{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~

Rosetta
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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 18, 2012 22:05:32 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Jul 18, 2012 22:05:32 GMT -5

Ariadne
"]

It was the darkest moon she’d ever seen. Completely clothed in darkness, the outline of the new moon could scarcely be seen in the black sky. Even the stars were subdued. It was a black night, one even the toughest man would shrug away from in favor of a brightly lit room and a warming fire. Everyone was in bed, sleeping away the darkness, dreaming of a bright new day. No one was out on the streets of District Four.

Except for a dirt-streaked sixteen year old named Ariadne.

Wandering about the streets of random Districts was something of an art to her. She’d been doing it since she could walk, sliding down alleys, tip-toeing over cobblestone and slipping under fences. And ever since she could walk, she’d been glancing around anxiously on those visits, fingers itching. Looking for something to grab.

Inching under the fence was easy. It always had been. Ariadne was tiny, thin, able to suck in her stomach, scoot a few inches on her back and be on her way. When she was young, her first expeditions into the Districts had been frightening experiences. Her heart would race and her shoulders and neck would tense up from her head constantly whipping from side to side, eyes wide. And when her snatching hand found something, there would be a terrible jolt in her stomach. Now, grabbing something and stuffing it up her shirt was a second nature.

Ariadne had stolen enough in her life to not feel a thing.

Stomach growling, Ariadne turned a corner and drew her hood tighter around her head. Her eyes were darting to and fro. For the first time in her life, Ariadne was looking to steal food.

She’d been fatigued, worn down by the price she was paying for her sins. Her limbs were sore and her eyes were nearly crusted shut. Her mouth had permanently formed a deep frown and her shoulders drooped. In the green forest, she lay in the grass and watching the birds fly overhead with no interest of trying to catch one to eat. Her stomach was hollow, but she hardly felt the pain anymore. In fact, she welcomed the pain with open arms and held it close to her slowly beating, cold heart. Since leaving Greg a week ago, Ariadne found that she could hardly keep down even berries. She was eating just enough to survive and she hated herself for it. She would find the most tasteless berries, the blandest plants, forcing herself to feel his pain. To understand.

Ariadne kept quiet, head bent low, not even gracing the sky with whistles to match the singing of the birds. She could feel the guilt leeching all the breath out of her lungs, so that wasn’t terrible. Yet, the torture she forced upon herself never sunk beneath her skin, lying just on it, stinging her until tears formed in her eyes and she found herself on her knees, begging.

“It should’ve been me! It should’ve been me!”

Grass would be pulled up from her clawing hands, hot tears would spill down her face, her stomach would contract, trying to force out the little in her belly. “I’m so sorry,” she’d plead it out, pleading as if she were back in that terrible, gray room, pleading as if it would change anything, “I’m so sorry!” There was no escaping it. She hated herself and she felt it pressing down into her bones and she slugged down those streets, hated herself for succumbing to hunger, succumbing to her inability to stomach what she’d been eating for years.

Ariadne heard the eternal ringing in her ears, one of her punishments she thought, far more than the footsteps behind her. She stepped sideways into a smaller, side street, but that was when the words overcame her torture.

“Ariadne.”

[/b]

Ariadne’s blood turned to ice. She knew that voice.

“Where’s your little friend?”[/b]

She spun around, shivers spreading up and down her body despite the warm, summer air and gasped aloud. She knew that face and she knew that voice. She knew that terrible man. She could never forget him.

Cold, gray interrogation rooms. Sore, bound wrists and wide, watery eyes. Ragged pleading and blood. Blood everywhere. Warm, terrible blood. On her skin. In his mouth. His blood.

[/i]

Ariadne stumbled back, hot bile rising in her throat, chest heaving. “Get away from me,” she cried, holding her hands up as if to deflect this terrible man and his terrible doings. She could never forget him, never.

His biting voice and his cruel, twisted face had been imprinted in her memory, dancing through her dreams. He lingered. He never left. And now, he was standing right in front of her.

No, she could never and would never forget this man. The man who’d forced her to do unspeakable acts. The man who’d rendered Ariadne a mutilator, a sinner, a vile human being. The man who’d forced her to tear Greg apart in more ways than one and was still tearing her apart. The man who’d turned her into this terrible thing.

