A/N: Sorry for the delay folks! I've been busy with school, but I'll be on break for a few weeks. Thank you to those who've left your words of encouragement! I couldn't have done this without you. 3 Please R&R!
Your humble story-teller,
FLUX
-*** 74th Hunger Games. Day 3. Continued. ***-
Cato's fingers brushed against his dry lips, still feeling the faint pressure of the baker boy's kiss. The tips of his fingers felt numb, and a similar sensation echoed within his chest, each breath reverberating beneath his ribs. He tried to push Peeta's face out of his mind, exhaling slowly.
The overcast sky hid the sun, but the day's heat lingered. He watched the waves crash against the island's east edge, pushing and pulling against the white sands like the turbulent thoughts in his head. He chewed his lip, staring bleakly at the foamy waters that had washed away Peeta's footprints. He had lost count of the times he imagined the baker boy stumbling back through the brush, but with each passing minute, that hope slowly faded.
Cato's mind drifted elsewhere—to his parents, his sister Cornelia—and the dreadful realization that he had kissed a man in front of the entire nation. He groaned internally at the secondhand embarrassment, resting his head against the cold stone. What the hell was he thinking?
A pit of fear and guilt formed in Cato's throat. If he weren't emotionally numb, he might have contemplated drowning himself in the ocean. Undoubtedly, the Gamemakers would pity him and send some monstrosity to drag him below the depths. Part of himself had always been hidden from the world, tucked beneath the expectations that molded him into a warrior. He hated that part of himself—the part that reminded him of how fragile his life was.
Cato had repressed his emotions for so long that he didn't even recognize himself. He had surrendered his youth to the people he feared instead of living his life. But as his mind calmed from the turmoil of his thoughts, one emotion stood out: relief. He felt relief at finally revealing his truth. Cato never imagined that coming into his own would feel so liberating. It was something he owed himself, like the calm reprieve of staring at the sea.
If only the moment would last.
It wasn't until late afternoon that Cato heard stirring within the temple. The sun was starting to set over the horizon, blending the sky into a mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows. His footfalls echoed along the worn stone as he found Clove and Glimmer sitting on their bedrolls. Clove chugged water from their canteen while Glimmer shoved chunks of dried fish into her mouth. The black veins had nearly disappeared, but fatigue still lingered in their gazes. Marvel was against the opposite wall, propped up against his bag, asleep.
"How long have we been out?" Clove croaked between sips of water. Cato moved beside them, fetching a piece of fish from her pack. The brunette accepted it gratefully.
"Just a day," he replied, sitting beside them on the stone bench. "You both should rest up for the night. We're heading out at first light."
Glimmer scanned the room curiously. "Where are the other three? Are they dead?"
"No, they're not. Luna attacked me while you were unconscious. I managed to fight off her and Reef before passing out."
Clove raised a brow. "What about Lover Boy?"
Cato met her stare. "He slipped away when I was gathering water."
She pursed her lips, chewing her fish. Glimmer took a hefty swig of water, wiping her mouth as her eyes traveled to Marvel.
"What about him?"
"He's fine, probably just worn out from taking shifts with Lover Boy while I was out."
Glimmer's lips tugged into a frown as she moved to join Marvel against the opposite wall. Clove inched closer, examining Cato's left arm.
"How bad is it?"
Cato shifted, hiding his bandage from her peering eyes. "It's fine. I patched it up earlier."
"Whatever you say," she muttered, eyeing him sharply. "Why did Luna attack you?"
Cato tried his best to hide his scowl. "She tried forcing Lover Boy to play the board. You and Glimmer were already on the ground. Things were spiraling fast, so I chose to intervene."
"By getting stabbed?" she mocked.
"Not by choice."
"Obviously," she rolled her eyes with a sharp breath. "Well, you messed up good this time. You'll be lucky if you don't lose your arm."
A tick of annoyance stirred within him. "You shouldn't have messed with the board."
