a little chaos // danny vs atticus ; day 8

It hurt when my axe made Sol Shim slowly slide down to the ground. It hurt when I listened to him speak, drop the flower crown, and fall to his death. It hurt to know that I had killed someone with a family who loved them, who cared for them. Sol had people who loved him, including myself. He was one of the people that you wouldn't trade for the moon. He's worth more than all the gold in the world because he's truly a good person. The only thing that made him appear bad was the situation he was dragged into.

He had killed, I killed, Nell killed. Most of the people still alive in this damn arena have probably killed, but it shouldn't label us as bad people. There's better things we've had to do rather than kill and hope to survive. All twenty-four of us, even Celia, wanted to live a happy life where we didn't have to fight for the life we've been given.

I breathe, watching his body go from inside the bird cage to out of my sight. Slowly, the cage is pulled down to the bottom, allowing for my escape when there's an opening I can manage to get through.

Then, I see his body, bloody and crushed, the drop that he had plummeted from assuring that he'd never breathe again.

"Sol?" I say, acting as if his body isn't lifeless. "I hope you get to see Luna again.."

I limp away from my old ally, my now late friend, and I don't plan on returning.

And if I do, his body will be taken back to his District, but his spirit, well, who the hell knows where it'll go? Hopefully, it goes where he wanted.

Sol Shim is not a monster. He's just someone who's been hanging onto life by a thread for seven days, and it finally snapped.

Unfortunately, I was the one who finally pulled the plug on his life.

I would've appreciated him pulling my own cord. It's better than having Ezero or Celia take me down. At least Sol would've cared. So would Nell and Astrid, but the other four, they would probably just loot my own body. I tried my hardest to leave Sol's own body alone, instead of taking what he had, I left his body alone. He wasn't a treasure chest, he wasn't meant to be looted.

I stitch myself up. Nobody else was here to tend to my wounds other than myself, so I did it with care. I bandaged my leg once again, and applied many different healing methods to help me. Needles, plants, and bandages all wrap around my body once again. It seems like every single day I need these items, each one probably embedded in my body due to how many times I've had to apply them.

My nails scratch the somewhat dry blood off of my skin, and then I wipe the red tint off my axe. I don't want the memory of Sol Shim's murder around me. All it took was five swings with the lumberjack weapon to bring him down.. to break him for good.

BOOM! A second cannon shoots out in one day. There's more fighting, for sure. It seemed too staged to get trapped in a cage and them forced to fight to the death.

Six. That leaves six fighters remaining. Nell and Astrid could be among them, and if we started at eight today, at least one of them has to still be breathing.

I stayed in my corner and watched the sun rise to it's highest point and then gradually begin to fall. It has become lonely when nobody is there to have a conversation with. I'm all alone, and I doubt at this point that if I found someone knew, they wouldn't chop my head off right away. It's too late for friends, too late for conversations. It's too late to run away from a fight.

Death is something that refuses to go away. Even now as I feel better all stitched up, I still rest on death's porch, and only time can tell when I will knock. But for now, I'll just lay here, and that's my plan until I'm forced into another fight.

BOOM! This cannon happens a little while after the last, but shocks me. There's only five left, each one probably praying to Ripred that they'll be able to see their family again. Well, maybe not all five. Four at the most. I do not have a real family that I would enjoy seeing again. My parents were not my family, but instead they were my guardians, only there to care for me. There was no love. None of the feelings that I heard Sol talk about come to my mind when I think about my parents. Then, there's my family in the Games. Sol, Nell, Astrid. I wouldn't enjoy seeing them again. I would be constantly reminded of how I killed one of our own.

And so I don't go looking for anyone to pick fights with. It's not worth it when I need to save my strength for when a fight is given to me without my control.

I breathe, hoping the moon will rise and the sun will fall so I can hide. It's not worth fighting in pitch black, plus energy levels wouldn't be that high, too.

