The Bloodbath

Isn’t this a little too familiar?
Too close for comfort?
Wasn’t I dead?

60

The vibrant sun blinded me once again as my feet stood shakily on the platform. The platform began to rise, and my hopes began to fall. I am a career, or so I call myself. The cornucopia in front of me is beautiful, but beauty has a price. I look around to my right, and then to my left, seeing some strangely familiar faces. Some unfamiliar ones are there too, and I realize this is definitely the strangest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Does that mean Wilson came back to life too? Considering I killed more mutts than people, it’d only make sense if they came back too.

50

Aenor; my body almost sprang into action at the thought of her. I remembered what would happen if I did though, and restrained myself, though I did fidget around quite a bit. My eyes frantically searched for her, darting about trying to find her perfect face. There are plenty of faces I recognize from the 58th games, so where is Aenor? I had scanned the group of tributes more than once, and I didn’t plan on quitting until I found her. I wasn’t ready to accept the fact she wasn’t there, because she was. She had to be. Didn’t she?

40

One face that was familiar was not welcomed though, and that was Gage. There was unfinished business between the two of us; correction, unfinished business with all of my former alliance. The point of an alliance is sticking together, not leaving as soon as one member got into a jam. So really, I don’t think they understood the point. Well, they could have fun with their new “alliance.” I’m interested to see how long they will stick together. How fast they’ll drop one member when they get into a sticky situation. I feel bad for the fools they tricked this time.

30

Time seems to go slower when we’re waiting. Whether it’s for good or bad it doesn’t matter, time slows down. It may be to build anticipation, anxiety, or excitement, but no matter what, your emotions grow as the time slows. You may not realize the fact that your spur of the moment attitude might be a danger to those around you. The outburst of your excitement, or whatever it may be, scaring those around you more than you realize. So that’s why fidgeting on that little plate offered little to no comfort; I wanted to run. I wanted to get away from this, and it was sad because we were only thirty seconds in. Thirty seconds in and I wanted to flee, maybe I understood why my parents favored my brothers more.

20

Why couldn’t they be in my position? My brothers I mean, they’d be able to handle the pressure much better than I’m able to, even being in this for the second time. You would think it’d be easier, having already been through this before, but I’ll tell you right now, it’s not. It’s worse, much worse. It’s like living one horrible nightmare that’s just never-ending. You think you’ve escaped it with death, you think it’s over, but it comes back, and it happens to come back even worse than the first time. Knowing that you will probably have to face death again is a scary thought, no matter how you look at it. You can’t really escape it, and that’s even more terrifying.

10

My time is coming to a close, and I’m ready to receive it with open arms.

9

Actually, no I’m not.

8

I want to run, away from here, away from everyone.

7

I want to run back to where I was before.

6

To the waves, to the beach, maybe even to my brothers.

5

I can’t believe I just said that.

4

Wow, the threat of death changes people.

3

This is strange.

2

This is abnormal.

1

This is déjà vu.

Was this real? The last thing Semper remembered was the thickening grayness, his hand in Ree’s as she led him away from this world. After that it was all a blur—hard to tell if he’d been anywhere—but it hadn’t been bad. It had been like a blanket wrapped around his body, and a whole ocean of stars circling round his body. There wasn’t an up or a down, or even who or a what. Just a place that felt safe, safer than when he’d been in the arena and caught up in the awful business of killing other tributes. The past had melted away to nothing, as though he couldn’t quite remember those rolling hills or the way his little sisters laughed at the way the goats bah-bahed—there wasn’t anything for him to remember at all.

There was a chill first, and then a prickle, then a flash of light. A chill came over his body, running down his back and to the tips of his toes. He struggled to open his eyes—now just one of them working, his blindness evident and a powerful reminder of his mortality. They’d reassembled him, as it were, his hand now back and evident—his stomach lurching at the thought of what he’d done to survive in the arena. He was dressed up and readied—taken away from his past and thrust into his future—back to the haunting, powerful world of the capitol. He was to go in again, because they had enjoyed his performance so much the first time. In fact, he remembered some of the others—Kale for one—though the faces of the rest of them were unfamiliar. He hadn’t been alive for their games, so he had little to fear of them, as he’d not watched the vengeance of the Morenos or the craziness of Luyu.

He was smart enough to know which ones would come to his aid, though. This time he’d have allies, and push himself to the end. He wouldn’t be left alone—at least, not until he decided. Part of him worried how hard he’d been stung by the death of Ree—his failure in taking care of her had cut deep, and had made him long for the end to come. This time he would keep the others at arm’s length, so as to not be affected by when they inevitably fell. Better to feel nothing at all than what he’d felt for Ree—why would he want to be friends with any of these kids, anyway? They were all dead, and would be dead again. It was just proof the capitol could do whatever they wanted—even cheat death, if they felt like it.

Stepping into the tube, he thought of all the things that calmed him. Horses running down the pass. Sheep getting chased by the old hound dog. Ree’s lips curling into a smile. He took a deep breath as the machinery whirred and buzzed, the countdown beginning its drum. He could feel the heat from above, and in another instant was ambushed by the smell of the arena. Candy? Semper blinked his one good eye to see just what was going on. The hues of the world took shape—beautiful pink, purple, white—was any of this real? Perhaps he hadn’t really reached heaven after all, maybe this was just another challenge until he reached the end. But how long had he been dead for, if he weren’t already gone?