She crossed her arms defiantly. The black tendrils of poison still scarred her eyes. "I guess we both dug our own graves then."
Cato silently chewed the inside of his cheek, frustration gnawing at him as he watched Clove attempt to salvage her wounded pride. She had tried to outmaneuver the Gamemakers but failed, triggering a chain of events that jeopardized their lives. Despite gaining a tactical edge from her actions, Cato couldn't shake the growing unease that filled the space between them.
They sat in silence as the daylight waned. No cannons were fired. No anthem was played.
As darkness fell, Cato quietly lit the sconces lining the walls. Clove sat silently before the raised platform, engrossed in studying a holographic map. Glimmer lay sleeping beside Marvel in the dimly lit space, leaving him alone with the brooding brunette. Clove twirled a blade absentmindedly as she focused on the map.
"What good is a map that doesn't reveal the whole board?" she muttered.
Cato rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his canteen. "It was a trap. They wanted you to think you were winning, but you had already lost when you picked up the first piece."
"I couldn't have won anyway," Clove replied, chewing her lip as her eyes traced the board. "They had already pinned my knights, and my queen was set to be taken. Maybe if—" She paused, shaking her head with a sigh. "No… you're right. You were right."
Cato felt the tension ease slightly. "We need to be more careful," he said, shifting on the stone bench beside her. "There are plenty of things that'll kill us in here. I don't want it to be you or me… not until the end."
Clove nodded slowly, shifting her gaze back to the board. "What now?"
Cato noticed a glint of light reflecting off the tarnished marble floor. He stepped closer and discovered one of the discarded pawns from the chessboard. He wrapped the dewy ivory piece in plastic from his gauze pack. "Let's hope Luna wants to play chess."
-*** 74th Hunger Games. Day 4 ***-
As the evening passed, Marvel took over from Cato, who said little during the trade-off. Exhausted, Cato nestled atop his bedroll, listening to the thunderous storms booming overhead. His restless mind watched the distant lightning flash against the temple ceiling. Heavy rain pelted the rooftop as he tossed and turned, the dull ache in his arm consuming him. Finally, exhaustion overcame him.
He awoke begrudgingly at dawn, bile burning his throat. Numbness settled across the fingertips of his left arm as he slowly rose from his bedroll. A bitter hollowness filled his chest, his energy draining from his wound. Bellowing winds battered the side of the temple as he and his companions gathered their items for the upcoming journey.
Cato chewed a bit of fish, trying to settle the nausea washing over him like a tidal wave. He glared grudgingly at the goddess statue beside him. Standing uneasily, he retrieved the bronze shield from her marble hand. With shaky hands, he tossed the shield to the ground. He pulled the spear from her grip. With a swift and decisive lunge, he pierced its head through the floor of her mouth. The metal shearing against metal vibrated the grip as the holographic map sputtered before disappearing. Cato flung his pack over his shoulder and fetched the shield with his damaged arm.
"We're burning daylight. Let's move."
Setting off from the temple, they were greeted by heavy overcast skies. They ventured along the shore as the bellowing winds whipped sand across their skin. Heading northward, they made their way through the dense thicket. Thunder rumbled overhead as they ducked and weaved through the twisting mangroves and hanging vines.
As the forest grew deeper, Cato felt scratches burn against his skin. Brambles wrapped around the limbs of the mangroves like barbed wire, and the sleeves of his arms were sliced open like parchment against scissors. He trudged onward, using his shield to cover his face while his sword carved a path through the brush. Clove followed him closely, with Marvel and Glimmer forging a path beside them.
Marvel's grunts of frustration grew louder, matching the density of the thicket as he desperately hacked through the screen of thorns. "Fucking hell! We've been climbing through this jungle for hours. There's no end to it!"
Cato cursed silently as a vine of thorns scratched his cheek. "We're almost through! Just a little further!"
"And you're sure Luna and Reef went this way?" Glimmer called back, pulling the thickets that twisted into her long locks.