A monster.

Both of them were now.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Sept 1, 2012 0:04:17 GMT -5 by Rosetta

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 18, 2012 22:48:12 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jul 18, 2012 22:48:12 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

There was next to no moon over District Four, leaving the job of illuminating the Peacekeeper's path to the stars. Despite being off the clock, Clayburn still donned his uniform. Crisp, clean, white fabric. Not a single stain or stitch out of line. The Head Peacekeeper of District Four deserved the very best Panem had to offer, of course. In these dark streets you never know when there might be a citizen in need of saving.

Truth be told, it was nights like these that were Cassius' favorite. A night to examine the District for all it had to offer him. The man hadn't tasted blood since his time at the Detention Center with those two girls. The feisty one and her girlfriend. She wasn't quite so tough after the burns. He let out a low chuckle, the sound echoing off the empty streets of the District. The citizens had a curfew that they must abide by, less they'd like for Cassius to pay them a visit they'd never forget.

A certain handful knew exactly what quality time with the Peacekeeper meant. Unsuspecting girls in alleyways and criminals in jail. They all knew what Clayburn had done, what he was. What was it that girl had called him? The delicious memory came flooding back, filling his senses again with the scent of burned flesh.

"You monster," the girl hissed at him. "You despicable, heartless, wicked thing."

Throwing such words around didn't keep her friend from burning. They all think they can pull through and be strong but in the end they all end up screaming. That's why the government needs him. They send him people and he gives them the hallow shell of what was once a person. It's his special talent really, an appetite for blood and despair only breaking a spirit can satisfy.

The man was brought out of his memories and thoughts and back into the streets of Four. Footsteps, faint but there. A citizen out of bed? Not for long. The Peacekeeper followed the sound, weaving through the dark streets into a smaller one. That's when he recognized her. One thing about Cassius, he remembered every face, every name. That was the fun of it, recalling all the past crimes as well as the present ones. Now this one was one of his favorite.

"Ariadne," his voice was sing-songy and smug. Cassius knew which buttons to press to make people squirm, and this little worm had already been crushed. It took hardly any effort at all. "Where's your little friend?"

“Get away from me,” of course, they always think he'll actually do as they say. What pitiful attempt at authority do they have? He was the head peacekeeper of one of the populous districts in Panem. Cassius knew all about authority, he had it and this little girl- this criminal had none. She was pathetic and terribly skinny. She looked like death itself. Cassius normally doesn't get so see how his work affects people years later, and this was the perfect specimen! A girl he had tortured so long ago, here in his district in front of his own eyes. Oh, he'd enjoy this.

"Come now, Ariadne," her arms were held up like a pitiful shield in front of her. Cassius took one of her wrists in his hand, getting the chance to look at the girl straight in the eyes. They were hallow eyes of a person who had been through hell and back. They were beautiful. "Is that anyway to treat an old friend?"

Clayburn's free hand reached around, taking the girl by the waist. It was much tinier than the last time he had been able to hold it, but he wasn't concerned with the size. Just the chance to feel soft flesh again made him giddy as, well, a little girl. Cassius' fingers stretched out across her back, pulling the girl towards him.

"This should be a happy reunion," his voice was coated in the sweet venom of cruel happiness. The man had never felt so joyful. After months of desk work and long lonely nights, running into this special girl was exactly what he had been waiting for.

Rosetta
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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 19, 2012 0:30:47 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Jul 19, 2012 0:30:47 GMT -5

Ariadne

His touch burned. It burned her wrist, her waist and her back and in such close proximity to him, she felt her entire body go up in flames. She squirmed, but he was holding tightly to her tiny body and she found in her hunger and exhaustion, she hardly had any fight left in her. Just fire. He had called himself an old friend.

To her, it was an insult. A friend? Her friend had been Greg, but due to him, that friendship had been botched. A friend…she prayed she’d never have to see him again, doubted she’d ever see him again. Lightning never strikes in the same place twice. But, here he was, pulling her closer to him and she might’ve been back in that interrogation room, the cold of his body pressed up against hers, sending waves of nausea over her.

"This should be a happy reunion.”

