i'm waking up { mercy vs zombie wylla | day 3 }
Feb 26, 2018 12:40:55 GMT -5
Post by solo on Feb 26, 2018 12:40:55 GMT -5
Gabriel's become sick from the altitude.
At least, that's what Mercy hopes it is. They were able to treat Raven's wound, and she's quite certain that rotting creature didn't get it's claws on Gabriel, but what if it did? What if he's been poisoned? The four of them huddle around Gilly's fire, praying it's nothing but altitude sickness and that they'll be able to move on in the morning.
The cold has become normal now. Stiffened fingers and lips that are hard to move, Mercy has kept her mouth shut for most of the day. But she needs to talk. Gabe used to be able to listen to her for hours at a time, but he's not here now, so she has to come up with other means to keep herself busy.
The girl's frozen fingers find the laces of her boots and start fiddling with those, tying and untying them, gathering them in six and then seven different knots, until it's almost impossible for her to unravel the string again.
She jumps when Gilly scoots over to sit with her. The kid is silent, but Mercy can feel her tiny fingers in her hair, smoothing it out and pulling it back. She flinches and then forces herself to relax. Their weapons are in their packs. It wouldn't make sense for Gilly to try to hurt her at this point. She releases a slow, long breath, and closes her eyes. She's safe.
Or at least, that's what she likes to tell herself.
"Did you have any brothers or sisters?" Gilly's voice is still high-pitched, reminding Mercy just how young she is. The kid shouldn't be here, she knows that. "They told my mom she couldn't have any but then she had me, and now it's just the three of us."
Sounds awful lonely.
She hesitates, looking down at her boots in the snow. She's not sure she wants to talk about home. But it's Gilly, and Mercy finds herself having a harder and harder time saying no to her. "I've got one. His name's Gabriel, if you can believe that."
She manages to laugh. It feels forced, but it sounds real, and maybe it'll come across that way. Maybe not.
"If he's anything like Gabriel I bet he's a good brother."
Gilly's fingers work through her curls, twisting them together into something Mercy can't see. Something she'll probably never see, she realizes, unless she survives. And what are the odds of that?
"I think it must be nice to have a brother. I think it's kind of lonely without one."
"Yeah, it is nice." Mercy looks down and twists her fingers together. One over the other, weaving, twisting. She wishes they were as flexible as her hair. Maybe then she wouldn't have to worry about breaking them when she had nothing else to do.
"I guess that explains me. My dad calls me crazy, 'cause I spend so much time in make believe. But then he also always told me I can be whoever I wanted, so I like being me."
You don't seem very crazy. Her words are swallowed down before they have a chance to tumble into the frigid air and disappear.
"I'm glad for you. And Gabe. And Raven. I just want you to know that, because--you should know that, after all this. I really like who you are."
Mercy looks down at her feet again, and to her surprise, she smiles. Embarrassed, shy, unpracticed. Smiling isn't her forte. But it's real, even when the girl sitting behind her can't see it.
"Thanks. I don't hear that a lot." her words are stiff and manufactured in her mind before she says them. She's not used to compliments, not used to seeing the good things. Why would she, when the world is going to hell? Gabe told her angels were real, but she never believed him.
He said sometimes it was just hard to see their wings.
"You're not all that bad either, you know. You're very brave." she serious this time. Gilly is brave, that much would be clear to a blind man.
Her fingers twist the braid together at the end, and Mercy decide she's finished. "I'm scared all the time here. But it helps if I think about helping my friends rather than just staying alive, especially when they're so brave."
Mercy wraps her arms around her knees and watches as Gilly shuffles back to her bag.
I am a lot of things.
But I am not brave.
She started to notice the bodies last night. Once Exar and Eva had fled, she spotted them, little dark shapes dotting the mountainside. At first she thought they were other tributes. But then she ran into one, kicked it with her boot, and realized it was a body she didn't recognize.
When she found a second, she thought there was something familiar about it's grey, mangled face.