"Positive!" he huffed, pausing briefly to wipe the sweat and dirt coating his forehead. They had been trudging through the thicket for over an hour. The overcast sky loomed beneath the thick canopy, and a sickening humidity lingered in the air, making his arm heavy with fatigue.
"Fuck!" Marvel cursed. "I'm done!"
He swung his arm wildly, chipping through the thicket as quickly as the obstacle was cleared. Cato shook his head, watching him cautiously as he beelined towards the clearing a few hundred meters away. "Be careful! You don't know what's ahead!"
"I'm getting out of this brush whether you like it or not!"
"Slow down!" Clove called back. "That idiot is walking into an ambush."
Cato nodded, hacking away at the twisting branches before him. He watched out of his peripherals as Marvel made it to the clearing, taking a joyous breath as he stepped forward.
Suddenly, the ground swallowed him, his scream echoing through the air.
"Marvel!" Glimmer screamed, running to the pit as she readied her bow. She crouched, scanning the tree line.
"Cato! We're gonna need your help!"
Blackbirds swarmed the space around the blonde, echoing her and Marvel's screams throughout the open air. Cato's pulse quickened as he slashed away at the dense thicket. The birds cleared as he broke into the clearing, his eyes scanning the ground before slowly approaching Glimmer. The blonde from District 1 was shaken, tufts of black feathers dotting her locks.
"What… were those?" she asked meekly.
"Jabberjays. They're a weapon from the First Rebellion," Cato replied, kneeling beside the pit.
Five feet below, Marvel was trapped by the thicket, its sharp prongs curling around his frame like barbed wire. His breath was ragged as he tried to control his fear. "Get me out of here!"
He let out a defiant scream as he moved, driving the prongs deeper into his limbs. Cato shook his head with a sigh. "I told you not to run in here!"
"Get off your high horse, Cato," Marvel gritted his teeth. "Hurry up!"
Cato glanced over at Glimmer, who was pulling feathers from her hair. "You got any rope?"
Glimmer nodded slowly, retrieving a bundle of rope from her pack. Clove stood beside him, readying her knives with anticipation.
Cato wrapped the coil of rope around his waist, using himself as a counterweight. "Keep watch with Clove. I'll fish him out."
Glimmer pursed her lips, notching an arrow as she scanned the tree line. Marvel's screams continued to echo in the distance as Cato approached the ledge. He tossed the rope's end to Marvel, securing it over his good arm. "Hold onto the rope. I'm going to pull you up."
Marvel didn't respond, grimacing as he threaded his arms through the barbs to grip the rope and spear. His staggered scream filled the air as Cato walked backward, dragging his fellow tribute up the pit's wall.
Cato failed to realize how exhausted he truly was, staggering back against the weight that dug into his core. His pace was painstakingly slow as sweat pooled beneath his suit. The dense air filled his lungs like cotton. His body pulsed, feeling the line fall slack. Cato collapsed to the ground as Marvel lay on the pit's edge. His fingers convulsed as he pulled the brambles embedded in his skin. Glimmer rushed to his side, silently consoling him.
The air burned Cato's throat as he watched the scene unfold. The concern that shimmered in Glimmer's eyes. How her hand brushed against the nape of Marvel's neck rhythmically, like a mother comforting a child.
Cato felt a tinge of envy creep up his spine, reminded of a feeling he longed for. He drank from his canteen, drowning his thoughts in the reprieve of water.
Moments passed as Glimmer helped Marvel pull the thorns embedded in his skin. Marvel turned to Cato, staggering to his feet. "Thanks."
Cato met his stare. "We're even."
"Yeah, we are," Marvel let out a staggered laugh with a breath. "Now, I've got a score to settle with those two."
Cato returned the rope to Glimmer, eyeing Marvel beside her. "You'll have to get in line, then, because when we find them, Luna's mine."
