this cannot be real ; ee/ee+ls/rb+ia/ck [ day 1.5 ]

L A Z A R U S

He is five years old, with twigs for limbs and a mind as vast as the sky that watches him from above, wonderlands and fairytales twisting and turning in the landscape around him. Now, he is a daredevil, scling mountains and tightroping across canyons and- he breathes, placing one foot in front of the other as he walks along the fence post, weight shifting as he presses forward. 

Unsteady, the sole of his foot hits a nail and he recoils back, raising his leg up with tears in his eyes. 

Down becomes up-

and he falls. 

---

Up becomes down-

and he falls. 

He hits a stair with a thud, his head slamming off the wood and octopus clutching around him. Vaguely during the Bloodbath he had hoped that the squishy fuck would be something of a support if he were to get hit in the head- he was wrong. 

Vertigo fingertips tighten around his body as he stands, shaking his head from the impact and taking a moment to survey his surroundings. It is chaos, more than fish in the sky and blood pools at his feet. Down is up, up is sideways, left is right and right is non-existent, tributes bodies slamming into staircases and floors and ceilings alike as they tried to escape the mess that they were thrown into. 

He wonders for a moment, reaches deep back into the void of his mind and thinks about if he had ever imagined anything like this as a child, before everything went black and red like roses-

"Laz, this way!" 

Raven calls his name from above, her heels are pressed to the ceiling and she is teetering, trying desperately to regain her balance and he grapples onto a stairway to his right, pulling himself up before slamming into it, groaning from the sudden change in gravity. Fuck. This place was an imagination gone awry-

He hadn't had much of an imagination ever since they brought him back, steel pressed to flesh and sword stuck in his spine. He gulps, making his way to Raven, eyes filled with fire and lip split. Blood trickles down his chin and he is rabid, vision red and body trembling with annoyance. 

"This place is already on my nerves." 

He mumbles it, just loud enough for the walls to hear. His words hang heavy in the air for a moment, sour with anger before his eyes widen as he sees a figure dart towards them-

"Raven, watch out!-" 

It's too late, he's too late and white knuckles press themselves into her hand, like glass shattering she recoils and he, in his moment of surprise feels hands press against his side with all the force they could muster. 

He stumbles sideways, Octopus on his back recoiling as he nearly topples over the edge of the staircase to his left, barely managing to grab the railing before he falls. 

If he fell, would he fall up? 

Shut up and fight, he swears the creature on his back mumbles. 

"Put up your dukes, big boy. Let's see if you fight as good as you kiss."

Raven taunts him and he grunts in response, pulling his body up from the edge of the railing and cracking his neck-

"Gentleman in the sheets, killer in the streets, right?" 

He charges up a wall, taking advantage of the change in gravity before pushing off, sending himself flying towards the boy from six, knuckles white-

and vision red.

L A Z A R U S

He's seeing double.

He topples to the ground with the boy from six, Ingran, his name lingers against the back of his mind before dissolving into nothing. They hit the ground hard, and he hears him groan in protest before rolling off him, his fists going up instinctively as he gets to his feet, white knuckles fading in and out of view as he glances around the fight around him. 

There's two of them, with fists swinging and forms molded from the same flame, one speaks and he tastes poison heavy in her lungs, swirling and tumbling from her lips, singing the ground and he narrows his eyes, Eckhart. 

Death wish suicide pact, they came into this in threes and he bites his lip as she speaks about  the person she cares about most, rolling his eyes at the afterthought. Sooner or later, she'd be forced to kill them- if someone else didn't get to it first. 

Fingertips scrape against the back of his head and he stumbles forwards, black spots clouding his vision and he can see them, his family, shrouded around the edges of his vision with arms beckoning him towards them-

He blinks and they become his attackers, with sword in hand and words in throat and he sees his sister's eyes, lifeless and fading, hears her voice in his ears. 

"It's me- it's me- it's me-" 

"Fucking bitch." 

He swings wildly behind him, fingers curling around the ghost handle of a knife he doesn't possess, eyes widening and jaw set. The girl dances around his swing, barely ducking out of the way and he regains his footing, eyes darting between the girl, her twin, and the boy from six. Water pools at his feet, gushing from the walls and as he blinks it turns to blood, their blood his blood, splattered against the floors like paint against canvas. He breathes, taking a few steps backwards and pressing his foot into the staircase to his left.

Gravity wraps fingers around his reality and he feels his stomach drop as he's suddenly watching the fight from below, hearing the words of Castor Karmichael ring in his ears 

”Is anyone going to back away, or is this gonna turn bloody?”

He grins from below her, above her, he'd remembered her name because she'd volunteered with a sibling like him, two fates tied together like a knot. 

"Sweetie, I think we've already hit the point of bloody." 

His words hang dead in the air for what seems like an eternity before Raven proves his point, slamming her fists down into one of the twins' heads-

He hears a sickening crunch, and in the back of his mind he can swear he hears the shotgun bang, but it isn't his skull splitting. 

His eyes widen as blood falls up, roses leaking from her head before her body follows suit, hitting his ceiling in a heap and he takes his chance.

Silence, waiting, it is the ugly cousin that Death feels obligated to bring to the hangout. He's seen it before, when he watched a woman die, when Scarlett killed a man. 

His form lurches forward as he climbs the stairs again, the shift in gravity throwing him off and he throws a simple sentence at Castor, nodding towards the crumbled heap of the one of the Eckharts.

"Case in point." 

And just as the silence ends, he swings.