down the rabbit hole {eva hope oneshot(s?)}

Falling through the rabbit hole.

It was a phrase I heard often in books, but I'm not sure where it originated from. It always seems to stand for going through a crazy experience at some point that makes your whole world turn upside down. I fell through a rabbit hole when Lily's eye was pierced out. I fell through a rabbit hole when Paige's neck was stabbed through with a spear. Now, I seem to have fallen into another rabbit hole.

I had entered the bloodbath.

I fought off the boy from district seven and the boy from district 12.

The boy from district seven ran.

I crushed the boy from district twelve's skull.

I did as I said I would. I led death's icy hand toward the soul of another, enveloping the soul in darkness and swiftly snatching his fire away like a bandit in the night.

I didn't even know his name.

I am no better than Circe Lyon and Orion Hammerfell. I am no better than Saxton Hale. I am no better than the multitude of tributes that came before me.

I am no better than Atlas Lumiere and Ronnie Cheyne with their uncaring career swagger. I am no better than Diorite Fray chained up in her castle of make-believe sorrows. I am no better than the tributes that surround me even now.

I am a monster.

As my majestic dragon-like creature pushed me off it's leafy back, I fell. Then I kept falling and falling and falling. I landed on my back on a cold surface, my face leaked with tears, but no, I can't cry out with the pain I am feeling. There is a stabbing pain through my jaw. I think it's broken.

I push myself to my feet, wincing as I nearly collapse. The adrenaline had prevented me from noticing the pain before now, but now it's rushing through my body.

The adrenaline had also prevented me from noticing something else.

Cricket put me in high heels.

It wasn't even just high heels. If it was just high heels and a different, more sensible attire, I might have been fine. But no. Cricket had to hand me her wardrobe.

I was dressed in a lilac blazer than was a bit too tight on me, outlining my curves. Over the blazer I wore a soft, silk robe. I feel something weird down below and I take a peek at my legs. Black lingerie down each side. I should have paid more attention when the stylist was throwing clothes at me. I would have protested to this mismatch of clothes if you could call them clothes.

On my arm I hold a rather ugly tote bag with a map emblazoned on it. For a second I think it may be a map to the arena.

Maybe I got lucky for once in my life.

But no, it is titled "The 68th Hunger Games."

I sigh, taking a look inside at the crayons I managed to stuff into the bag. I didn't even manage to get a weapon! I only managed to grab fistfuls of crayons as I crushed a boy's head then took his.

The reality of how much of a monster I am is still settling inside my mind, revealing itself in concealed tears and forgotten promises to myself that I wouldn't become one of them.

My head turns, looking this way and that I scan the walls, the stairs, the ceiling of where I am. I need to get out. It looks as though everything is shifting and changing. I begin to move as fast I can in my injured state.

As I move, up becomes down and down becomes up. Then left becomes up and down becomes right. Then right goes back to being back down and up goes to being slanted. I'm getting a headache in this maze constructed for me, no, for us.

I catch glimpses of other tributes wandering the deserted halls as well. I hide from them, waiting for them to leave before I continue on my way.

I want to scream, to call out for my cousin, Gentian. I saw him being barraged with attacks from tributes riding on their floating creatures. I want to find him. To make sure he is alright.

Before I can find him, I escape. I take a breath of the fresh air in where I entered. It smells sickly sweet and so I look around for what dangers are present in the large enclosure.

Roses.

Roses everywhere.

And not just any roses, because they seem to be dripping a dark red substance.

It's either paint or blood. It's probably the latter option.

I am outside the large winding passageways in the mansion, and from the outside I see shattered windows and hear noises of fighting coming from inside. Let them deal with themselves I suppose. I see some sort of game set up, with mallets and little metal things stuck into the ground. I'm not sure what it is. It's probably trapped along with the terrifying mutt shaped structures in the garden surrounding me.

I take a seat near one particularly prickly rose bush, sighing as I view the crayons in my bag.

Nothing to help me survive.

Nothing to protect me from the ever approaching dangers all around me.

I have nothing.