with one lung [charlotte vs erebus, day 6]

Siren Baitwell and Leon Krigel saved his life. The pair from District Four had helped him limp out of the line of fire of the giant mutt and set him up inside the Saloon. The female part of the couple helped Erebus patch himself up, tying off bandages and sewing up the giant holes cut in his skin. The boy's mouth was dry and the sun had turned his shoulders and cheeks an angry red. Glancing over at the empty bottles that littered the counter he saw his reflection warped in the glass. It didn't look like him and not just because of the bottles' curves. His hair was filthy streaked with blood and coated in dirt. His face had taken quite a beating, the new gash along his cheekbone made his usual baby face seem harder. Or maybe that was from how little he had eaten since arriving in the Games. In fact, he hadn't eaten a thing since his breakfast before the Bloodbath. Unsteady hands reached into his satchel and pulled out the meat Nocturne had cooked for him. He had forgotten all about it, but once it was in his hands it was gone before he thought about how safe it might be to eat.

He liked Siren and Leon. Despite them being enemies and all that. Leon had known Nocturne and that made the boy more comfortable around the older tributes. They had wounds of their own they were nursing. Leon had a stump instead of an arm and Siren had a few gashes herself. Normally, Erebus might have stared at Leon's missing hand but it was no longer a rarity to him. What was rare was the boy from Four's hair. It reminded him so much of his families' trademark gene that he almost felt at home. When the boy turned around he almost thought it was his long lost brother. Of course, Erebus never had a brother only sisters. He had a brother once, one from District Nine but that felt oh so long ago...

The pair from Four shared their kindness but soon went their separate ways and once again Erebus Turner was left alone with all the ghosts that must haunt this sad little town.

When the Anthem began to echo through the Arena, Erebus hopped along with one hand on the bar until he was on the porch out in front of the Saloon, looking up at all the faces in the sky. He started to count out the tributes on his hand but ran out of fingers since his thumb had been hacked off. A total of five faces flashed against the sky ending with the hard eyes of the District Seven boy before disintegrating into darkness.

After spending nearly a week in the little run down town, Erebus was beginning to loathe the rotten wood and worn down signs that appeared at every turn. He tried to take a swig of water from his canteen only to remember that it was empty. His lips were chapped and he hardly had any saliva to wet them. Instead he took to chewing on the peeling skin. His mother used to yell at him for gnawing on his lips that like but she wasn't here. No one was here anymore.

Hopping along to wooden boards to the back door of the Saloon, Erebus tried to balance himself against the door frame enough to be able to pee without falling over. Feet were more important to basic functions than the boy had thought, and he hoped whoever was watching the Games appreciated feet more after watching him struggle to urinate without tumbling into it.

Another trip of hopping across the Saloon, another glance into the bottles, another disappointed sigh at finding them empty. There was shade from the sun in the building but the air was stuffy and threatened to suffocate the tribute. He was tired of the scenery and he was tired of waiting around for kids to come and kill him. Sliding his satchel over his shoulder and grabbing his walking stick, Erebus starting limping out the door. Even if he ended up falling into the sand and dying of heatstroke it would be better than dying from a blade in the heart cooped up inside some wooden shack.

Hobbling between the buildings, Erebus felt better than he had in days. He had made it to the sixth day of the Hunger Games. He was in the top eight of tributes, which meant that his family must be being interviewed back home. He wondered what Lethe might be telling all the Capitol reporters. She had cried as much as he had during their training week, and he hoped to hobble his way back to her. Lethe Turner had been through enough to last a life time, a dead brother would only add to her pain.

I'm coming home, Lethe. I'm trying. he thought, making his way toward the edge of the town. However, before he even left past the jail house a blade caught him in the arm tearing his shirt and skin and all the confidence he had built during the night.

"No," Erebus said, throwing his walking stick into the dirt and yanking his knife from his belt. "No more of this. I'm sick of it- leave me ALONE!"

[Attacks Charlotte]
TzOpGnUpknife
[Block -- 0.0 damage]

She was right. That's not how the Games work. That's not how life works. Just because you're down doesn't mean others can't kick you. Rules mean nothing and pity is fiction. Even still, Erebus wished the world would pity him.

The pain of her blade buried in his leg forced his teeth to slam together and his remaining fingers to curl up into fists trying to bite back a scream.

"I thought your sister would teach you fucking something!" She did teach him. From a young age Lethe had taught Erebus to be kind. Despite the fact that she couldn't remember his face for most of his life, she taught him almost everything he knew. Lethe showed him how to groom the horses the way they liked, how to please mother and all her requirements. She taught him how to be soft and open. She taught him how to love.

All of that was useless in here, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Erebus Turner would rather die a gentle, quiet boy then live to be a monster. Killing takes a cold heart and that was something the Turner boy would never have.

Tears were already in his eyes and the boy yelled, rubbing the heel of his hands in his eyes to wipe them away. Why did he always have to cry?

Despite all his disadvantages, Erebus didn't feel like dying today. The Turner boy might be one to mope about but right now a flame inside of him was burning bright. He might have been handed the shortest end of any stick available but that didn't mean he wasn't going to grab it and smack someone over the head with it.

