the breeze beneath our feet; the starlight waiting above | ∞

The collection of memories is counted once more of the lives that have been lost, their lives that have been lost due to my unforgiving fingertips. A plush lion sits comfortably at the top of my bag, reminding me of just how innocently young Dusty truly was. Beneath the toy, three pens stick out in various colors to forever haunt me with the life I had just stolen the day prior. Upon my my middle finger, above the hand bruised by herself, also lingers the ring I had taken from Nell’s depleting existence. Hanging from my neck rests tokens captured from two others, one by pure accident and the other true purpose, to remember further lives that I had erased. All of these memorabilia are tokens in themselves, coating me with the bittersweet reminder of how I’m still here.

With satisfaction of numerous counts that all of the artifacts haven’t been misplaced, eyes finally pierce from the bag that I’ve cursed with securing these items I care so deeply for now. And my vision falters upon a television that I’m unsure has always been there, or appeared within my concentration on my lifeless stuff. Either way it flickers on as if aware that my attention has shifted to it, while too many decades of dust seems to have broken it beyond repair as the few days in here has done to myself. A constantly contorting image flashes before me, until it’s solely static consuming the screen and the sounds all about.

Eeriness drips into my spine from the presence of that technology. And with the coldness deepening into my bones from my feet up as well, I peal from the spot I’ve been stuck in for who knows how long now - within a random room I claimed in attempt to escape just momentarily from the unescapable. The door creeks open with slight rejection I can easily press against, to discover a thin layer of snow blanketing the hallway I must have left only hours ago. A mist is dancing around the sleek coat of white, souls seeming to weave across the roof; leaving me in wonder if I have missed my death and am now entering my own personal hell of haunt.

Perhaps I hadn’t slaughtered Nell, maybe the reverse had occurred and eased me into this new nightmare without my knowledge. The fog directs me to where it sees for me to go, with a soft force that I can’t deny - yet seem to accept. It feels unnatural, another tact to add onto why this can’t be real, while a numb liveliness seems to ensure of my continuing existence within the realm I’ve been in since birth. My fingers brush against the locket and ring dangling upon my neck through two different chains, and it ensures me that hell hasn’t welcomed me yet. A breath curls past my lips in a fog that joins the others, and I carry on to where I know I must go.

The start of this all greets me into the room where it all began. From across the room I stare at the bottomless glass cage that held me in the opening of this cruel game. Lights plummet from every different direction, almost blinding in a way that leaves my path unknowing. And through one glistening stream of light, I discover myself where my eyes were just starring off at - in front of the hole that brought me into this cruel place. Instinctively I clamp upon the buttons of my jetpack, taking a note from Nell’s persistent use of her’s, to prevent myself from returning to where I came from before permitted. And with my feet securely floating above the depths of nowhere, I gaze across to where I just once was - to where my final opponent waits to become another one of my ghosts to haunt me.

She’s petite, with brown hair and brown eyes to glisten with her youth. There’s an assumption that she shares a District with the Jacob boy who managed to skim from my death count. The Jacob boy who was alive just yesterday if I’m not mistaken. Making my assumption imply that she brought death upon her own District partner. The innocence that radiates from her features makes it hard to believe, while the strength that seems to pulse from her entire being doesn’t have me doubting it to be so. She must be around the same age as Dusty was, though she appears much further from childhood than Dusty herself was.

“Guess this is it, huh?” I question her from across the room, a hushed shout that still sprinkles through the distance - while I make my way through it as well. “I’m Red. I’ve killed Kit, and Dusty, and Orion, and Eos, and Nell to. I only tell you this because I don’t think any name deserves to be forgotten.” Words of truth that I must face curls from my tongue. Another beam of light I cross though to close the distance, while I end up somewhere entirely else… closer to last person in my way of returning home. “I don’t want to remember anyone else’s names.” Guilt contorts my tone, while somehow I still manage to speak with strength. “But I have too many people waiting for me back home.” A gulp struggles to swallow down my throat, as I flick the light of my sword back on. “So what’s your name?” And I swing automatically before an answer can be given.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}

The glowing weapon carves across the enemy with the induction of a mere scratch, just as it meekly achieved in the start of yesterday’s battle, and at the start of the battle the day before that. Fear ripples through my guilty conscious again with an acceptance that my strength has finally forsaken me against murdering. A red hue spreads across the cloth that I had cut to in the process of slicing her, her hand instantly covering the wound with intelligence guiding her to not take a mere mark lightly. And I wonder if this is truly the start of my weakness and the end of my being, or if it’s purely a repeat of what’s happened before. And I wonder which one I’d prefer.

