The Fiend and His Fools // UGG vs. FFG vs. Mutt, Day 5

Down in the deep
Where the sirens sing
And hide in the muddy water
Blood on my hands
And the moonlit sand

She honestly hadn’t appreciated them trying to drag her out of her misery. Sometimes she just needed a little bit of time to work her own way through it. They weren’t Anabella, she was the only person who had been able to push past those walls and make it all feel better. They weren’t her best friend. Her best friend was dead. She resented it, the way they tried to pretend to make her feel better, the way they tried to act as though it would be alright. It’s not what she needed to hear, not what she wanted to hear.

Silence was the best response, Anabelle had always been good at that. She didn’t insert herself but rather was a wall of warmth that would simply exist beside you. That warmth penetrated deep within the cracks of your broken heart and as she gently rubbed your back or leaned against you, it just felt better. Whatever pain you were suffering felt manageable, it was a bearable burden.

Meredith had torn herself free from Arabella, moved away from Lysander, gaze burning as she trudged through the water. Her clothes were soaked, head to toe, but it didn’t matter.

When night fell, Cyro’s face didn’t appear in the sky, and after a moment of shock, she had finally allowed herself to breathe in reality. The puzzle pieces she had been trying to put together fell in place. Seeing Zenia had allowed Meredith to connect the dots, but watching Cyro die and yet not die solidified it. They had more than one life in this arena.

There were still puzzle pieces that required filling. Based on the faces in the sky and the canons, it seemed that there was something more sinister beneath that simple truth. There was a shambled notion of what it could be, and Meredith knew that the sky tonight would verify it. If his face didn’t show tonight she would go and find him come tomorrow, but if it did-

She turned her exhausted gaze to the sky, the rain was finally starting to let off, a glimpse of stars showing beneath a cloud-covered sky. She had no tears left to cry, instead, she let the rain that fell on her cheeks be the pain for her, feeling each of them roll down her chin. The goosebumps that littered her skin were an echo of the coldness in her heart as much as the brush of the night air.

Feeling nothing was the better option, and part of her could understand why Victor tried to beat it out of them. The string that tied her sense of self to her being was all that kept her human, but being human didn’t feel like it was worth it anymore. Maybe she should just cut it, let that part of her go as the crimson sea beneath her feet pulled. Let it drag itself out to sea and disappear, drown that part of Meredith that had cared for Finn’s hand. That part of herself that hoped that one day she might remember what her mother’s face looked like.

Just let go.

A trembling finger traced the scar that ran up her arm, when she was cold they skin ached, a constant reminder of what Victor had tried to teach her.

“I think I made the wrong choice,” she told the stars, hands falling to her sides as she stared unto the darkness. All hearts are the same, they’re brittle and weak and shatter like glass.

“I’d already be dead if I hadn’t volunteered,” the words were carried by the night air, lost to anyone but her own ears. “I wouldn’t be hurting anymore.”

I was too scared to let Will kill me the other day, I should have let him.

---

Another night with no sleep. She had found herself too lost to stop her mind from racing. Today Meredith had taken the lead, but at some point just as the sun had begun to rise the Spire had disappeared, vanishing with a blink of her eyes. Lysander and Arabella were dragging behind, the wound to her allies leg was problematic and Meredith hadn’t had the patients to pull her along.

She was sure she had seen it right there, her gaze had traveled the area around her, but it had really just disappeared. She gaped, eyes wide as she tried to figure out why the fuck it was gone. Fucking hell. At this point, she was too tired to care. She shook off the irritation with a heavy sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. They were still heading in the right direction, so she continued onwards, glancing back briefly to make sure Arabella and Lysander hadn’t fallen too far behind.

“Come on guys, hurry up-”

There’s a group of tributes, one of them yelling like some crazy banshee. Next second later a mutt explodes into the fight and Meredith dives out of the way, scrambling to her feet in time to feel pain burst across her chest-

Fuck.

She gasped, fighting for air as she fell onto her back, pain exploding throughout her entire body.

Get up.

It hurts.

The sky above her is bright, the wind a gentle kiss, teasing her as she battles with her lungs to breathe. It shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t.

Get up.

I can’t.