You can be gentle and strong. You can defend yourself and not be a monster. You can be yourself and still make it home.

That's what Erebus planned on doing.

[Attacks Charlotte]
Dg8fZlr_knife
[Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

It was no mystery that Erebus was out of his element. The child did not grow up with spears and swords nor was he taught how to kill someone nineteen different ways with only his bare hands. He had grown up like most children do, innocently. The kind of time when they chase butterflies and giggle over clouds. Erebus slept in straw and had his mom pinch his cheeks. He wondered if the girl before him had the same luxuries.

Erebus knew about "Careers" the population of kids born and bred to fight in the Games. The girl in front of him- Charlotte, her name is Charlotte- was from One and there was no doubt in his mind what background she had come from. Did she ever have free time as a child? Or was it all drills and training?

It may have selfish of him but he didn't want to know. His mind wandered that direction but he refused to think of this girl's story and what hardships she might have faced. If he knew Charlotte then he would feel horrible about fighting her. He did not need to pity the girl who was killing him.

Pity. Erebus Turner thinks about pity an awful lot. I don't blame him, after all you'd think about pity too if people looked at you how they stare at Erebus. Brother of a victor- lightning doesn't strike the same place twice. Handsome face- but such a scrawny body, he won't last long. A good family name- but look how he cries, he's weak.

Weak, scrawny, useless, shameful, dead man walking. Would it bring shame to his family to have him die? Would Lethe be tarnished by the fact that he couldn't pull through like her? Would the ones he loved be punished for his downfalls? One already had. Nocturne was dead because he couldn't fight back.

It's a stupid thought to have seeing as only one victor could be crowned but he wanted to believe he could have saved Nocturne. It was all make believe because all Nocturne did was save Erebus' sorry ass. He was the one killed every mutt they had encountered. Vargas had been the one to share his gifts. Vargas had done everything and what had Erebus done? Let him die.

Erebus flinched as the girl's knife sliced open the wound Siren had helped him sew shut the night before. The gash on his cheek was bleeding again, trailing red tear drops down his jaw.

He would not let any of this be in vain. Not Siren and Leon's kindness, not Lethe's tears, and especially not Nocturne's death. He may be a child, and he may be weak but he was not done hobbling across this world. Not yet.

[Attacks Charlotte]
onr_kkQ6knife
[Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage]

He managed to nick the girl's cheek; a small victory for a small boy. Charlotte's knife wedged itself between his shoulder blades and this time Erebus let out a scream. It echoed between the buildings and over the the empty dry earth. Every yelp of pain he had held back, every scream of anguish he tried to control was released in that single wail. It dissolved into sobs as the boy dropped to the ground, trying to see through the red dots that were taking over his vision.

Trying to force air into his battered lungs, Erebus watched blood drip from his lips to the ground forming tiny scarlet ponds. A cannon shook the arena filling his ears and shaking the ground beneath him. Was it for him? No, no it couldn't be. He could still feel pain scratching at his insides. People always said that when you die you don't feel pain anymore. Of course no one knows for sure, but Erebus always liked to believe in things like that. Useless, paper thin speeches to make people feel better. He used to find comfort in them but he couldn't find anything now but empty words.

Closing his eyes, Erebus tried to hold back the tears that kept coming not matter how much he wished them to stop. What was it his mother told him? "It's okay to cry because it hurts. No use pretending it doesn't."

Kneeling in the dirt, Erebus felt so small. The thought of his mother's voice made him feel like a little child again. He wished she was here now. He wished he hadn't spent the last few years pushing her away so he could be older and independent. The boy would do anything to have her fix his collar or fix his neck tie again. He wanted to feel safe in her arms again but all he had was the hot dry air and his killer looming over him. I'm sorry mom, I'm so sorry I couldn't be like Lethe. I'm sorry I failed.

Despite all the dark feelings swirling around in the boy's mind, a little memory filled his head like a lantern through a fog. It was when Lethe was in the Games, the night before the finale would take place. The odds had not been in her favor and The Turner clan hadn't slept a wink. Erebus and his sisters started crying and that's when their mother had swooped in to comfort them despite the tears in her own eyes.

"If Lethe dies children, If that career from Two ki- ends her life, it doesn't mean she failed. It doesn't mean she's lost. It means she did her best and I don't want anyone thinking that her best wasn't enough. It was enough. Your best doesn't always mean winning, it means staying true to yourself. And we'll all be proud of her, won't we?"

He hoped they were proud of him. The boy hoped that his strong, Victor sister was pleased with her little brother who stumbled through the games the best he could. He hoped his mother was proud of both her daughter and her son. He hoped... he hoped he hadn't disappointed anyone.

Hauling himself up with the help of his walking stick, Erebus forced his eyes to stay open. They were ringed with red and had a hard time focusing on the figure in front of him, but he was standing and he was alive. Another cannon pierced the the air; another one not for him. 

Do you see me, mom? I hope I'm everything you wanted me to be.

[Attacks Charlotte]
B2tUiTK6knife
[Block -- 0.0 damage]