He was taunting her, but Ariadne’s anger stopped at her throat, a hard ball, that only let through a tiny, ragged voice, “How did you find me? Were you following me?” She hated to imagine it. Hated to see it in her head. Her slim, careful body tip-toeing down the street and his larger body, lumbering after her. Well, not lumbering. He’d been smart enough to slid under her radar until she’d turned into the most susceptible place: a dark side street. No one was around. If she were to scream, it was highly unlikely someone would hear her. Her body was trembling under this heavy fact.

Ariadne was alone. It was simply terrifying. Pressing down so hard on her, her knees were buckling, but of course, the Peacekeepers arms held her up. If Greg were here, he’d save her. He’d kick this terrible man aside and pull Ariadne away and in the cool forest, amongst quivering leaves and scurrying animals, he’d hold her and they’d speak without words.

It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.

And suddenly, Ariadne was regretting ever leaving Greg. If she hadn’t left him behind in favor of allowing him to live his life in an Ariadne-less world, she would be safe. He would be saving her undeserving behind right now. Come to think of it, if Greg were here, she wouldn’t be in this mess. She wouldn’t be starving. They might be dining together, feasting on berries she could keep down.

But, had she stayed, Greg would’ve woken up every single day and stared down at the sleeping reminder of why he was an Avox. They would’ve gotten into more trouble and it would’ve been all her fault. Perhaps this was her punishment. Greg had been punished by this awful man beyond words and now it was her turn. Yet, that didn’t stop her from trembling where she stood, her stomach lurching terribly.

“What do you want with me?” she asked, still struggling, but again, her attempts were fruitless. She was trapped. “Let me go!” She could hear the child-like pleading in her voice, thin and frail in the air and with that, she knew all hope was lost. He would surely taunt her for this. She was sinking in a pool of black water. She was screwed. She was trapped.

A bird in a cage.

Her voice was her only weapon.

If only she could find it. It was trapped just as she was. Suddenly, she had no tongue to spare. She was Greg and she couldn’t fight. Not with her body, not with her voice. Not even with her crushed spirit. No one was to save her now.

"I can't do this. Don’t make me do this.”

[/blockquote]

She begged before. It hadn’t worked. And yet, while she faltered, Greg was so tall, so brave and Ariadne should be now, she knew she should be. Yet, Ariadne was weak. A weak bird who’d sunk to the bottom of the cage, wings matted, not strong enough to even spread. In the darkness, Ariadne shivered, chest heaving against his stronger one, teeth chattering and her moss-green eyes turned themselves towards the sky, but not even the moon was there to bear witness. Everything was black.

Black as his soul. Black as the acts Ariadne knew he had committed and black as the terrible acts he would likely commit upon her.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Jul 19, 2012 0:31:02 GMT -5 by Rosetta

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 19, 2012 1:17:16 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jul 19, 2012 1:17:16 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

The feeling of having Ariadne back in his grasp was too much for Cassius to explain in words. She squirmed by only for a moment. The girl was weak, he could tell that much. Filthy, starved half to death. The Peacekeeper was basically holding the poor girl; her body limp against his. For a brief moment it was almost as if she wanted to be in his arms. The soft thought startled the man but he didn't dismiss it as quickly as he should have. His arm tightened around her waist, holding the girl to him. Freeing her wrist, Cassius fingers caressed the girl's jaw, feeling just how smooth her flesh was.

How long had it been since he felt skin beneath his fingers when the person wasn't screaming in agony at him? Too long. Cassius Clayburn had been blessed in life with the finer things but the precious commodity of a caress escaped his grasp, until now that is. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone. Ariadne wiggled in his arms and his hand went to her waist to the join the other, holding her in place. Her struggles with pathetic, and Cassius almost pitied her. Almost.

“How did you find me? Were you following me?”

"No," his voice was gruff and his fingers itched to touch her face again. Fighting the urge only kicked up his rage and he was rougher than he had actually intended to be. "You merely fell into my path like a little gift."

"What do you want with me? Let me go!" Didn't she know he just wanted her? Just the feel of her in his arms made him feel warm again. However, this pitiful struggling was annoying, "Let me go!" "Go away!" They always yell at him, say he's a monster. Cassius Clayburn is not a monster! He is a human being! And every human being deserves to be treated like one, to be touched like one and not be screamed at.