The heat doesn't stop when the sun finally falls behind the swamp and out of my sight. It's slightly cooler without the sun beaming down upon the arena, but the humidity and temperature are still too high to be comfortable with. It's been like this for seven days now, but I've yet to adapt to the climate and conditions that this arena has brought.

BOOM! The fourth cannon of the day blows. Half of the people that lived to the seventh day failed to make it to the eighth.

Shortly after, the anthem begins to ring and the small light is the only thing that helps me to see. There's four who have perished, so it's a possibility that Nell and Astrid could have both died as well.

It takes all I have to hope that it's not true.

Sol Shim, District Five. I flinch when I see his face appear in the sky. He was too good to die. Sol Shim was not a monster, he was a human who someone tried to craft into a monstrosity. He didn't deserve to die.

Nell Locke, District Five. Like Sol, I look away once I see the five on the bottom. Nell. They killed Nell, too. Nell was the single-mom of our family, while Sol, Astrid, and I seemed like we were always under her wing. I liked it, too, because I bever wnated to be in a position of power. For the first three days, I wore a mask of a Gamemaker, and I was silenced by the covering of my face. I hardly ever talked. The day that it had ripped and I didn't receive a new one, I knew there was no more hiding from the monsters and murderers. Still, even with a new self, Nell protected me likewise she protected Sol and Astrid.

As her name fades away, all I can imagine is that I protected her the same way.

Celia Mortuus, District Twelve. It makes me smile when I see her face light up in the sky. She killed Quadrys with no mercy, and now, she finally received what came to her. Death. She'd participated in Carrita, Andesite, and Lemon's death, too. That made four lives she was responsible for, and there is probably more.

Kite Tide, District Four. The blind male appears in the sky. I don't react to this one at all, but instead I just stare. He seemed so innocent, even with his flaming javelins soaring towards me a few times. I had once thought that anyone who'd associated themselves with a monster was one too, but I know that can only be false. Monsters are people who do things without being forced or asked to.

Cecelia was not a monster. Sol was not a monster. Nell was not a monster. Celia was not a monster. Ezero is not a monster. Danny is not a monster. Astrid is not a monster. This is the same for Kite Tide. He was put into a bad situation. You can't make a monster out of someone who was reaped into hell.

After the anthem and it's trumpets end, I stay awake. My eyes peeled and my ears ready to recognize any noise. Any noise that is not my own will cause me to run like hell, and I know that's a fact.

My breaths are quick and small. Deep breaths make a lot of noise, so it makes sense for someone to breathe small and quiet breaths.

Hours pass as I just stare into the darkness, waiting for sunrise so I can hopefully move.

Waiting..

Waiting..

Waiting..

I wait for a long time before the surreal colors begin to rise. Yellows, oranges, reds, pinks. They all mix into the blue sky to form a great picture. It's hard to see stuff like that back in District Three with all the pollution.

I begin to walk, pacing around the same area I had been in for awhile.

And it hurts when I see a person because I know shit is about to go down.

[attacks danny; axe]

Tyc_Kc0Laxe

result: 11178 -- Severed Left Ear -- 8.0 damage

A knife had come toward my face like a bullet. It cuts into my cheek, and my hand immediately goes to block the wound from losing blood. It hurts, but the pain doesn't compare to the injuries I've suffered for the other seven days. For days, spears, knives, and axes have stabbed into my skin, and fire has burnt me for several days. Now, blood slowly begins to drip from my cheek. When I released my hand from the wound, it was stained red.

Then, I had swung at my target with my axe, not even noticing who it was yet. I swung with all my power like Sol Shim had for three days in a row. I felt my axe slice through skin, and then part of the enemy's body went onto the floor. Blood came down the girl's face. Cutting off the girl's ear reminded me of my final blow upon Sol Shim, my axe chopping off his leg.

Ears don't grow back either, Atticus Manor.

I took something from the girl that I can't give back. My chest hurts when I swing back my axe and see the girl's ear on the mangrove's ground.