By the third, she realized she knew their names. Their districts. Their homes.
What (or who) killed them.
Her stomach twists into a knot and she feels like retching, but when nothing comes out, she realizes she hasn't eaten since she was dropped here.
They slept as far as they could from the bodies, but even that was a difficult task when so many littered the snow drifts around them.
Morning comes and, with some reluctance, she wanders off from her sleeping allies. Gabriel might still be sick. She didn't spend much time at the plants station, but she remembers a bit. Maybe she can find something that will help him. She's sick of the mountainside, and anything that can get them moving faster is a welcome idea. At the moment, they're nothing but a bunch of sitting ducks, waiting for the wolves to kill them.
It isn't until the camp has disappeared behind her that she realizes any plants that would be of use are buried deep under the snow. She stops, and irritation bubbles up in her chest like boiling water.
"Damn it."
She kicks at the nearest mound of snow. "Damn the cold and damn this God-forsaken mountain, and damn the stupid Capitol for putting us here." her voice raises and she glances up at the sky, as if that'll make any difference. "You hear that? Damn you, Fenwick!"
They don't care. She knows they don't.
But at least it makes her feel better.
She glances down and her anger dissipates as suddenly as it came, her eyes connecting with the blank, mournful sockets of a little girl buried in the snow. There's a toy shipped clutched in her hands.
Lysander.
"Don't look at me like that."
The creature's head moves, tilts to the side, like a curious puppy. And then it sits up.
Mercy's breath is caught in her throat, strangled, and she steps back with wide eyes. "You're dead."
Grey skin and a twisted expression, Mercy can see the child's teeth through a rotting cheek. "Dead?" her voice is garbled and unnerving, familiar but not at the same time. She stands, slowly, her dress torn in places and unraveling at the hems.
Mercy's gaze flickers back and forth in panic, searching for one of her allies. "Raven? Gabriel?" she calls for them, but no one comes.
The girl steps towards her and her mouth twists into a grin.
"I said, you're dead!"
At least, that's what Mercy hopes it is. They were able to treat Raven's wound, and she's quite certain that rotting creature didn't get it's claws on Gabriel, but what if it did? What if he's been poisoned? The four of them huddle around Gilly's fire, praying it's nothing but altitude sickness and that they'll be able to move on in the morning.
The cold has become normal now. Stiffened fingers and lips that are hard to move, Mercy has kept her mouth shut for most of the day. But she needs to talk. Gabe used to be able to listen to her for hours at a time, but he's not here now, so she has to come up with other means to keep herself busy.
The girl's frozen fingers find the laces of her boots and start fiddling with those, tying and untying them, gathering them in six and then seven different knots, until it's almost impossible for her to unravel the string again.
She jumps when Gilly scoots over to sit with her. The kid is silent, but Mercy can feel her tiny fingers in her hair, smoothing it out and pulling it back. She flinches and then forces herself to relax. Their weapons are in their packs. It wouldn't make sense for Gilly to try to hurt her at this point. She releases a slow, long breath, and closes her eyes. She's safe.
Or at least, that's what she likes to tell herself.
"Did you have any brothers or sisters?" Gilly's voice is still high-pitched, reminding Mercy just how young she is. The kid shouldn't be here, she knows that. "They told my mom she couldn't have any but then she had me, and now it's just the three of us."
Sounds awful lonely.
She hesitates, looking down at her boots in the snow. She's not sure she wants to talk about home. But it's Gilly, and Mercy finds herself having a harder and harder time saying no to her. "I've got one. His name's Gabriel, if you can believe that."
She manages to laugh. It feels forced, but it sounds real, and maybe it'll come across that way. Maybe not.
"If he's anything like Gabriel I bet he's a good brother."
Gilly's fingers work through her curls, twisting them together into something Mercy can't see. Something she'll probably never see, she realizes, unless she survives. And what are the odds of that?
"I think it must be nice to have a brother. I think it's kind of lonely without one."