Thunder rumbled in agreement overhead as the canopy grew darker. Nodding to the others, Cato headed northward into the brush. For another hour, they clawed their way through thickets of thorns until the dense vegetation finally thinned. The forest gave way to a swamp of mangroves. Cato scanned the muddy ground, finding the footprints of heels dug into the muck. The chirping of bugs echoed around them as they stepped through the murky terrain.
He had lost track of time but guessed it was well past midday. Dark clouds loomed beneath the thinning canopy until a shimmer of light caught his eye.
Sand. White sand just a few meters beyond the swamp. Beyond that, he saw the familiar silhouette of a building in the distance. The gleam of white stone became more evident as his feet met the warm sand.
A tarnished marble colonnade surrounded a small building nestled upon a nearby hillside. Cato looked back at his Careers, meeting their nods as they readied their weapons. They set off across the sands, making it a few meters before bellowing winds scattered the sand around them. A distant roar filled the air, mixing with the snapping of tree limbs.
Cato shielded his eyes from the sand, turning his head to glimpse the sundering echo. His heart raced as a mammoth surge of water, higher than he could fathom, swallowed the canopy behind him.
"Run!" he screamed; his throat choked with sand.
Fear painted the Careers' faces as they sprinted forth, racing toward the temple's sanctuary. Cato felt the air and sand burn his limbs. His legs quivered with each step forward, the power of the tsunami shaking the earth beneath him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, numbing his muscles as the roar of the crashing water grew closer.
A surge of violent power engulfed Cato, hurling him forward without restraint. The relentless water tossed him like a leaf in a storm, disorienting him amidst the foamy churn and bubbles. Panic gripped him as he lost sight of his comrades.
A sharp pain shot through his right shoulder as he collided with the columns. Air escaped his lungs in a silent scream beneath the roaring tides.
Above the crashing waves, a cannon blast echoed through the chaos. Brief flashes of lightning illuminated the swirling water and the darkness below.
As darkness closed in, Cato's senses dulled. The rush of water swallowed him, dragging him deeper into an abyss where his consciousness slipped away.
No one can hear you scream if you're underwater.
That was the last thing Cato remembered before he was flung against a stone wall. The impact expelled the water from his lungs, leaving him choking and gasping for air. His racing heart pulsed through his fingertips as his body wretched violently. Water clogged his ears, but he could hear the distant sound of draining water between his gagging. Bits of fish and water coated the murky ground as he trembled uncontrollably. Sitting back against the stone, a sharp, throbbing pain coursed through his right arm. His breath grew ragged, each inhale burning his throat.
Cato's eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. He found himself alone in a large stone chamber, the ceiling towering at least thirty feet above. His back pressed against the moist, glistening rock, and his heels scraped against a metal grate, the source of the draining water. A bruise formed on his left arm, though he was thankful the shield had cushioned most of the fall. A distant gleam of dim light permeated the entrance to Cato's left. A sharp ache filled his shoulder as he struggled to stand. Shuffling his feet along the grate, his toe caught something—his sword. Bending over to sheath his blade, the sharp pain drew a cry from his throat.
"Fuck!" he cursed, tears stinging his eyes.
The ball of his shoulder bulged from its socket. He knew it was dislocated, but he wasn't in any position to fix it now. Taking a shaky breath, he slid the shield onto his right arm. Grabbing his blade, he cautiously made for the entrance.
It was a utility tunnel. The soft crunch of dirt and gravel beneath Cato's feet broke the silence. Strips of low-light panels spiraled within the tunnel, creating a disorienting effect. His eyes trailed along the floor, fighting the nausea growing in his stomach. Time dragged on with each step, trudging onward for what felt like hours along the twists and turns of the tunnel. Cato's body ached, and his appetite gnawed at him. He tried salvaging his fish rations but found the dried flanks soaked in seawater. The loss made him sulk.
Finally, Cato reached his first intersection, a circular corridor with three separate branches. He desperately wanted to rest but knew he had to keep moving, or he'd starve in these tunnels. He froze as a voice broke the silence.
