the lake.
My heart sped up with excitement. I looked up from the water to look at the figure in the water. It was gone.
I looked around quickly, thinking that this might be a trap. For some reason, I put it in the back of my mind, making the photograph my top priority.
I looked around one last time before taking a deep breath and plunging into the water. My eyes stung when I opened them, feeling as if they were freezing over inside their sockets. Bubbles surrounded me in a graceful dance as I ventured deeper into the freezing water. The photograph got closer and closer and I could make out the individual heads of ginger hair. My chest began to constrict and I knew I would need to go back up to the surface for air, so I swam a bit faster to the bottom. My heart sped up as my fingers grazed the small black rock that trapped my only source of comfort. With little effort, I pushed the rock off of the photograph, freeing it at last.
My shaking fingers grasped the photograph gently. In that moment, my heart swelled with warmth that I can't even describe, a sense of peace that can't be put into words. That feeling was soon replaced with a burning feeling in my lungs. I began to kick to the surface quickly, my lungs burning with the lack of air they desperately craved. I was almost to the surface, my fingers emerging from the water.
Suddenly, something pulled me violently by the ankle, forcing me deeper underwater. I kicked harshly, trying desperately to escape the clutches of my attacker. I was failing, miserably. The surface was becoming a mere memory as I was dragged to the depths of the cold lake. The familiar feeling of unconsciousness began to overtake me. I gave one last look at the photograph before letting it slip from my weak fingers. I watched with a broken heart as it fluttered and danced gracefully in the crushing blackness of the serene lake.
I suddenly felt myself being pushed up to the surface, the feeling of being dragged to my death leaving me. So this is what dying feels like. I thought to myself. I felt the cool air on my face as my head emerged from the surface. I took a rasping breath of the freezing air. Wait. I wasn't dead? How could I not be dead? Who was that?
My thoughts filled with panic and surprise as I splashed around, looking around, desperate for answers. I struggled to keep myself afloat as I looked back under the surface to see if my attacker had shown himself.
My heart exploded with confusion and fear as a flash of ginger hair quickly swam under me.