𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 | Hunger Games

xʟᴠ

FIGHT OR FLIGHT.

The black oily water cascaded like a wave she'd never seen before. It was mesmerising—almost a siren waiting to pull them to their death. First shocked then ensnared in the way it moved, then captivated by the inky darkness it left in its wake and then... well, then death.

Aella had ran from that inky death one too many times. She refused to let it kill her and her loved ones again.

She truly felt as if time itself had slowed as she turned with wide eyes to Finnick as he stood beside her, immersed in the inky death that was tearing over the block like a tsunami. His face was purely blank. He was just as mesmerised as she had been the first time she'd seen it but she knew they needed to run. The second that tarry substance touched their skin they were doomed to a fate worse than death.

She knew what it was like to feel like you were suffocating while your entire body burnt from the inside out. All the while it ensnared you in metal coil and tortured you to the point where you begged—pleaded—for death as an escape before finally it dealt its killing blow and the metal coil turned into barbed wire and pierced every important artery, letting you bleed to death.

For once, she was going to outrun this with her loved ones still alive beside her.

She grabbed his hand in a vice grip, screamed his name in urgency, and dragged him with all her might. He snapped out of whatever trance he'd fallen into, his hand squeezing hers in some kind of final goodbye should they not make it but Aella refused to acknowledge it. No, there were hundreds of apartments surrounding them, all they had to do was outrun the fatal wave and make it to one of those doors.

Together the two of them ran for their lives in the opposite direction, the black oily waves snipping at their feet. They could hear the cascades of it sloshing against the archway, hear the slicing of the metal wire as it cut through anything it caught.

Aella refused to look back. She'd made that mistake far too many times. It always either slowed her down or distracted her when she saw someone had tripped and she sacrificed herself to save them. Not this time. Finnick was right beside her and that was all she needed. It was a kill or be killed world they were living in, it was time she realised that.

They sprinted across the grass, towards the back right corner. Aella had already seen the busted door hanging on its hinges. It seemed to be the only one open for them to escape into and get to high ground. They had to run faster to beat the wave closing in on them from the right but with every step their freedom—their safety—was getting closer and closer.

Finnick jumped first, his body clearing the step up with ease and Aella followed, a mere two steps behind him. For the split second her feet were off the ground she could feel it in her bones—relief was starting to seep in. The door was less than fifty feet away, they were close. So, so, close.

Her feet crashed on the ground harshly, knees straining under the pressure and weight and her left one twisted so violently she heard it pop. A mind-numbing pain washed over her and her stomach coiled as nausea roiled through her. She was falling to the ground before she could even fully comprehend what was going on. She landed on her back screaming but all she could hear was static in her ears, as if the pain was so intense it drowned out everything else. Her body curled inward instinctively and she cradled her knee, looking to see her kneecap facing a way it shouldn't be.

She knew she should've ignored it—dulled out the pain—and got up but she didn't. She allowed that distraction to consume her and to make matters so much worse she looked ahead of her to see where that wave of death was....to see how close it was to taking her captive again.