Blood has already started to drip and drop onto the ground when I finally realize it's not Astrid Shaw I'm fighting, and Ezero is not a woman. There's only four people, and I know who they are.

Ezero of Eight, Astrid from Two, and Danny from Three.

This one, without doubt, is Danny. My District partner, somebody I hardly knew. She'd hurt me only a few days ago, but my allies and I hurt her more. We killed two of their allies, leaving only her and Ezero.

We killed two of them, and I personally gave the final blow to one. It sends chills through my body when I finally realize that I did not comfort her when she was suffering. I had helped Iain Miristioma when he lost Cecelia, but I couldn't help Danny when she lost the tributes from District Seven. I can't blame her for threatening us not to move that day. She didn't want anymore blood from anyone.

I didn't comfort her when she was suffering. I should have and could have, but I didn't.

"Hello, puppet," I hear her words and their accompanied by a scary smile.

She then asks me who I killed, which of my allies I had hurt. Sol. The shining sun that eventually turned into an eruption that lead to his downfall. I was the eruption, the rush of energy that took him down. We were trapped in a bird cage, forced to fight to the death.

"You don't kill the people you care about," Danny says, finally removing her hand from her ear and instead it goes to a button. Her words are broken, "You don't, you don't do that."

Once again, her knife comes toward me, and it makes a cut to my stomach. I let one hand hold my stomach, and I reply to her.

"I didn't kill him. I helped him go home."

I swing my axe down upon her.

[attacks danny; axe]

U7NKA9hpaxe

[11113 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage]

My axe cuts into her face right after I speak. Sol Shim was meant to go home. It was his destiny to return to his cousin Luna, not to his brothers, sisters, or parents. He was meant to go to the same home as Nell Locke. They were both too good, too mentally strong to die. Both of them deserved to live longer than me, their length of time cut short in their stories. An abrupt ending to Sol Shim's story made me realize that mine could end just the same. A quick realization of my own death and then poof, homeward bound I would go.

But Danny's silly cuts won't allow my story to end so quickly. Now, don't get me wrong, the knives and javelins she has thrown at me hurt when they connected to skin, but they're nothing compared to what I've witnessed. Cecelia's burning body, Eryn's exit wound, Sol's severed leg. Those were killing blows, but these seemed more like love taps with a pool noodle. Her knives and spears still take away energy and give me pain. Now, blood comes from my wrapped up stomach, the four day old bandages wearing thin. It slowly finds it's way down my face and neck like a river. The wind of the arena smears the velvet across my face and neck, even to my mouth so I can taste the pain that Danny's knife brought me.

"In a box," her words are as cold as I want the temperatures to be. Too cold. My mind circles back to when I swung my axe at Sol Shim for the last time. The last words I spoke to him still are fresh in my mind. I told him if he wanted that home so much, I'd give it to him. And I did, my axe swiping through his lower body. Then, he was done. I was cold-hearted when killing him. I killed him because it was the right thing to do.

when is killing the right thing to do, atticus?

That, I don't quite know.

"Wake up, Atticus. No one who enters the Arena gets to go home. Not really." Once again, she puts me down. It's true, nobody who comes into the Hunger Games will come back out and go home. Physically, that is. But mentally, home is anywhere you feel truly welcomed. Whether it be at a bar, in the water, or with friends, you're at home if you want to be.

I stand tall despite the pain of my wounds only wanting to bring me down. Her words are false, and nothing more. You can go home if you want to. It's your own choice where home is, whether it be the overworld or eternal world. Quadrys is with his brother, Septys. Sol with his cousin. Iain with Cecelia, and vice versa. Home is where you belong, and if that means you have to die to go home, so be it.

There's some people who don't want a home, and these people will get that, too. They're just misfits. They don't belong anywhere, so they don't have a real home.

I don't belong, I don't belong or deserve to belong to anyone or anywhere.

"It depends on where you believe home is, Danny." I say to her, trying to act with intelligence. That's an opinion, not a fact, so she can beg to differ and I can't tell her she's wrong.