Rage flushed the man's face, his arms forming a tight vice around the girl. Familiar words from the long past interrogation room he had shared with Ariadne came back, all his anger came full force to fuel the venom in his voice.

"Now, the real fun begins."

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 20, 2012 0:59:13 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Jul 20, 2012 0:59:13 GMT -5

Ariadne

Like a little gift…

Ariadne was reeling, sinking into a terrible claustrophobic box, nailed in, curled up in deafening silence, a cute little bow on top…delivered into this terrible man’s hands…like a little gift. He would rip open the box and find her there. Grin. Pull her out, pull her close, do what he’d like with her. A little gift. All his own. Not even Ariadne deserved this.

Suddenly, Ariadne was taking back hoping Greg were here. She’d hate to see his face. His fear, horrible, choking, tar-like fear and…his disappointment. She’d run into trouble again. Just what she did best. She was a stubborn fool. Running into trouble like it wasn’t her business…because it wasn’t…she ran into trouble and ran out, leaving someone else in punishment’s path. But, now, she had no shield. Nothing, but a thin sheet of air that Ariadne couldn’t collect into her lungs in between them. His grip was strong, stronger by the second as he pulled her closer by the waist.

She could still feel the warm shadow of his hand on her jaw.

Now, it seemed all that softness was gone as she was crushed against him, shuddering so terribly, she knew he could feel it. Her skin was crawling under his touch, so overcome with it. He was downright creepy. Downright terrible.

It was ironic. Ariadne had come across a fair amount of Peacekeepers in her life. She’d swoop into a District, steal something and have to avoid them. For that, she didn’t hate them. They were just doing their jobs, but this…this was just vile. He was taking advantage of his rights as Peacekeeper and he could so easily take advantage of her right now. He could hurt her. He could kill her. Ariadne was helpless and it churched her stomach unpleasantly as a cold sweat broke over her thin body.

She was helpless before this man who seemed to get angrier and rougher by the second, hands tensing around her waist as her hands trembled and pushed themselves against his broad chest, trying to push him away from her, but her efforts were still useless and now, he was growling in her face words she wished she could erase from her memory forever.

"Now, the real fun begins."

[/b]

There were days when Ariadne didn’t think about it. There were days were food didn’t clog her throat and water was sweet and clear and the grass was soft under her skin and the sun warm on her face. There were days like that. Full days. Days from the morning she woke up and the time she fell into a restless sleep. There were days like that, but they were a small fraction of all the days she spent alive and tortured.

Some days, she tried her best to forget and she'd sink down into the grass and whisper to the little creatures that scurried up to her and her heartbeat was calm and steady and she could lift her arms up off the ground to reach out towards the occasional rabbit and she could even smile, smile at the stars.

But, of course, the next day, a scalpel would enter her gut and the river would be his hot blood washing over her hands and she'd be screaming... screaming...

Now was one of those times. He'd forced a scalpel into her mouth and was twisting and she didn't dare to scream for fear her flailing tongue might come into the blade's path. This terrible man. Hateful man. Hatred was brimming inside of her, tightening her shoulders and narrowing her eyes. It was his fault, really. It was his fault primarily Greg couldn’t speak, though she’d been the one to commit the terrible act, she’d been the one who’d weakened, too selfish to stand up to him, too concerned about herself-now, perhaps, it was the time to change that.

“Let go of me,” she demanded again, pushing against his chest, “you’re evil. Let go of me. I hate you.” The words were pouring out of her mouth, quicker than she could stop them. These were the words she’d flung at herself night after night, stung her own skin with, but were now finding the rightful owner’s skin. “You’re cruel. After what you did to him…” She faltered, fingers spreading out across his chest, before pushing again. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

As soon as the last word hit the air, Ariadne felt the bars of the cage close in over her again, pressing down on her chest, cutting off her voice. Weak. Weak. Weak. That word might’ve meant that. She was begging him again. All of her strength had left her and she was crumbling again, hatred trickling away, too weak, weak, weak. Weak girl. Foolish girl.

Foolish, foolish girl.

