a near defacement :: tunnel four . day three

m a r g u e r i t e

Something's got a hold of me lately
No, I don't know myself anymore
Feels like the walls are all closin' in
And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa

Their plan had been sound – find a source of water and set up camp. All of it would’ve gone according to plan had the winds not started picking up early in the morning.

At first, Marguerite had wanted them to tough it out. “It’ll finish soon. They’re probably trying to force people together somewhere.” Her voice barely cut through the howl of the wind. Flurries nipped across her ski mask and she hunkered down close to the ground. They both had covered in a second skin of thermals and coats, enough to keep out the frostbite for a while.

Except the wind remained unrelenting, and as headstrong as Maggie might’ve been, she could not will the storm into submission. Her plans once again dashed, she conceded just as her fingers started to numb that they needed to head back toward the mines.

“We’ll have to hole up in there until it passes,” She chewed her words and spat them out. Ines had to know as well as she did that if they were forced back into the mines, others would be, too. Which meant that with a faceless sky, the gamemakers were growing impatient with the lack of blood.

She fitted a coil of twine across her wrist and offered it to Ines when they’d gotten to the same exit to the mines they’d come out of yesterday afternoon (Maggie had searched for the green marking she’d made with the spray paint, though her eyes could’ve been playing tricks on her). They had to stick together, and they had to be braver than yesterday.

“Keep your head about you,” Maggie offered when the wind had hushed to a whistle. “I don’t think we’ll wind up with the same friendly reception as yesterday.”

Patience had to wearing thin on each of the other tributes, too. Every day that passed in this hellscape without another death made the little things that much harder. Maggie imagined blackened fingers and toes from those who didn’t get mittens or thermals. Those who’d failed to be sponsored water or start a fire to melt and clean the ice. Still others who had to be growing tired from exposure alone.

She padded into the entrance slowly. It’s not so much she wanted to shield Ines from whatever danger lurked in front of them, but rather, she trusted herself far more to remove whatever threat presented itself.

With every step she paused to listen. A drip of water. A clatter of rocks. And then – a voice, calling out.

… Hugo!

Her eyes widened. Her district partner. The one that had taken a shot at her in the bloodbath. Axyl must’ve been nearby.

She moved to reach for her glaive, and heard the echoing rumbles grow louder. The earth beneath feet began to shift and Maggie moved to cut the twine on her wrist.

“Save yourself!” She offered before the black swallowed her down. She pulled her limbs into herself and braced for the inevitable fall.

When she staggered to her feet, she threw herself back against the wall. She didn’t see Ines yet, but could hear more echoes, and her eyes flitted to movement in the distance.

Was that blood on the ground?

Mercy couldn’t survive in a place like this. Maggie would only move to strangle it when the timing was right. She was smart enough to know that now wasn’t the time to raise her glaive.

I shouldn't have been worried about Axyl's dick, or even mine getting frostbite.

Well, I should always be worried about that here. But after the whiteout tears daggers through our clothing and I lay flat on Butch's back as we wander through the storm, my fists tangled in his fur, all I know is that everything probably fucking has frostbite on it now. Most of all my dick.

And any pride that I had left.

The refuge that we seek in the Mines (the stupid goddamn Mines again) is as shortlived as any hope that the wolfpack ever had in Two to live a quiet life. Axyl's prescient words - "This is gonna be bad, man," ring in my ears before the ground swallows us up and everything goes dark.

I swallow dust, rocks, and earth. If I could define the word ache, it would be this: a deep bruising in your bones, the quiet pain in your chest, the fragile movements that tear you apart gently. Because that's what this feels like. We fall and fall until we crash to the floor, voices ringing in the darkness. My breath tears out of me, stolen from the impact.

I hear others, can see their shapes moving in the darkness. After days of being alone, turned soft without killing, how could I convince them that we weren't a threat? How could I show them that this was their sanctuary too? That we were as lost as they were? How could I tell them that my scars and tattoos are a testament to the fact that my body and soul are burnt to a crisp, but that the harm and violence written across my knuckles doesn't mean a fight now?

Ever since I could walk, curse, and fight, life wasn't about living. It was about surviving. And for a fleeting moment, I hold life in my hand in the form of Axyl's calloused palm before he takes off in the dark. I haul myself up, axe in my right fist, my palms slick against the wood. My eyes flash at Marguerite, jaw set before I take off after Axyl.

"We gotta keep moving."

"Dude, dude! Don't go that way! It's probably block- "

My feet follow in his footsteps. We've been doing it for days now, so it's more a habit than anything else. He knows I would follow him anywhere, ever the loyal wolf.

m a r g u e r i t e

Something's got a hold of me lately
No, I don't know myself anymore
Feels like the walls are all closin' in
And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa

Another splash of rocks tumbled down and Marguerite willed her body to press tighter against the wall. The cave ins hadn’t settled, likely magnified by the weight of tributes and the echo of voices through the shafts. She clutched her hands above her head and pulled into her knees.