"Yeah, it is nice." Mercy looks down and twists her fingers together. One over the other, weaving, twisting. She wishes they were as flexible as her hair. Maybe then she wouldn't have to worry about breaking them when she had nothing else to do.
"I guess that explains me. My dad calls me crazy, 'cause I spend so much time in make believe. But then he also always told me I can be whoever I wanted, so I like being me."
You don't seem very crazy. Her words are swallowed down before they have a chance to tumble into the frigid air and disappear.
"I'm glad for you. And Gabe. And Raven. I just want you to know that, because--you should know that, after all this. I really like who you are."
Mercy looks down at her feet again, and to her surprise, she smiles. Embarrassed, shy, unpracticed. Smiling isn't her forte. But it's real, even when the girl sitting behind her can't see it.
"Thanks. I don't hear that a lot." her words are stiff and manufactured in her mind before she says them. She's not used to compliments, not used to seeing the good things. Why would she, when the world is going to hell? Gabe told her angels were real, but she never believed him.
He said sometimes it was just hard to see their wings.
"You're not all that bad either, you know. You're very brave." she serious this time. Gilly is brave, that much would be clear to a blind man.
Her fingers twist the braid together at the end, and Mercy decide she's finished. "I'm scared all the time here. But it helps if I think about helping my friends rather than just staying alive, especially when they're so brave."
Mercy wraps her arms around her knees and watches as Gilly shuffles back to her bag.
I am a lot of things.
But I am not brave.
*
She started to notice the bodies last night. Once Exar and Eva had fled, she spotted them, little dark shapes dotting the mountainside. At first she thought they were other tributes. But then she ran into one, kicked it with her boot, and realized it was a body she didn't recognize.
When she found a second, she thought there was something familiar about it's grey, mangled face.
By the third, she realized she knew their names. Their districts. Their homes.
What (or who) killed them.
Her stomach twists into a knot and she feels like retching, but when nothing comes out, she realizes she hasn't eaten since she was dropped here.
They slept as far as they could from the bodies, but even that was a difficult task when so many littered the snow drifts around them.
Morning comes and, with some reluctance, she wanders off from her sleeping allies. Gabriel might still be sick. She didn't spend much time at the plants station, but she remembers a bit. Maybe she can find something that will help him. She's sick of the mountainside, and anything that can get them moving faster is a welcome idea. At the moment, they're nothing but a bunch of sitting ducks, waiting for the wolves to kill them.
It isn't until the camp has disappeared behind her that she realizes any plants that would be of use are buried deep under the snow. She stops, and irritation bubbles up in her chest like boiling water.
"Damn it."
She kicks at the nearest mound of snow. "Damn the cold and damn this God-forsaken mountain, and damn the stupid Capitol for putting us here." her voice raises and she glances up at the sky, as if that'll make any difference. "You hear that? Damn you, Fenwick!"
They don't care. She knows they don't.
But at least it makes her feel better.
She glances down and her anger dissipates as suddenly as it came, her eyes connecting with the blank, mournful sockets of a little girl buried in the snow. There's a toy shipped clutched in her hands.
Lysander.
"Don't look at me like that."
The creature's head moves, tilts to the side, like a curious puppy. And then it sits up.
Mercy's breath is caught in her throat, strangled, and she steps back with wide eyes. "You're dead."
Grey skin and a twisted expression, Mercy can see the child's teeth through a rotting cheek. "Dead?" her voice is garbled and unnerving, familiar but not at the same time. She stands, slowly, her dress torn in places and unraveling at the hems.
Mercy's gaze flickers back and forth in panic, searching for one of her allies. "Raven? Gabriel?" she calls for them, but no one comes.
The girl steps towards her and her mouth twists into a grin.
"I said, you're dead!"
{ mercy attacks zombie wylla | knife }
||t|wPZWknife
{ 2178 -- Deep Gash on Right Calf -- 8.0 + 1.0 (blades) }
||t|wPZWknife
{ 2178 -- Deep Gash on Right Calf -- 8.0 + 1.0 (blades) }