She can see Will’s knife before her, can see the way his hand had moved to the blade after she had asked him to save her.

Get up.

If she wanted Will to save her she had to get the fuck up. I’m scared. Her hands trembled as she slowly pulled herself to her feet, breath coming in agonising wheezes as her fingers reached for the blades at her belt.

When she looked up there was no one before her, no mutt, no other tributes. Her eyes widened and suddenly as the wind shifted Anabelle was there, wrapped in smoke and sunshine. That same gentle look was on her face, the same one she had shown to Meredith before Victor had dragged her away to her death. She smiled, sunlight flickering across her expression like the warmth of summer’s day.

“You were always stronger than me, Meredith,” she said, and Meredith felt the tears spring to her eyes and she took in a painfilled breath. Her lungs burned, fire spreading through her body. It seemed that more than just her spirit had been broken. Anabelle moved closer until she stood right in front of Meredith, she was a whole head shorter now. She hadn’t even noticed she had grown taller, so much time had passed.

She had never wanted to be stronger, only braver, then maybe she would have had the courage to save her best friend.

Anabelle moved her hand away from her dress and Meredith’s eyes widened as she was greeted with a beating heart. The blood that seeped from it with every thump dripped into the grass before them, her stomach tightened as the taste of blood filled her mouth. She reached a shaking hand up to her own chest, past the jagged flesh and blood, the scrap of bone on her palm as she searched for the beat of her own heart. She listened, Anabelle’s smile tender as she watched Meredith.

“Is -is that-”

“You’re still alive, it’s still beating, Meredith.” She pulled out her other hand, a blade flashing in the early sunlight. Meredith stared, swallowing stiffly as she recognized the gleaming steel, it was the very one she had watched Will play with as she had spoken to him. Anabelle twisted the blade in her hand, offering it to Meredith with a grin. “This is the one you want, right?”

Meredith nodded feeling numb. “Then survive until we can get back to him.”

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's only me, and I walk alone

Broken pieces.

The past year of her life, she had spent her time picking up after herself. In the beginning, each time a piece would fall she would try to glue it back on. Eventually there were too many lost pieces, and she let herself fall apart.

Too scared to put herself back together again.

Too scared of who she might become.

Her leg ached in the morning dew. Not properly healed and stiff from sleeping with it straight. Lysander grunted as she forced herself up, tossing her bag over her shoulder. She was in pain, but she dare not open her mouth. She was the oldest now, it was her responsibility to take care of the others not that Cyro was gone.

And suddenly her heart started to ache more than her broken bones.

Meredith set out in front of them without as little as a good morning when they woke. Since his death she had not been the same. Distant and quiet, she seemed to have taken it the hardest. For once it wasn't Lysander who was falling apart.

It was Meredith.

She did her best to keep up with the speeding girl, but every step she took sent a shock wave of pain through her entire leg. Her weapon only lent so much support and even though the boots could hover she was too terrified to try. She was uncoordinated on the ground, she couldn't imagine it being much better in the air. Bella balanced between the two of them, clearly not wanting to leave Lysander behind, but also not wanting to lose sight of Meredith.

“I know people say slow and steady wins the race, but they probably don’t have blood thirsty teenagers on their tail. We may be the turtle but chasing us is defiantly not a rabbit, more like a tiger! We gotta move. Here let me carry that for you-"

Lysander stops her before she finishes her sentence, her eyes cutting into her like daggers.

"I can handle myself, thanks."

With as much confidence as she could muster she took another step forward, only to stumble once more and an array of curses fall from her tongue. Her dignity had disappeared, the least she could do was accept the kind gesture. She took her bag from her back and handed it to her ally.

"Thank you."

She must have been careless this morning because the items of the bag fall one by one to the ground, and Arabella does her best to keep her patience.

"Damnit Lys, you need to-"

Before she had finished Lysander had come crashing down on top of her. She had dared to continue to walk forward, but something was in her way, a large and quite painful something. After taking a moment to catch her breath she pulled herself gingerly off Bella and stood up.


“Damn it Lys, watch where you’re going- I know your arms are broken but your eyes aren’t or did you forget your glasses... wait, what...?"