And the foolish girl, mustering up her remaining strength, did all she could, her final act of resistance: she kneed this terrible man in the place men shouldn’t be kneed.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 20, 2012 21:19:58 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jul 20, 2012 21:19:58 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

He didn't know where to begin. His arms were stuck in the vice around the girl, as if that were the only function they were made for. The man felt as if his purpose in life was to hold this girl and nothing else. He enjoyed how she fit at his side, just like a puzzle. He could smell her a mixture of the outdoors and something that was uniquely hers.

"Let go of me," she peeped weakly, beating on his chest. She kept spouting other things like "evil" and "cruel." Cassius had been called every name in the book, he was immune to such things. However, he was not protected from Ariadne. He didn't want her to leave or yell at him. He wanted...her. He wanted her, all of her.

He could feel her shivering in his embrace and the man could only frown. It was not from the cold, but from him. She was shaking with fear and anger or whatever she was feeling. Ariadne tried pushing herself from his grip again, but to no avail.

"You shouldn't struggle, it-," his "soothing" words were cut short when the girl attacked him. It didn't take a lot of force on her part, but it made quite an effect. The familiar pain blinded him for a moment, stumbling back and freeing the girl from his embrace. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight again after collecting his wits. This girl, the one he wanted more than anything, attacked him- defied him.

Looking up he saw the girl in front of him, was she happy she had had hurt him? Was Ariadne glad to see him in pain? That's not how it worked, Cassius Clayburn is not hit or ignored. Little girls do not bring him to his knees. Anger bubbled in his stomach setting his teeth on edge.

"You stupid girl!" with one large step, Cassius brought himself just close enough to swing his hand out and strike her. All of his rage hurtling his palm forward to twist her head around. His fingers stung from the impact but it was nothing he could not handle. Nothing like what she did to him, or what she had done to her precious little Greg.

That was it. Greg, the avoxed boy. That's the reason she would not listen to him, and tried to leave him again. Cassius examined the girl again, admiring her gorgeous brown hair, her eyes- green like moss. She was a forest. So full of beauty, but also containing dead things, ghosts of her past. Clayburn figured he was one of them. She was just so beautiful and perfect and he wanted her. He wouldn't stop until he had her.

Overcome with this yearning, Cassius stepped forward again, grabbing the girl by her collar and smashing his lips into hers. His kiss was rough and desperate, eager to get all he could from her.

"One day you will learn to appreciate me," he said with ragged breaths between his generous amount of kisses. One day, she will love me.

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 20, 2012 23:43:37 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Jul 20, 2012 23:43:37 GMT -5

Ariadne

The pain was swift and left her reeling. One minute, she was relishing in causing him pain, grinning even, the next, stumbling back in sharp pain, stabbing needles all across her cheek. Crying out, Ariadne clutched her cheek, squeezing her eyes shut across hot tears. “You stupid girl!”

[/b] he’d shouted before hitting her, but Ariadne knew that wasn’t the last of it. She needed to get out of there now.

Before Ariadne had taken a step, a force grabbed and pulled her forward and to her ultimate horror, rough, hard lips came across hers and he was hissing in her face, his hot, sour breath sweeping across her skin, "One day you will learn to appreciate me,”[/b] and kissing, kissing and she was crying, shoulders shaking, hands against his chest, crying out in between kisses.

“No, no! Stop!” Her cheek was throbbing, her heart beating wildly and she pushed against him with all her might, all previous ailments forgot. What did hunger matter now? There were a lot more important things to worry about. Like how a disgusting man was kissing her and she cried and pushed and cried and tried and tried to get away.

When Ariadne was young, she fell out of a tree. The loud, groaning sound of the teetering branch was frightening, but not nearly as the fall itself. It was slow. The sky was miles above her, growing farther and farther away, fluffy white clouds on azure blue, partially obstructed by green and muddy-brown branches and she wondered, as she fell, if she’d ever see that blue sky again. It was in those times that began to appreciate the sky. Now, she turned her watery eyes towards the stars and wished on every single one of them for help. The impact was the worst. It took all the breath from her lungs and for a panicked moment, she struggled for it back, fearing her that life had gone out through her mouth. She gasped and pushed for it back, but it wouldn’t come and, tears in her eyes, heart beating wildly, she was forced to lie still and give in to it. It would come back, but for now, she had to lose the fight.

