A {dead} Man Walking | Kraygon Standalone

Five days. Five long horrible days of watching Esme travel through the games hasn't been close to easy for Kraygon. Tears filled his eyes as he stood in front of the screen in the square every hour of every day surrounded by those holding onto a small hope she would return home. His hope shattered like a mirror crashing onto the ground the moment her leg was severed from her body, yet somehow his tiny cousin managed to kill the career. She kept fighting, and eventually she struck him down like she had done before. Two careers killed by the innocent fourteen year old girl who never deserved the fate she received. Nine remained alive, and she was one of them. Kraygon was proud of her for making it so far. Most believed she would die much sooner, but here she was floating through the water towards the mandatory feast. It was wrong of the Capitol to make something like this, but she couldn't hold it past them because nothing mattered.

His heart raced beneath his chest as she shouted at nothing. Telling the world around her she wasn't a horrible person. You aren't horrible, Esme. You're only doing what you have to do. You're staying alive. Never once did his eyes leave the screen as the other tributes gathered around. People around him shouting cheering her on because she was all the district had left. Hope was needed, but moments later fighting broke out as people grabbed bags hanging in the distance. "Esme! Move! MOVE!" Kraygon shouted at the top of his lungs as he watched one of the tributes who couldn't be much older than her lunging at her with a spear held high. "MOVE!" His voice shook as he fell to his knees begging, pleading, but there was nothing. Only the spear slamming deep into her eye as everyone around her ran away except one. "Esme!" He shouted again as he watched her crash into the blood tainted water. Flames danced around her. "Get up! Please get up!"

I hate you. Tears streamed down his face as his heart dropped deep into his stomach. Vomit spewed from his lips covering those innocent souls standing around him. I hate you. His own voice echoed through his head bouncing the words through his skull over and over again. He turned towards the screen long enough to watch the giant of a man from Eleven carrying her away from everyone standing around, but he wasn't moving down one of the tunnels. He was moving towards the endless pit in front of him after threatening the president. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. "Kraygon..." People gathered around him trying to comfort him as her body went soaring deep into the chasm only seconds after her cannon sounded. "Esme!" He shouted again as he moved into a standing position.

The world spun around him as spots danced before his eyes. His blood boiled through his veins. Flames danced before his eyes as he ran pushing the people around him out of the way. "FUCK THE FUCKING CAPITOL! I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT THE HELL YOU FUCKING DO! GO TO HELL EVERY FUCKING ONE OF YOU! YOU STUPID SONS OF BITCHES! GO DIE!" Hands wrapped his arms fighting to hold him back, but momentum, anger, and adrenaline pushed him forward. His friends gathered around him begging for him to return to the reality surrounding him, but there was nothing. Soon he was climbing onto the stage knocking things out of the way, throwing glass bowls onto the ground shattering them into pieces like his heart. He leaned forward picking up any projectile object he could use throwing them at the camera shattering the lenses out of them. The stands holding the cameras and lights came crashing down in front of him.

His hands yanked at the cloth on his jacket shredding pieces away wrapping rocks in them before lighting the fabric on fire with the small lighter inside his pocket before tossing them at the justice center shattering the tiny windows out sending off the message. He doesn't care what they do to him because they just took her away from the world forever. She was gone. Her cannon sounded, and his cannon went off with her's. His friends soon joined in with him realizing what the Capitol done was wrong. He wrapped more rocks into the fabric before lighting it on fire. Flames started dancing through rooms of the justice center. Smoke rose steadily through the windows. An evil grin spread wide across his face little by little. Nobody would get away with letting his cousin die. Her death would never be forgotten as long as he lived, and many who lived after him.

Turning away from the justice center, Kraygon looked at the giant screen standing before him. It needed to die like his cousin. A bunch of hands pressed against the screen shoving with every ounce of strength they could muster. Fire surging through his veins he pushed as hard as he could, and the giant tv was falling, falling like Esme fell through the pits of the Chasm until it crashed into the ground shattering the screen sending shards of broken glass flying in every direction showering across the square coating those around him. Some dressed in Capitol attire, a white shirt, black pants, a face mask, a gun, a peacekeeper moved towards him with the gun raised aiming at him. Kraygon grabbed his last piece of fabric, wrapped a rock in it before lighting it on fire. "FUCK YOU!" The flaming fabric left his hand soaring at the peacekeeper. "GO TO FUCKING HELL!"

His heart cried inside his chest breaking through the barriers holding him together. Loud, violent sobs erupted from his lips as he ran away from the square. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. She's gone. Never coming back, and the last thing he ever said to her was 'I hate you.' I don't hate you, Esme. I'm sorry. I'm so so so sorry, but I can't say it now. You're gone. You're gone. Please come back. Please. I don't hate you. I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry. Just please come back. He collapsed at the edge of the square. Leaving him broken, shattered beyond repair. Not even the best medics could fix the hole now gaping inside his chest. Esme died, and Kraygon Truus had died with her.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.

Please.