"You should be thankful I know your heavy feet from a mile away."
Clove. She stowed her blade, stepping forward from his right.
Cato sighed in relief. "I'm glad it's you and not the other two."
He leaned against the nearby wall as she drew closer, her face mired with bruises and tiny cuts. She furrowed her brows, glancing at his shoulder.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks," he laughed halfheartedly. "You know, have I ever told you that your cursing is childish?"
"Duly noted," she mocked, rolling her eyes as she examined his arm. "I can pop it back in, but it will hurt."
"No shit."
She gave him a stern glare. "Fine. By all means, go through the games with a handicap. Makes it easier for me in the end."
"Fine, fine," Cato groaned, slumping against the wall. "Just… get it over with."
He mentally braced himself for the pain, sliding the shield from his arm. Clove pulled his arm outward, causing an ache in his shoulder. Cato gave her a nod, and she quickly pulled it outward before shoving it back into its socket. His silent scream caught in his throat as tears stung his eyes.
"Fucking hell…" he sighed. "I'd rather get stabbed."
"Don't count that out," Clove replied, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as she extended her hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Cato accepted the aid, rising to his feet. They turned down the corridor to the left, their footsteps echoing off the gravel beneath them. He checked the function of his arm, relieved to find he could still swing his sword with his dominant hand. As they moved along the path, the disorienting lights caused Cato to avert his gaze, his eyes tracing the floor. The tunnel's oppressive atmosphere weighed on him, each step echoing like a reminder of the confinement he despised.
"What's the matter?" Clove asked.
"Nothing. Just not a fan of tunnels."
Clove glanced at him, a shadow of a memory crossing her features. "My father used to take me to quarries outside the polis. He's an architect, so he surveyed the samples before they were sent to the Capital," she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "There were plenty of tunnels to explore and plenty of snakes, too."
"Must've been a fun childhood," Cato scoffed, though his voice lacked its usual bite.
"It was," she replied, her tone flattening as she took a breath. "I used to play Hide N' Seek with my friend, Jason. He was the foreman's son."
"Was?"
Clove's shoulders tensed. "He died. We were playing in the mines, and he got bitten by a rattlesnake. By the time we got help, his arm was three times its normal size. Back then, they didn't mandate the workers to keep anti-venom on site. We were at least an hour from the nearest hospital. The Peacekeeper put a bullet in his head to end his suffering. I stopped visiting after that."
Resentment crept up Cato's spine, mingling with the already present tension. "His father didn't stop it?"
"They're the judge, jury, and executioners," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. "They called it a mercy killing."
Cato clenched his fists. "Mercy… that's what they call it when they don't care enough to save you."
"Yeah," Clove whispered, her eyes distant. "I hated them for it... Sometimes, I still do. It was the first time they made me realize how little our lives meant to them."
Silence fell between them, the only sounds being their footsteps and the distant water drip echoing through the tunnel. The weight of their shared pasts pressed down on them, a grim reminder of the world they lived in.
"Why do you think they do it?" Cato asked after a while, his voice low.
Clove shrugged. "Control. Fear. To remind us that we're nothing but pawns."
Cato's jaw tightened. "I'm no one's pawn."
"No," Clove agreed, a fierce light in her eyes. "We're not. We're survivors."
As they continued through the tunnel, silence enveloped their journey. The tunnel was a damp labyrinth of twisting turns and draining pipes, each coated with a thin film of moisture that clung to their clothes and skin. The spiraling lights turned the tunnels into a disorienting cacophony of madness for Cato and Clove.
Their footsteps echoed in the narrow passage, with the sound of dripping water adding to the eerie atmosphere. Cato's eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the twisting paths. The constant darkness weighed on him, amplifying every sound and movement. At last, they found an alcove near a drain, offering a small respite from the oppressive tunnel. Cato slumped against the wall, his breath coming in heavy pants. Clove sat beside him; her face etched with fatigue.