He looked around to his allies as the clock ticked down. Learna, golden haired and to his right. Dominic, watching and waiting. Aria, ready with a vengeance. As for Semper? He got himself into position, but couldn’t help shaking some. His tall frame slouched over as he stared at the weapons in front of him, thinking of his own bloodbath. Bodies everywhere. Screaming and howling. The blood, some of it still dried on his own body—or was he just imagining things? No, he had to focus. After all, you only live once until the cannon sounds. His eye stared forward at the clock. Three. Two. One.

They all could have been at peace now, if they’d wanted.

Gong.

It was when your eyes finally closed, that you died, Libertine. Oh, you were so young, so surrounded by fellowship, but yet so very lonely at your demise. The last thing that you could remember briefly from before your death was nothing. Oh, the memories are there, Libertine, but those were but indifferent emotions that had found themselves harbored before your lonely death and after the very person you truly were. You experienced it all, and knew the distinction between two and one, all while never giving a thought to your circumstances.

Slumber has eluded you. The President will not allow you and twenty-three unfortunate souls to rest so soon. Even in death, the Capital reigns with authority over the you. Sleep is to be deprived from you until you win. There is no doubt that the terrible things will be done to you if you are to stray from their set course. Suicides and early deaths are out of the question. You rise, and you rise until the arena comes into view through your very green eyes.


It's counting, Libertine. Best to prepare.


...60


You felt pain before the nothingness, but strangely, you weren't fearful of you situation. Perhaps it had been the resounding of the very words of Demeter's that had kept you standing, perhaps it was. Perhaps like her, you realized, “This is no time to act like a coward.” And then you stood, bloody, battered, but yet still standing firm. You were brave. Fearless, even. It was through the moment of the promising death that you defined yourself, and through the very actions that had represented unspoken words belonging to you, you fought. You fought so hard and fought so bravely. It was admirable. Your actions were definable, but yet you have no chose of words to describe it to yourself. That must have been it, Libertine. You were inspired by Demeter.

Demeter, The Career, The Leader, and The Willful. She was the sole reason for the aspiration shown toward an already hopeless cause. Your companions were worthy to stand with you at one point as well. They too were battered and bloody; a mere reflection of everything that was you but wearing another face. They fought with you, and they might have died with you, at one point, but instead, they left you, but not before they help deliver you death. The traitors they've become. All of them. Willful allies made into willful traitors. Trust had been broken from the three of them to the one of you. The only concepts you now hold for them were forgiveness and respect.


But nobody is perfect in their character, Learna. They're not angels, nor are they devils.


...45


You saw flashes of metal, puncturing through your delicate skin, sawing your bones to chips, as you – literally – lay witness to the constant shifting between the puncturing and recollection of the blades meant for you. You were helpless back then, weren't you, Libertine? No one can blame you what you did next. No one can blame you that you closed off the world once more, and this time forever, with the ceased opening of your eyes. No can blame you that you attempted to cross Charon's way. It was very human of you to. But, unlike some, you're a very different sort of one, a rather curious case, too. You have a unique ability to close off your mind to the tragedy so easily, something that the other tributes would envy, but yet, never able to come close to attaining, much less, fathom.

Null. Nil. A perfect void, an ever-so-foreboding emptiness that plagued the very dank corners of your mind. Each second that had passed was an eternity for you, each presiding over the promises of both nothingness and death – but what was the difference anyway? Could you possibly say that one or two could be the same, Libertine? No, they could only be felt the same, but yet could only be presided over the mere distinction from one of the other. Death was the stage of mourning, the stage of remembrance. It was through death that you could be seen as what you finally worked yourself up to. You can hear the boy, can't you? The voice of 9. The voice of the one telling you to say good night to your world.


Death is coming, Learna, and this is how you've chosen to live it up to that moment.


...30


You can almost recall each and every significant face and the very mannerisms that made up their characters. It's as clear as a cloudless sky, a cloudless sky pierced by the sun's raining light. The sight doesn't last long – blood ruins everything.

Do you remember each of the conspirators of your death, Libertine? You would do well to remember them, you may be meeting them soon, and you may be facing them yet once more. Even though you've fought with and against them, do you know them? Because, these people hardly know you aside from a face – what of Aria, or Ailis? What of them? Both were conspirators belonging to the mass responsible for your death, but yet, you ally yourself with Aria over Ailis. It seems better this way for you and her after all. Having a killer you know less of, than a killer you know more of. The less you know, the better to perform. Besides, Ailis has betrayed you once, and she may very well do it twice. You're capable of forgiving her, Libertine, but trust? Trust is not a choice you would pick. Trust is gained through trials shared, but it takes only but one simple second to shatter the very world you both share. You cannot allow that to happen, not twice. Don't allow yourself to fall prey to such careless fallacies, Libertine. Strive for the better with your alliance of four. Believe in Aria, The She-Wolf. Believe in Dominic, The Logical. Believe in Semper, The Survivor. But never weigh your trust on any of them. It is easier to kill without it.


The roar of opportunity is rising to greeting you once more, Learna. Can you hear it well?


...15


Rise, Libertine. Open the same eyes that had vowed to shut the world away forever. Go back on the very vow and strive for the better, Libertine. Rise to your calling, you've been given a second chance, have you? Use it. And use it well to attain the victory that you once couldn't.

Run.

Fight.

And reign victoriously.

When the gong finally sounds off,

and as you take off,

facing the carnage yet to be told,

you think to yourself,

“This is no time to act like a coward.”

[ooc: Learna Libertine has entered the Bloodbath.]