The Bloodbath

This has been nothing but stressful.

That was an understatement though. You could feel your heart racing as the bloodshed had continued throughout the arena. There is nothing great about what is going on, and maybe you wished that anything could be different. There is a part of you that wishes you could be home, or in the mines, or anywhere else at this point. Because then there would be a chance that this wasn’t real. That you weren’t watching other children be obliterated by hoards of animals and feasted on for nothing more than entertainment. 

You wondered if this is what they expected their so called Hunger Games to be about. Watching children, who did not want to be controlled attack their own desperation and fight. It was sad to think about, but this was their answer to rebellion no matter how much you wanted it not to be. They always fought fire, with fire, which meant that there was no way for the flame to flicker out until there was only one side remaining. You had a feeling this would continue on until there might only have been one left, and none of it mattered. 

You did not let that stop you from holding your sword though, because that quiet strength, given to you by your father, had flared and rose in strength as you tried to keep a calm exterior. Of course you were freaking out, because you had been watching people die in front of your eyes, but your conscious had been a little bit clearer because their blood was not on your hands metaphorically. Of course, you were drenched in blood and ichor, and you didn’t even wince. 

You were a monster weren’t you? Not afraid to take a life even if it was an animals? What would your family even think of you? Were they watching? Hoping you would come home from all of this carnage the same soft boy you were when you walked into this hell? You doubted it. Your father probably hoped that you died here, because then you would be one less person that he would have to worry about.

You were never like him anyway, and that had always been very apparent.

Maybe you just needed to prove him wrong.

---

And your blade had missed, even after begging the mutt to let Seui Ngahn live. Maybe that was the sign that this was just not going to work. Not in your favor, or anyone’s for that matter. You watched as Drifter had rushed the same creature, and they landed a hit that could have shook it to its core. And you smiled for just a moment. ”Nice shot…” you offered a smile before realizing that this was just the beginning of whatever this really was. You wondered what would have been at the end of this long and winding road, but that didn’t matter did it? Because you were going to be slaughtered eventually. Even if you made it to the end of this and lived to tell the tale, eventually you would die, and that was just something you had to accept.

The reaper had always gotten what it was owed. 

And you knew that it would own your soul eventually, probably letting you fall into its arms and cradle you until you fall asleep and never wake up. The thought was sad enough to induce a tear from you, but you didn’t cry. No. You wouldn’t cry. Because at the end of the day, this was just how it had to be. You had to be sad so you could feel something. Anything. Emotion had always been hard for you to come by, and even now, as you watched people fall with your own two eyes. They watched as some bird had come out of nowhere and ripped off someones leg and then cut through Drifter like he was nothing more than a piece of paper.

And you were horrified. 

”Drifter?” you said for a moment before realizing that Mario had already been showing enough emotion for both of them. And then you looked to Paloma, both of you still standing and showing that you were not afraid of what was to come. You nodded to her and looked at Mario as he lifted his sword and in a flash, swung it at the snake. 

He screamed for both of you to hold the line, and you were not about to let another one of them die in front of you. Even if you didn’t really know if they were dead at all in the first place. Their bodies mangled told you that they were, but you could feel both of their spirits. Seui Ngahn and Drifters, waiting for someone to lift them from the ground and breath some sort of life back into them. 

You knew that it couldn’t be you that did that, but maybe, just maybe someone could. In the meantime, you would strike down anything in your way. ”For them…” you look at Mario, and then to Paloma, and then your eyes scan the arena to see that four more had fallen almost instantaneously. Your eyes gaze through and see a girl* leaning over the body of one of the fallen and you lock eyes with her even though she probably wasn’t even listening or looking at you. 

After all, she had been mourning.

”We fight!” you shout as you are so surprised with yourself. 

Maybe your skill to adapt has finally found your silent courage.

You wonder what will bloom forth.