What this Stranger before me prefers holds no question. A smidgen of rage seemed to sparkle from her knuckles at my laundry list of kills, and if my assumptions carry on to be true I’m curious to which name tugged at her. But with the hostility that appears within her tone, it must be true. “You won’t have to remember it.” A promise dances from her tongue, leaving me questioning if it’s from a lack of desire to have her name remembered or a believe that it won’t be her dying today. And with the raft that curses down my back from her blade, her anger must be true.

On and on the lights continue to beam in a confusion of bright blindness. At one moment she was before me, and the next pain relishes down my spine while she’s not in front of me. A grunt deeply howls from my core in attempt to absorb back the pain. Before weakness coated both me and my Opponent in the beginning. Before streaming lights didn’t mock my believe in knowing where I am. Maybe this is different from before. But either way a laughter cackles from the depths of my chest, uncaring if this is a repeat or something else entirely.

A permanent strike of lightning feels to be agonizing at the cross of my spine, down the ribs of my back, and down even further. My jaw tightens with the gruesome pain, while somehow I manage to laugh still. “And here I thought I was the one making too many assumptions.” Sarcasm rolls across my tongue with my sudden uncaring for the predicament. Far worse has happened before, and far worse will happen still. With a swift shift from my unmoving stance, I turn to face her. A drip of chuckles still draining from my lips.

“But you’re half right. Maybe I won’t have to remember it.” Acceptance curls for her satisfaction, enjoyment playing in my eyes at this surely new person before me. She’s quick like Kit, while has the strength to back it. She’s young like Dusty, while much more of a spitfire. She’s intelligent like Orion, while determination certainly empowers her more so. She’s radiating ability like Eos did, while still alive as Eos isn’t. She’s clever like Nell, while willpower seems to agree with her more. But her name I still don’t know, and her name I might still have to take with me. “What if I want to though?” A creek shifts my head to the side as wonder spews from my voice.

Fingers flex around the handle of my sword, prepared - ready. “I sure as hell don’t know who’s making it out of this damn place. Do you think you do?” Questions with genuine curiosity, before I raise my sword and strike once more.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}

Blood bubbles upon her cheek, swindling me back to just yesterday where that red goo was swimming down the likes of Nell’s face. But that gentle slice was draped across her forehead, while this one delicately lingers upon this Stranger’s cheek. Her name imprinted upon the depths of my memory in permanent ink, while this person refutes to grace me with her’s with such power as though her life depended on it. Yesterday’s battle was far different, just as they all were, and just as they’re all the same. Scenarios alter, as the spilling of blood across the floors never does.

The moment slows to a near halt, while the dance of the streaming lights never lowers from it’s hums - only we do. As if pressed by a mere button that controls time, slow motion sounds to graze us. Slow and steady I watch as her ribs rise and fall with her retrieval of air. And for a split second my fingers don’t clench upon the handle of my sword in an urgency to strike. My mind doesn’t scream for me to devour the last obstacle in my path to salvation. A pause influences me as well as hot air steams from both of us alike. And then her voice fires like a bell declaring an end to the break.

“I know who I want it to be.” Words flutter from her with such confidence, while her preference doesn’t ring with her statement. Surely it’s herself that she seeks for the survival, though no further assumptions breach into my mind. There’s no certainty to what anyone truly wants, nor even what I desire. “If you want my name, you’re going to have to say please.” One crave does spark from her tone however, manners. Instinctively a single, brief, chuckle brims to the tip of my tongue - slightly thrown off by her sudden request.

The lightness glistens upon her once more as she ventures from the shadows, to the streaming lights about, and her own dark light of a sword carves across my exterior. Just slightly did I try to avoid it, the scarce budge still allowing it to lick across my skin. But it’s not as painful, not as much as a quick death as I presumed this little one would gift. Eyes stare into her own, a flinch not contorting me as I return to the Capitol monster I have now become. When it comes to the family I must reunite with to break them from the terror of a cycle we’ve endured for generations, a monster I will become.