She took her palm to her forehead and rubbed the spot that had plowed into a solid wall. She was certain she ran into something, but there was nothing there. Was the arena playing tricks? Or had the alcohol creeped back into her system?

“I swear I’ve stopped hallucinating. I have no idea what I just ran into, but there’s definitely something there.”

Her hand was just about to reach out to find the mysterious object when Meredith's call echoed around them. Three different tributes stood in front of them, none that she recognized or could name. No one looked the same here, they became lost when they stepped off the platform.

"Any of you die yet?"

"So I'm not the only drunk in this Arena."

The girl repeats herself, harsher, angrier.

"Uh no, what are you talking about?"

Slowly pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place. The girl she swore was dead, the missing tributes. But there is no time to thing because in seconds they're after Meredith, searching for blood. Her leg falls to the ground with a thud, and suddenly she's thankful that hers was only broken.

"I hate to break it to you Mer, but I think reattaching your leg exceeds my talents."

They were falling apart. Not only literally, but mentally. Meredith had not been the same since his death. Her mind was fragile, threatening to shatter at any given moment. Lysander had been lost for a long time, but surprisingly she had begun to find herself again.

Finally she was almost complete.

Now it was time to put the others back together.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's only me, and I walk alone

Daemon's blade dripping with Meredith's blood slices through the air. Arabella turns in time to see it flash in Lysander's direction. No, no, no, no, noooo. The sword escapes dripping with new blood. Lysander's. After a moment the girls arm, from the elbow, falls to the dirt. Face fulled back in distraught Arabella's cry escapes her lips to late.

It was happening again.

Like yesterday, Arabella watches helplessly as her allies are butchered. Cryo's body falling to the ground flashes before her, then in the next blink its Mer's, her eyes turned to Arabella, lifeless, as her body collides with the earth. Dead. Then its Lysander's, her lips pulled back in a cry of agony, her hair tossed across the her face as she lands hard, her breath escaping her lungs for the last time. Chest heaving she forces herself to push the images to the back of her mind, she forces herself to concentrate on the reality, on the battle before them. Shaking her head roughly she clears her mind. It's not real, it's not real. Cryo is dead. Mer and Lys are alive. Alive.

Her eyes find Mer, alive her knife escaping her fingers right towards the boy from six. Alive.

Next they seek out Lysander. The pain that pulled at the features of her face made Arabella's mouth thin. It hurt her to see the girl in so much pain, but at least she was alive. Though in the back of her mind she had a lingering question, one that made her stomach clench, that made her blood turn cold: would it all be worth it in the end? She remembers her conversation with Jade. Jade had told her that she wouldn't be able to handle the crown that came with winning the games. She had told in in more or less words that she was too weak. She had told her that she would wilt under the pressure because she was not a warrior. And that to survive this Arena you had to be a warrior before you step foot into the games.

And maybe Arabella would wilt. But just like she had thought back then, she would have Katelyn, Harbinger, Kirito and Kass to help relieve some of that pressure, to help her make it through. To help her live.

Arabella needed to believe that it would be worth it. That everything that she had done, the sins that she had committed, would be worth it. Because if she stopped believing that would mean that she would fall apart. And already her grasp on herself was so very weak. She could not afford for herself to slip once more.

Her eyes darting to the boy from Six once again. He was dangerous. Two strikes at her allies and he had caused damage that was irreversible. Arabella knew that the right move to make would be to strike him, to swing her blade at the boys neck, striking in the same place that Meredith's knife had. But she couldn't move. She couldn't do it. Just like when she held that rock in her shaking hands, right above Jades head. She had killed Cyro, ripped him out of her desperate hands... and... and yet she had not been able to kill her. She had been dying, her stomach torn to shreds, her skin pale due to the loss of blood. And Arabella had just let the rock slip between her shaking hands, her knees crashing into the saturated sand, her body shaking.

Just like now, her hands hesitate.

She wanted so bad to be the lion that Katelyn had told her to become. She wanted to be the warrior that she had vowed she would be... But, but no matter how much she wanted it, no matter how many tears she shed, she was not strong enough. She was weak, so instead of aiming her blade at a tribute she turns once again towards the mutt. Her eyes glaze over, her lips parting in a frustrated growl, "AARRGH!"