‘Would you be surprised if I said that none of the tributes in this tunnel currently find me, ah, endearing?

Maggie peeked up from her spot low to the ground at the sound of five’s voice. He struck her as the sort of boy who’s braincells struggled to rub together for any sustained period, which left his head empty and full of hot air. Well – at least he was probably safe from any concussion the falling rocks could cause.

“Has anyone ever found you endearing besides your momma?” Maggie offered as the wall shook behind her.

Before she could open her mouth to skewer Lionel again, she caught a glimpse of her district partner headed the direction of Axyl’s voice. Staring daggers, she dragged along the wall to follow after him, only to pause when the rocks shifted again.

‘So which one is Hugo?’ Ines. Ines! Maggie whipped her head to face the girl from eleven with the closest thing to a smile she could manage.

“The one that looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in a month even though we’ve only been here two days. District partner. Don’t trust him.” Not that Ines should have trusted anyone, let alone cramped underneath falling rock and trapped in darkness. If they survived the cave-in, Maggie might explain how her district partner had gone for her out the gate in the bloodbath. Which – it didn’t matter, she didn’t care (she cared) he could do whatever he wanted (not that, though). District partners turning on one another was a normal part of the games (after, oh, a few days).

Felicity followed the rest of them. Of course. It wasn’t as though the girl had done anything to them when she’d had the opportunity yesterday.

Maggie couldn’t explain why she didn’t like Felicity. Especially when Ines seemed so enamored by her. Maybe she had woken up that morning and decided the sound of her voice annoyed her. Or her blond hair. Or anything, really – she just didn’t like her, and that was within her right, wasn’t it?

Another set of rocks cascaded off the wall and Maggie decided to put a pin in her irrational dislike of three.

“This way.” She would lead again, even if she didn’t know the way. Half of this had to be confidence, and, well, dumb luck.

Axyl’s voice carried out through the tunnel and Maggie caught sight of the barbed wire snaking around the edge of his baseball bat.

A reunion? The hell –

‘… So, what- gonna bash our skulls in on the rock or something?’

“The game makers are doing a pretty great job of that already, or has your fat head not noticed?” Maggie spat back. She pulled back on her glaive and offered a warning with a raised brow.

Marguerite watched Axyl’s grip on his baseball bat. The way he breathed. The fact that with the right movement in the dark, with his height and weight, her small stature could give her the angle to pounce.

She cast a glance back at Felicity and grinned.

Well, maybe there was one idea she'd have to thank the girl for.

Marguerite stepped slowly toward Axyl in between the clatter of rubble. When she got close enough, she lunged, and snarled with the whites of her eyes wide and teeth bared.

“Boo.”

We take off into the darkness like two wolves caught on the scent of an easy mark. Or so we think.

It isn't long before Axyl's bat flings out into an open mineshaft, my hand reaching to pull him back by the flannel. He doesn't need it, pulling himself back quickly, his frustration rolling off of him in waves. We twist and turn in the dark, two blind idiots spinning around as he tells me to lead. Me leading? That's a bad idea, right?

I grunt in response because haven't we learned anything from the past three days? I sure as shit shouldn't be leading anything, let alone Axyl to his death. A muttered curse, heat building under my collar and my fingers ache to reach out to Axyl's wrist once more, just to feel his pulse. Just to know that we're in it together. That we're still in this together. 

Like the blind idiots we are, we somehow make it back to the group and Marguerite is nearly done bashing my good looks and credibility - "The one that looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in a month even though we’ve only been here two days. District partner. Don’t trust him.” I mean, she ain't wrong. But she isn't right either. My name tastes like a tragedy, a war cry, a call to arms in her mouth and I bite back a bark.

I spit at her feet as she gets in Axyl's face, stepping forward to put my body between hers and his. I pluck words from deep within me, pulling gristle and bone from each sharp consonant and every vowel wrapped tightly by muscle. I polish them, infuse them with my soul, and watch as they burst to life. "If you fuckin' touch him, I swear to god I'll - "

I nearly howl at her again, the awhoo stuck in my craw, but the anger rises like bile instead.

The threat dies on my lips, my teeth and tongue writing checks that my hands and heart know that I can't cash. Another boy - one from before who's face flashes like a dream - saves me from myself as he challenges Harvard.

"Watch out, Axyl, this one looks like she might start drooling at your feet in a moment."

I spin around him, eyes flashing between him and the other two girls, a war dance in my chest, even as the walls close all around us.

It's clear we've all got history. Unfinished business and grudges that threaten us more than any danger of falling rocks and stones.

m a r g u e r i t e

Something's got a hold of me lately
No, I don't know myself anymore
Feels like the walls are all closin' in
And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa

Filler! Thought I could post before work.

Maggie grins at having caused Axyl to have jumped back.

Rolls her eyes but knows it's not smart to start something outnumbered.

"Which way's the exit then?" (rumbling and more cave in).