"This place is a nightmare," Cato muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It never ends. At this rate, we'll die down here."
Clove looked at Cato with concern etched across her face. "You need to rest," she said firmly, though her tone was gentle. "I'll take the first shift."
Cato didn't object; he let the weight of his exhaustion overwhelm him. He rested his head against the cold pipe, the distant drip mimicking the pulse in his limbs. Even underground, the air was sweltering. A droplet of condensation dripped onto his forehead, bringing a sweet reprieve as he slipped into unconsciousness.
For the past three days, his dreams had been a void of blackness, but now they erupted into a violent storm of red mist. Wetness splattered his face as his pulse quickened. The boy from District 7 fell, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground. The young boy from District 6 was followed by the girl from District 10 and then the girl from District 8. Finally, Marcus, with blood seeping from the cracks of his smile, appeared. Peeta's lifeless stare, with his haunting amber eyes frozen in stillness, jolted him awake.
Breathless, Cato's eyes darted around the tunnel, momentarily disoriented. The oppressive darkness pressed in on him, the echoes of his nightmares lingering in his mind. His chest heaved as he struggled to calm his racing heart. Clove glanced at him from her position, her expression softening.
"Bad dream?"
Cato nodded, unable to find his voice. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the lingering terror of his dreams clawing at the edges of his consciousness.
"I'll take the next shift," he offered his voice a low murmur, heavy with weariness.
Clove studied his face for a moment before nodding. "Alright," she agreed, standing up and moving to his spot beside the pit. "Wake me if anything happens."
Cato leaned against the alcove entrance, trying to calm his racing thoughts as the distant sound of dripping water echoed in the oppressive darkness. Yet, it wasn't the darkness that haunted him; it was the image of Peeta's crimson-stained face and his lifeless amber eyes. The feeling curled his stomach, coming awash with unrelenting emotions. He tried to push them away, to focus on the present, but the Refrain had finally worn its course.
As Cato sat there, his mind raced. The faces of the fallen tributes flashed before him, each one a reminder of the blood on his hands. He had trained for this, prepared himself for the brutality of the Hunger Games, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it. The deaths, the blood, the haunting stares—it was all too much.
He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing. The Refrain had been a crutch, a way to dull the edges of his reality, but now he had to face it all without its aid. The weight of it pressed down on him, threatening to crush him under its force.
Time moved slowly underground. Cato could only guess how many hours had passed before Panem's anthem played, ushering in a moment of reprieve. The familiar notes echoed through the long labyrinth halls, jolting Clove awake. She stirred, her eyes wide as the lights flickered before illuminating a hologram of the fallen tribute—the boy from District 10.
Thirteen were dead. Eleven remained.
Clove rubbed her eyes, shaking off the remnants of sleep. "Another one down," she muttered, her voice hoarse.
Cato nodded, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. "Yeah. One less to worry about."
They sat silently for a moment, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. The anthem's echo gradually faded, leaving an unsettling quiet filling the tunnel.
"We should keep moving," Clove suggested, her eyes scanning their dim surroundings. "Staying in one place for too long isn't safe."
Cato agreed and pushed himself to his feet. The oppressive heat and humidity lingered, clinging to their skin, making each breath feel labored. He adjusted the strap of his backpack, feeling the reassuring weight of his great sword on his back.
They continued down the corridor, their footsteps echoing on the gravel beneath them. The disorienting lights made the tunnel feel like an endless maze, with each turn blending into the next. The darkness seemed to press in on them, making the air feel even heavier.
"How's your arm?" Clove asked after a while, glancing at him.
Cato flexed his fingers, feeling the numbness slowly recede. "Better. Still hurts, but I'll manage."
Truth be told, he'd lost feeling in his left hand. The soreness running through his body made him want to cry, no doubt amplified by the release from the Refrain. He clenched his jaw, determined not to show any weakness. Clove didn't need to see how much pain he was really in.