She had to lose the battle in order to win the war.

Suddenly, Ariadne was lying on the grass, next to the tree, staring up at the splintered wood where the branch had once been. She couldn’t breathe, invisible bars pressing down hard into her chest, but she lay still and gave in to it, waiting.

Perhaps Greg had once fallen out of a tree and lay on the grass, red eyes wide towards the iron-gray sky, feeling the same way, and perhaps he’d remembered that when he threw back his head and opened his mouth and gave Ariadne the signal that he’d given in and she might as well get it over with. He saw the fight lost, saw his hands fall away in front of him, useless and his knees give away and he was on the ground, desperately trying to catch his breath, but it was fruitless.

Ariadne felt the adrenaline previously pumping through her veins dying away into nothing and her hands were sliding down from his chest to lie useless at her sides and her body was not relaxing, no, but wilting and she was a worthless mass, a thin skin bag over bones and her teeth chattered and she tried to shake the tears from her eyes. In the darkness, Ariadne swallowed hard and pulled away from the Peacekeeper’s last kiss, not a submissive girl, but a girl who’d given in.

And in her final defense, the bird in the cage used her voice, “One day,” she hissed through grit teeth, staring right into the man’s eyes for there were animals that took eye contact as a challenge, throwing his words right back at him, throwing the words she meant, words that shook her body with hatred, that tightened her hands into fists that soon dropped away as she give in, “One day,” she whispered in a lethal voice, “I will kill you for what you did.”

It was a promise.[/color][/blockquote][/size]

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 21, 2012 0:29:28 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jul 21, 2012 0:29:28 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

The Peacekeeper could not remember the last time he had felt another person's lips on his. He had forgotten how exhilarating it felt, how sweet one could taste. Ariadne was a special one, alright. A little bird set free from the Detention Center now fluttering back to him. This wasn't chance, it was destiny. Cassius was meant to find her here, meant to hold her. It was fate.

As happy as the man was, her lips were stationary beneath his. Once she had given up her protests her body went still, just waiting for it to end. At least when she fought back it felt like he was kissing more than a brick wall. Reluctantly, Clayburn severed their lips pulling apart enough to look at her face. Such a sweet, broken, innocent face.

“One day, I will kill you for what you did." Not as innocent as she looked after all. Her voice was a scornful hiss that made Cassius' features twist into a scowl. He had tried! He could give this girl a wonderful life! She wouldn't be crawling through the streets at night, stealing food. Didn't she know that? Can't she tell what he felt for her?

What was the use? That's how is always ends up. They never know what he would do for them.

The girl had a laugh like bells, and dark hair curling around her head like a halo. Turning over her shoulder, she shot a look the Peacekeeper's way. The young man grinned back at her.

They never know. They always just scream at him, telling him how much of a monster he is. Don't they know he can't help himself? Clayburn lived a life of lonely leisure and no matter how hard he tried to fix the hole in his life, it never worked.

"No!" she screamed, the sound muffled by his hand clamped over her mouth. He wished she'd just stop screaming. It was repetitive and annoying. He felt her suck it air for another attempt at shouting for help.

"Shut up!" his hand pulled itself into a fist, bringing itself down onto the girl's temple. It was only supposed to be a single strike to keep her quiet but he couldn't stop himself. The man just hit her again and again and again...

"Get out of my District," his voice was gruff, trying to keep his hands at his sides, even if they were curled into fists, ready to strike out like all those years ago. "Get out before I turn you in."

He wanted to punch her. He wanted to beat her head in. He wanted to break her like he had in the interrogation room, covered in her precious friend's blood. His jaw was tight as he looked down at her. It'd be so easy just to take her throat into his hand and press down. She'd be dead before he could realize what he was doing.

"I could have helped you," he screamed at the body. He could hardly see her face anymore, even the stars were hiding from his wrath. Her dark hair was spread out on the ground around her head. His fingers combed through her hair, it was warm and sticky with blood. Why couldn't she stop talking? It would have all worked out. "I could have loved you."

Cassius believed in the old theory he had read in an old dusty book. The author made one thing perfectly clear: history repeats itself.

