graves and the infinite arm // { day 5 | d12, dusty, jacob }

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The pull of breaths forming into words halts once more, just as the violence continues in an ongoing epidemic with few pauses between the bloodshed of the battle. A quick execution, of whom must be sacrificed for the Capitol to be pleased, is rejected in the moment it’s required most. Death seems to be licking upon her exterior, while somehow it doesn’t crumble her to the unforgiving floor where a canon will quickly follow. Instead two canons fire elsewhere, in a sinister celebration of the successful sacrifices echoing from other areas. But the tiny one refuses to join, in a manner that guilts me further for seeking her demise - and my buzzing sword decides to simply grace her with another slow cut to her destruction.

At least Cedar has registered and accepted the idea of not aiming his weapon towards the glowing red of my own. Rather another bullet slices brutally across Jacob’s cheek, leaving him screaming about bolting him in the eye instead - as though proper aim was manageable, and such a death blow is preferred by him. And in return one of his own laser blasts carves across Cedar’s chest, as if the darkness has approved of the seek for revenge. Should such transfer my own sword towards Cedar’s newest, returning, harmer?

Silence controls the little one who was just blurting a million words a minute. It almost appears as though she was contemplating the meaning of life itself. And then suddenly her gun’s brought back up, aiming in the darkness at what could very well be nothing to her. But for me, I absorb the direction she’s targeting towards, and who rests on the other side of it. Swiftly my lips ajar to retract my encouragement for her to always continue fighting, but it’s not quick enough. Another blast intrudes into Cedar’s being. Now there’s no question on who craves for another grace of my sword.

There’s no doubt what will occur once a canon booms within our close proximity. Again time will stand still, followed by the conclusion of yet another battle. And unfortunately the closest to achieving that goal, is the one who should be furthest from such. “You are a fighter, little one.” A sorrowful grin gently glides across my lips. “You really are.” But unfortunately that’s not enough to overcome this awful Game.

The fact that she’s practically as tiny as my baby cousin back home. The memory of her bright red hair, radiating against the greenish grey it currently has, reminding me of Mycelium’s locks from her age. The knowledge that she is a fighter who could have made it to the very end. Sadly none of it is enough to alter the goal that’s controlling me on autopilot. That baby cousin is waiting for me to return home. My twin is needing me to return home. Her powerful ability to make it home if I let her, would keep me from returning to my own. And if I don’t, Cedar has to - meaning there’s no chance that she can. Another apology tempts at my tongue, while silence quiets me just as it has with the others. And also like the others, the light of my weapon bulges to bite once more.

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