A gentle grin reveals across my cheeks, my stare still upon her with eyebrows raised with curiosity. “Please? Really? What, are we in kindergarten?” My eyes roll at my own stupidity, as I subtly shake my head back and forth. “Okay - maybe you still are. Well lesson of the day, it is good manners to say place and thank you. It’s also good manners to give someone your name before slicing them in the back.” Sarcastic education twirls from my core, before my weapon bellows forward to inflict the lesson into memory.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}

An arm collapses to the ground its entirety, and for a split second the cable bridge surrounds me with the vision of Cedar colliding to the wires with his leg amputated from his existence. There’s a sense that my eyes should widen is disbelieve to my actions, yet they don’t. I sense the guilt that should be riddling at my core, yet the numbness won’t permit it. The grin is ripped from my lips of satisfaction, while remorse refutes to take its place in a painful frown. For another brief moment Prismarine takes the features of the youthful Stranger before me, but I know she’s only appearing to assure me of my strength - the strength needed to return to her.

“Okay.” Her voice trickles out in a hushed volume, forming more of a gasp than a word - numbness seeming to override her from the gruesome agony she should be enduring. “Okay. I’ll tell you.” And like that, acceptance for my request alters the stubbornness she was gripping before. With strict tunnel vision I watch as her throat tightens with a gulp that must be slithering down it. “I’m from District Eleven.” Words of truth begin to pull from her tongue in a manner I already presented at the start of this. Strength dictates her tune, with a rattle that reminds me far too painfully of Dusty’s internal wrestle between strength and pain.

Curiosity contorts my eyes in wonder of her sudden change of heart, while I simply listen in hopes that my surprise will be answered by the continuation of her words. “I killed Cyril Rinne and m-my district partner Jacob Fel.” Facts curl from her lips just as it did from me minutes ago. A grin of approval desires to fold across my cheeks, while with one quick glimpse at the arm now upon the floor prevents me of that. “I made and lost a friend named Dio.” More information then what was intended breaches from her tongue, as I simply listen with the absorption that’s simply basic respect for this situation.

“And I have to get home to my father.” Now purpose flutters from her, as she pursues forward with an almost awkward strive. “My name is Kassandra Nerys.” Power flutters from her in a way that solely reminds me of Eos. And the request is finally met in full, while I swallow the name that I must add to my laundry list in order to remain alive. “And you are in my way.” But the memory of a name is not all that’s needed for my survival. A desire to live radiates from her just as much as well, as she swings her dark light of a weapon my way with such grace and dedication.

In the initial moment I wonder if my mind’s playing a trick on me. The departure of my arm feels to be almost an allusion, a dirty trick from the guilt that I should be feeling. But as my sword bounces from my proximity, and the overwhelming agony begins to set in in the back of my mind - I realize it to be true. The pain is more gruesome than to be expected, while adrenaline shoves it to the depths of my subconscious. A sole instinct takes over, as I dodge for the weapon of light that’s seen me through this since day one. The streaming lights around us make it difficult. While the stare of my eyes upon my sword’s red glow makes it impossible to miss. And in a matter of seconds the protector of my life is brought back into my grasp.

The grip of its handle upon my left palm feels to be less awkward than I would have thought. It’s almost as though my existence has switched to accommodate the situation I’m now suffocating in. And with my back pressed against the platform now beneath me, lights beaming in every which way above me, I find myself simply grateful to still be alive. And after a brief intermission of gratitude, I return back to my feet in an actual jump into the last battle about. A sigh ruffles from my lungs in my discovery of my left side, an approval brewing that it’ll due.

“I get it.” A tone of empathy dances from my words. “I want to return home to. I’m sure most people do… did.” With gentle steps I begin closing the distance between us once again. “And if I make it back, I promise to not let your name be forgotten Kassandra. Nor will I let Cyril’s be, nor Dio’s. All I ask is that if you make it out of here, don’t let the names of the too many people I’ve killed be forgotten either.” But hopefully I’ll be doing the remembering, to Pris and Soul, and to Mycelium and my future nephew. I must do the remembering. And instinctively my weapon aims to strike in a strive to make that happen.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}

A mellow carve brews across her forehead, that red goo now bubbling to the new wound and creasing rivers down the entirety of her face. The slice across her cheek slightly brought me back to yesterday’s battle with Nell, while this one fully emerges me to the recent memory. An innocent victim brought by the Capitol to contort into a vicious monster we’re all becoming, who murdered the sole person in this place to capture my care. Strength bubbled from her with confusing, mismatching words that had me questioning the end to Cedar. But no matter her reasoning, she did seize his final breath - and had to suffer the consequences for it… we all do.