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{{Seven Devils}} ~Geebs~ Jul 22, 2012 1:17:16 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Jul 22, 2012 1:17:16 GMT -5

Ariadne

As quickly as the assault began, it ended. Ariadne, so limp, was released and for a moment, she struggled to regain her composure, weak knees still trembling. In the darkness, the man seemed to sway, his eyes suddenly glazed over and Ariadne stepped back nervously, bracing herself to be hit again. Her cheek was still stinging, but it wasn’t smacked again. In fact, the Peacekeeper was faltering, not truly seeing her it seemed…someplace else…

"Get out of my District. Get out before I turn you in."

[/b]

Ariadne felt as though a lead weight had been released from her stomach. He was letting her go even if his voice shook with anger and his hands were clenched into tight fists, forcing Ariadne to take another safe step back. He wasn’t going to touch her anymore and her heart was soaring. She was free, he was throwing her out of the interrogation room, the door clanging to a close behind her and that was the last she saw of Greg’s unconscious form, but selfish Ariadne was free and selfish Ariadne was safe and selfish Ariadne was laughing.

Right in the Peacekeeper’s face.

He’d let her go again. Weak. Pathetic. She was weak? No. And she shook her head, cocking a slender hip to the side, triumph in her voice when she whispered, “You can’t do a thing to me. Go ahead, try to turn me in. Try your best to break me. You can’t do it. I’m better than you.”

Free, out of his sweaty, gripping hands, Ariadne was tall and strong and Ariadne who had been beating herself down for weeks now, realized that she had been fighting the wrong enemy. The warrior took off her dented helmet and saw clearly, staring into that darkness, that crushing alley and at the man who’d caused all this pain, stabbing scalpels in his hands, stabbing scalpels in her gut that she reached for now, sliding out, welcoming the resounding agony and soaking in the sudden, sharp freedom. And she held these scalpels up now, the power in her hand, adrenaline in her veins, pumping and Ariadne was light.

For weeks, she lay in the grass, curled up around her wounds, crying, moaning, begging the pain to cease, but it just came back, waves, to and fro, each one bigger than the last, tsunamis that crashed over her, dragged her into their swishing, crushing clutches until she couldn’t breathe and her lungs were filled with water and she was choking, knowing she deserved it.

[/i]

But, for the first time since it was blood on her hands, Ariadne fought those waves back. She picked up the pieces of the puzzle and put them all back together. When she was younger, she was told she had fire inside of her and now, for the first time in a while, she felt it, warming up her insides, sparks on her tongue, sparks in her eyes that leered at the man before her. So small before Ariadne.

Her hatred was brewing in that fire and her hands curled into fists and her voice felt strong, the ball in her throat subsiding, burning up. This man couldn’t do a thing to her that wouldn’t stop her from getting back on her feet. He’d forced her to beat down Greg, but she walked away and she saved Greg and she fell to the grass, but only to dig her heels into it and rise. And now, she was going to beat down him.

There were moss-eyed girls in this world, she knew. They walked tall, a sense of pride of their step and they were foolish. They spoke to boys they’d just met and pulled them into their worlds and they ran into trouble, ran headlong into it and one of these days, they wouldn’t bounce back, but find themselves caught in a cage. And it was for those moss-eyed girls that Ariadne knew she had to remove at least one cage from this world.

Ariadne took another careful step away from the Peacekeeper, not trusting him enough to turn her back. Her stomach didn’t churn at the thought of it, of him jumping her when she had her back turned, but her hands did curl into tight fists at the idea. “One day,” she told him, shaking her head at him, eyes never leaving his, “I’ll make good on that promise. I can promise you that. She swallowed hard, feeling herself faltering as she choked on her own blood-soaked tongue and she forced out, her voice thick with salty, unshed tears, “One day, you’re going to pay for what you did to him. For what you did to me.”

When she was several steps away from him, Ariadne turned partially, head still twisted in his direction and she wiped the drying tears from her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself. One of these days, she knew she would return to District Four, creeping out into the night, like some kind of dark, avenging angel. Or so she saw herself.

One day, all her debts would be paid. [/color][/size][/blockquote]

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!