Do You Wanna Kill Some Hellhounds? {DNs v HHs}

So you want to play with magic,
You should know what you're falling for.

The cold is deadly. The wind batters my hair against my pale cheeks; my icy locks are blown past my eyes obscuring my view. I’m lying down inside an igloo, but the air manages to sneak in and take advantage of my love for relaxation and sleep. My hand reaches out to touch one of the light blue stained bricks which lie perfectly above my head. They are flaky, and as my finger rubs against the cold surface, I feel a drip fall onto the middle of my forehead. The thin muscles tense underneath my skin – my eyebrows meeting them in the middle, smearing a frown right across my face. It’s so fucking cold.

I think about what a hectic day it has been. How warm I felt at breakfast; Patricia and Zeki by my side. It was beginning to feel like home. They were starting to make me feel accepted, like I was on top of the world: like a family. But oh how quickly the comfort changed. Within a few hours of sloppily gulping my oatmeal, I was getting ready to enter this arena. I was feeling cold, alone and afraid. I hope I didn’t show it, I wanted potential sponsors to know that I’m stone. I hope that my performance so far has reassured them.

Suddenly, music offers me a comfortable coat which wraps around me easily. I move out of the igloo, trying not to wake Bree, Gaia or Mystic. I poke my head out the entrance, forced to retreat for a quick moment because of the chilling wind. I inhale a deep breath and try again – this time managing to keep my head out in the air for a relatively decent time. The music turns sickly as the faces of the fallen tributes appear in the cascading colours of the night sky. Their faces are distorted by the swirling colours, yet still manage to do them justice and offer them the tribute they deserve.

Hedvig Fabre, District Two
Dillon Hartman, District Three
Zeki Webb, District Five
Velocity Rush, District Eight
Levi Izar-Krane, District Eleven
Kolton Enim, District Twelve

The first two names slip my mind. I’d never interacted with them during the training centre or beyond. But then the third name cuts into my ears like a blade that has been sharpened for thousands of years. Zeki Webb, District Five. Zeki Webb. Zeki. He’s gone, as quickly as I can click my fingers. I’d seen him during the bloodbath, I thought I’d caught his eye. It’s written in history now. I wish I could’ve told him that he deserves the greatest luck of all. He did everything with the best intentions, even if it didn’t like it to others. He was one of the few that cared. He cared about me. And that is what is hurting me the most.

I take a deep breath and watch as the swaying faces are pasted into the night sky. They dance past my eyes slowly, absorbing all of the feelings felt from the other tributes, family members and friends. Velocity Rush. The girl from District Eight who was so beautiful, so pretty. I imagine that she would be the silent killer. Levi Izar-Krane. He seemed unique. I can’t seem to remember much about him, but he’s dead now. He’s dead and gone. Kolton Enim. He was allied with Zeki. I’m beginning to feel something happened after the bloodbath. Perhaps they were hunted by one of the career alliances? Maybe they had a run in with a nasty mutt. I don’t want to think about it, yet it cracks and wrecks the strong walls I put up, forcing its way back into my thoughts. Stop, stop, stop it.

Six deaths on the first day. The Capitol will be cheering fericously. The gamesmakers will be happy. I wonder if any of the cameras had been on me. My family would have had to see me fight and watch people around me drop dead like flies. Blood flooded around me, leaving me stranded in a mess of pain and hurt. I hope they looked away, because it makes me feel awful thinking that my little sister and brother watched me. My mother too – her eyes pinned firmly on my flimsy frame, flopping around in a bath of confusion. No. Stop thinking about stuff like this, Pixie. It’ll do you no good.

I sit outside the igloo for a moment. My fingers dive deeply into the pure snow beneath me. I try to feel for a solid ground, but there is none. I sit loosely on a bed of snow, dazed, alone, tired – my body laced with emotion and feeling. I feel my eyes begin to close with every breath I take. My breathing begins to steady, slowing my heartbeat to a pace which doesn’t ring through my eyes like I’m deafened. And then I’m gone.

~ 

I wake up smoothly, piled like a dead body on the frosty snow. I guess that is what I am, after all, it’s only a matter of time before I do become just a body. I push myself up from the ground, noticing a silver parachute landing in the snow before me. Is it for me? No one else seems to be awake. I move slowly over to them, intrigued by what’s in them. My hands open them cautiously, and a water bottle slithers in between my fingers. Thank you. I’m glad someone is finding me entertaining enough to waste their money buying me things crucial to my survival. Some might ask if it is a waste then, but it is. They’ll know I’ll die soon enough and I know it too.

We’re not battling against each other, we’re fighting our own battles against time.

Soon enough, the other three wake up from their slumber. I’m tempted to ask how their night was, yet I decide to steer clear of the question. I look sketchily between them, my mouth sewn closed with tight, thick stitches. I won’t say a word. I’ll just follow their lead and do what they want. It’s only a matter of time before we collect our things together and start to move away from the igloos.

We move quickly, and I find myself looking over my shoulder at my footsteps which tattoo themselves into the snow behind me. I hope no one finds them and follows us all up here. That would be hell. I look back in front of us, and notice a castle which seems to have happened out of nowhere. It’s grand and fascinating. It draws us all in, I watch the amazement sweep across Bree, Mystic and Gaia’s face, one by one.

We begin to scale stairs made only from ice. It’s all so beautiful. Cold but beautiful. The beauty lasts for a short minute, before being destroyed by the ghastly roaring of a monster which guards the entrance. As we reach the top, we each receive the final blow. Four hellhounds, ready and raring to kill us all. Their faces haunt me, and the atmosphere scares me.

So you want to play with magic,
You should know what you're falling for.

Fuck. That hurts. It attacks me and it fucking hurts. Who’d have thought it, something so gross and monstrous could cause so much pain? I guess it’s a given, really. Especially considering the situation where it’s either kill or be killed.
I realise that I’ve got to keep fighting and push the pain to the back of my mind. Lock it up and throw away the key – perfect. I stumble backwards due to the attack, but manage to regain my first stance. My teeth grind together, my jaw clenches. I hold my harpoon fiercely in my right hand and lunge forward at the beast in hopes that it’ll maim or injure the beast.
“Fuck you.”
I say, thinking about how it’d be a dream come true if my effort killed the ugly thing.