My Soul to Take; Stars vs. Walkers

Her blade sunk into the flesh of her precious ally, but not where she had hoped to end her life. Instead of puncturing the heart to seal her fate quickly and cease her pain eternally, she opened a fresh wound on Ailis’ neck that leaked blood, yet at a slower rate than what was necessary to kill her.

”I told you to lay still,” said the hollow shell with a sigh, her lips pursed and her blade dripping with the blood of tributes both perished and alive. She raised her blade again for another strike, this time maintaining silence for there were no more words to exchange with the district twelve huntress. She had already apologized - an apology meant to reassure Ailis that Demeter was indeed disappointed to watch her leave the earth so early, yet still willing to dispose of a person no longer useful to her. She would only be a burden to carry from that point on, even Heather seemed to understand that - or perhaps it was her secret distaste for Demeter and her partner that motivated her to slip a knife into Ailis' abdomen, ending her life but failing to end it quickly enough.

”Dead. She’s dead, isn’t she?” There was no need to utter a response; the flickering lights in their ally’s eyes fading into darkness was enough to end the story on its own. A gentle sigh of grief? mourning? exhaustion escaped her as she knelt beside the girl and brushed the hair away from her forehead, planting one last kiss upon her warm flesh before her corpse turned cold by death’s grip. Heather’s screeches sounded behind her, ”I want nothing to do with this!. Demeter kept her silence. There was no comforting the girl that was losing herself - the girl who could not handle stress in the face of death himself with his ivory face and skeletal body shrouded in a cloak as black as night with no stars of hope to glimmer. Losing Learna had been enough to smack reality into the girl's delicate cheek bones. Alaska’s death had been enough to waken her to the truth of the arena and what she, as a tribute and human puppet, was capable of. The death of Ailis Copper, however, was perhaps her breaking point. ”I want nothing to do with this! Don’t let me kill! Let me go home.” But home was a distant dream. A lie. Her old home was gone, vanished, forever lost. Her new home was the arena - her new home was the underworld, because once she entered, Demeter would be sure she never left it.

A shifting of the grass reminded her that there was a third pair of eyes still present. Even facing the amusing sight of the fireball cripple and his panicked cries for his ally, who had mysteriously vanished into thin air by some unknown force (perhaps the gamemakers), a smile could not creep its way to Demeter sullen face. Her will to tear the boy open was diminished, and her energy escaped into the air never to be found again until she rested. Murdering the boy then and there would be a simple task despite the bloody knife he wielded in his little hands, but there was no passion, no motivation. She didn't even want to look at the boy anymore, just leave him there to wither away on his own time. "We're leaving, Heather," she said, the usual spark of malice absent from her tone. "The careers will take care of this one - if the mutts don't find him first."

And then the cannon sounded; the last goodbye of district twelve's bravest warrior, Ailis Copper, and another step closer to victory.

[Demeter flees and uses first aid on herself for -3]