As they continued for hours through the winding tunnels, each step served as a grueling reminder of their exhaustion. The disorienting lights overhead flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that twisted and writhed with their movements. The oppressive atmosphere pressed down on them, making each breath feel like a struggle.
Just as Cato felt he couldn't continue, a high-pitched shriek filled the halls, echoing with terror and sending chills down his spine.
As they turned around, a horrifying creature charged toward them. It was a grotesque mutation born of the Capitol's twisted experiments. The creature had long, sinewy limbs that moved with unnerving fluidity. Its skin was a mottled mix of grays and tans, stretched tightly over rippling muscles, giving it a skeletal appearance. Its head was a nightmarish fusion of human and beast, with a wide, gaping mouth filled with jagged, razor-sharp teeth. Its hollow, soulless eyes absorbed all light, casting an aura of malice. From its back sprouted two grotesque appendages, a horrifying blend of scorpion tails and serpentine whips, each tipped with deadly, glistening barbs.
Cato's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He turned to Clove and urgently commanded, "Run!"
They sprinted down the corridor, the creature's inhuman screeches echoing off the walls, growing louder with each passing second. The twists and turns of the tunnel created a disorienting labyrinth, offering no respite.
Finally, they skidded to a halt, reaching a dead end. The walls towered high and seemed impenetrable, leaving them trapped with no way out. Cato's breath came in ragged gasps as he turned to face Clove, his eyes filled with fear.
"We're trapped," whispered Clove, her voice trembling.
"Search for a way out! I'll buy you some time," Cato nodded, his nerves taut.
He drew his sword, preparing to face the monstrosity. Clove's hands frantically searched the rough wall for any means of escape.
Cato took a deep breath, widening his stance as the creature loomed closer. "Come on! If you want us, you'll have to kill us first!"
He was terrified. The world seemed to slow as the creature scrambled closer, its teeth gnashing and the barbs of its tails whipping wildly.
He braced for its assault.
The impact of its charge buckled his knees, but he held firm. Cato shoved the mutation back, hearing the scrape of its claws against his bronze shield. He slashed the creature's arm, revealing blackened blood that oozed from its skin.
It barreled forth again, meeting Cato's shield as he plunged his blade into its chest.
A moment of relief washed over him, quickly replaced with panic as the shrieks of the mutation filled the space—half a dozen more charging down the tunnel.
"Clove, hurry up!" he yelled, readying himself for another attack.
Clove yelled back; her voice frantic. "I'm trying! There's something written on the wall!"
Her hands ran along the rough surface, searching desperately for a way out. She found words etched into the wall: Light begets truth.
Panic gripped her as the screams drew closer. Cato felled the first creature with his sword. The second mutation clawed into his side when she finally found the answer. Cato let out a desperate scream, burning pain emanating from his wound.
"Break the lights!" she screamed, tossing a dagger into the mutation's head before smashing the string of lights near the tunnel's edge.
Cato tossed the creature's corpse into the frame, shattering the glass of the light before breaking it with the edge of his shield. He prepared for another attack as the mutations closed in.
In the moment of darkness, a single brick stood out from the rest. Clove shoved her hands against it, ushering in a hiss of steam as the wall flung open like a latch.
"Come on, this way!" she yelled.
Cato turned, sprinting toward the light of the exit as the mutations closed in. The morning sun hid behind the mountain of sand as his heels dug into the shifting ground. They were in the basin of a dune. He heard the nearby sound of crashing waves, drowned out by the screams of the horrors giving chase.
They scrambled up the dune, the sand slipping beneath their feet.
"We have to fight!" Cato yelled, readying himself beside Clove. She nodded in agreement, pulling two daggers from her belt.
Four mutations remained. Their exhaustion stiffened their resolve as the pending threat loomed.