"Tell me something.." I say taking a few more breaths before I continue to fight again. I touch the wound on my neck, feeling the blood dye my finger red. Then, I grip my axe. "Where's your home?" I pose her the question before letting my weapon fall upon her.





[attacks danny; axe]

PtosLRz9axe

[11186 -- Deep Gash on Back -- 8.5 damage]

Another knife finds it's way into my cut and bruised body, allowing more blood the flow from my body. The liquid making a river down my neck sends shivers up my spine. My body once again is stained with a crimson color, just as it had been for days now. This time, however, there's a new coating, wraps around my skin on the eighth day of fighting, the eighth day of war where I've suffered injuries all over.

She denies having a home, but I know that has to be false. She has to have a home, whether it be physical or mental. The Games aside, I never knew her, and I don't recall ever seeing her face. The first time I saw her was when they shook hands before being sent off to death.

I look at her, even with pain consuming her she continues to fight on, just as Sol had only one day ago. This time, we're not caged. She can run away, while Sol only had the choice of crossing his fingers and toes in hopes of a long-shot survival.

"You think the people who die are going home? You think it’s a favor to kill them?" her words are accompanied by a spat of blood coming from her mouth. Yes, Danny, I'm doing them a favor. Sometimes, people belong in gruesome places. There's always a plan for their story, and it might not be what they intended, but a story is a story. You can't hide from it or avoid it. There's a plan, and the plan will eventually play out. The ending to my story has already been planned, but the details that surround the last few words have still yet to be written.

"Then why don't you go there yourself?" Danny's words threaten me, and I continue to stare. She's a woman of many words, comebacks to my own phrases are the only things she can say now. Her body is stained red from wounds that come from many days of hard work. She's breaking, and I can tell by the blood she's willingly let come out from her mouth. It's blood that she needs to live, and she's letting it go to waste.

Once again, I smear the blood on my cheek, the color red painting and unwanted color. I can't just stand there and feel the oozing blood come out and cluster. I keep smearing it in order to avoid the uncomfortable feeling.

"He wanted to go home. Why do you have a problem with that?" I question her before hacking my axe upon her. It's not my fault that Sol Shim had asked for death. He asked to go home, and so I let him.

I can't say I regret it, either.


[attacks danny; axe]

ioyFrdYVaxe

[11022 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damage]

The eight days of pain and wounds cause my words to be broken and angered. It has made me sick. It made me physically and mentally ill. For days I begged death to come out from his house and do what he wished. I wanted to die and give up my life because there wasn't even much to start with. All these people, Quadrys, Astrid, Nell, Sol. They've all lived for years of a life worth living.

I should have let Sol Shim live. He had a family, countless friends, and a true future ahead of him. Even if he was a murderer of three, he was a protector of three, also. He deserves to be standing here now. There would still be home for Sol if he had lived through the ultimate hell.

Blood continues to trickle down my face when Danny speaks to me once more. She tells me it's too dangerous. It's a fairytale and not a reality. But it is reality. There's more room for a family and a home when you've moved on from Panem and into a different life. All I do is shake my head, disagreeing with her but not picking a fight. We are both dying, so why fight over something so stupid?

Her knife sinks into my back, and this is the first time the pain of her javelins or knives makes me scream. I hate the pain, and I hate the way it comes to us. We're forced to give each other pain, and we have no say it what happens. We're just forced to fight each other and nothing else.

We're forced to be monsters.

We're forced to be murderers.

We're forced to break others.

We're forced to break ourselves.

She tells me that I should pray that Ezero is a forgiving person. He's not. He's a wimp who runs away from fights. Danny was the soldier of the pair. She'd even stick around with a knife towards Sol's neck to finish something beautiful for the boy from Seven.

Once again, I shake my head, but I speak instead of remain silent, "Doesn't matter who's merciful and who's not." I say, swinging my axe toward her.



[attacks danny; axe]

3ZSPEumgaxe

[total dmg]