The blood falters Kassandra’s vision, as she stumbles back to crease distance between us and nearly collapses off the edge of the platform. There’s an instinct to reach out a hand for support, to prevent her fall as I attempted to do with Orion on the cable bridge. But the hand I would have acquired to do so is freshly occupied by the handle of my weapon - the other hand that used to wield it no longer in use. There’s an instinct, but only an instinct. Preventing an immediate death is discovered to not be as important as gripping the sword that’ll bring her to her demise slower. Balance graces her once again however, her mind suddenly distracted by the glow of her watch.

Eyebrows raise upon my own forehead that’s unscathed by this hell. As if a battle to the death wasn’t consuming us, she stares at her watch - a tinge of a grin relishing across her lips in response to whatever she’s looking at. “Remembering them won’t make them any less dead.” Rage returns to her out of nowhere, her eyes reuniting back with my own. “Remembering Nell won’t bring her back.” A lecture sprinkles from her tongue, my laundry lists of deaths said before clearly deciding to strike a nerve now from the depths of unknown reasons.

Well at least she had the decency to inform me that remembering doesn’t bring the dead back to life.

“You don’t get to remember me or Nell, or Dio or any of them!” Spite raises within her even more so, a slight rattle taking over her body. “Fuck your pity quest.” The darkness of her sword swings, and I can taste the death breaching upon the both of us. But solely another scratch crosses my skin, a sudden breath releasing from my lungs after an unknown hold of it. Death is close to the both of us, while it hasn’t claimed it’s victim just yet.

A ghost of an arm that was attached to me just a minute ago reaches to claim the weapon within my left palm. But it’s not there, and even despite the stretch of its invisible power streams lightning bolts of pain through every muscle of my being. Another sigh ruffles from my chest in attempt to absorb of the agony, before retrieving my mind back to her words. “And what gives you the right to tell me what to do?” I question with the pain weaving through my tone. “Remembering the dead won’t bring them back to life - while at least it keeps their names alive. Guess we just have to hope whoever makes it from this place will do exactly that.” And surely I will, as surely as my light of a sword plummets forward in hopes to assure of that.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}

The opposing cheek is scathed by the tip of my humming sword of light. Inch by inch, without meaning or purpose, my weapon seems to crave to cross her face - in a manner that would send my Sister into more of a heart attack than with my actual demise, if it were upon my own features. The face is the money maker, she would grin even years prior to our employment beginning. And she’d blossom with pride to see my money maker scarcely touched by this nightmare. At least it will be an open casket if I were to make it home in one of those.

“It’s not about remembering!” Anger continues to sprinkle from her, like a family member that’s enraged and dumbfounded by their relative’s different perspective - unable to comprehend and accept the difference. The rattling continues to overtake her, death coursing her in ways quite distant from how my own body’s seek to swallow it. “It’s about living.” Says the youth that’s hardly had enough years to understand what that truly is; says the girl who deserves to truly discover what living really is… says the one that’s truly in my way of returning home.

Her head shakes as if someone trying to remain awake, while her severity to do so is much worse. “Death is everywhere. He follows every step you take, but you can’t- you can’t focus on him. You have to look ahead.” She states as if attempting to currently ignore that very death who’s dangling above both of our heads. It almost appears as though salty droplets were now streaming down her face as well, while the rivers of red goo could not make that certain. Another gulp slithers down my throat, as my own head shakes back at her - for different reasons.

“You have to do-“ It sounds as though her words become lost to her, foreign to her existence that she’s too busy struggling to keep. Her eyes flutter closed for a split second, and I can hear Mycelium screaming at me to finish this - but I don’t, not yet. “something!” She screams and her dark light of a weapon plummets towards me to inflict the power of her meaning.

The reaper glistens within the darkness of her sword, the taste licking upon my lips far more than ever before. Instinctively my arm raises to protect my face, to at least ensure of that beautiful open casket. My body automatically twists to avoid the oncoming demise. And when another mere slice marks across my guarding arm, I’m left breathless. The end is near, while not quite here. My existence doesn’t collapse to the ground in defeat. My muscles don’t refute to work any longer. My chance still lingers.

Eyes pierce behind the shield of my last remaining arm, a breath pulling from my lungs to form a mist against the freezing temperature. With my stance straightening, I shake my head once more in rejection of her comments. “No. Pretending that death isn’t there isn’t the way.” My voice is horsed, struggling to get my message across while I still can. Memories flicker back to the first person to meet their end by my sword, and I get it. “You have to face the truth.” And hopefully despite all my terrible acts, I’ll still be able to do that. I have to still be able to do that. To make amends, to make sure they don’t die in vain. With one last glimpse of hope, the light of my sword aims ahead.

^{[ Thank You So Much Incredible DARS <3 ]}