Cato met the first pair with his shield, unfazed by the daggers Clove threw into their sides. He dodged the barbs of its tail, blocking its claws as it lunged forward like a snake.
Another dagger pierced its head as its maw snapped toward Cato's face. He didn't have time to react before the other mutation tackled him into the sand.
He screamed, feeling a burn resonate from his chest. Its barbed tail bounced against his shield. Cato sunk into the sand under the weight of the beast. He cried out, jamming his sword through the mutation's arm. Its screech echoed in the air.
Clove threw another dagger, striking one of the approaching creatures in the arm. It howled in pain, reeling back as black blood spurted from the wound. Seeing Cato's struggle, she hurled another dagger, hitting the mutation in the eye. It shrieked, momentarily distracted, allowing Cato to shove it off him. He scrambled to his feet, panting heavily.
The creature lunged again, but Clove intercepted it, tackling it to the ground. A cloud of sand filled the air as the creature's limbs thrashed violently. Her groans of frustration echoed as she pushed the blade deeper into the creature's skull, black blood painting her face.
Cato pulled her up, eyes wide with urgency. "We need to finish this!"
They stood back-to-back, facing the remaining pair of mutations. Cato's muscles ached, and his vision blurred from exhaustion.
The creatures encircled them, hissing like snakes. One lunged at Clove, but she sidestepped and sliced its back swiftly. Another charged at Cato, but he met it head-on, driving his blade through its skull.
Another pair of mutations scrambled from the tunnel. Fatigue filled their limbs as Clove's knees buckled, sinking her into the sand.
"Clove!"
"I'm fine!" she lied, her breath ragged as Cato stood protectively before her.
Cato's limbs trembled with exhaustion. The sun peaked over the sands as he readied his shield for a final stand. The mutations screeched in pain, retreating to the sanctuary of the tunnel, clawing the air wildly. Finally, their shrieks disappeared, leaving behind the soft sound of crashing waves.
Breathing heavily, they surveyed the scene, the lifeless bodies of the creatures strewn across the sand. A warm glow cast over the battlefield.
Cato turned to Clove; his voice hoarse. "We did it."
"Yeah, we did," she nodded, her face pale but resolute. "We won—"
She collapsed against the sand, crimson seeping from her side.
Cato rushed to her side, panic flooding his veins. "Clove, what's wrong?"
"It must've got me when I tackled it," she admitted, her breath ragged.
Tears stung his eyes. "Why did you do that?"
"To protect you," she whispered. Blood seeped from the wound in her right side. He desperately tried to pack the wound, but the blood wouldn't stop. Fear seized his body as her breath became shallow.
"Cato, do you know the constellations hymn?"
He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.
"It's my mother's favorite," she breathed weakly. "I'd like to hear it one more time."
Kneeling beside her, her trembling hand rested on his. He remembered the words, but the first line came out in a croak.
"I can feel it on my tongue
Brick and mortar, thick as scripture
Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders as tall as towers
I babble on until my voice is gone."
Clove's head rested against the sand, her gaze following the clouds above.
"This hill I'll die on is about 90 meters of bricks
Colored indigo and inscribed with my name, and lined with cedar
But the words fall flat like cymbals crashing
Like molars gnashing."
Tears welled in the corners of Clove's eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
"'Cause like constellations a million years away
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array
Looking for the faces
Looking for the shapes in the silence."
Clove turned to him, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you."
As Clove's hands fell limp, the sound of a cannon echoed through the arena, marking her death. The noise reverberated through the desolate dunes.
"No... no, no, no," Cato murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. He cradled Clove's lifeless body, tears streaming down his face. The shock of her death hit him like a physical blow, leaving him breathless and reeling.
"Clove, please," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "You can't... you can't leave me. Not now."
His tears mixed with the sand, his body trembling as he held her. She had been more than just an ally; she had been a friend, a fierce companion in a world that demanded their strength and resilience.
"Please, Clove," he begged, his voice raw with desperation. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone in this hell."