Life has taking a toll for the worst and at this point, even the thought of it picking up and readjusting is very unlikely. Everything had an airy feel and the silence picked up more than anything as I jumped past brush and embellishment. Now alone, with nothing more to do, it was a chance to really observe everything around where the bloodbath and killings had taken place. Each one looking more brutal than the next with dried blood being stamped into the ground as an ugly reminder of what happened only days ago, possibly hours. The cannons slowly crept forward, anxiously waiting for another depth so it could do it's job. Striving to do better each time as it felt louder, more echoed than the next.
~~~~
My skin was scruff and had been scratched raw by multiple claw marks and beasts. Without the salve that was burning as it crept deeper into the irritated skin, the chances of still being alive were getting slimmer as time went on. That was the thing I hated most. The endless hours where we were left to do nothing but wait to die.
There was no scheduled date this had to end, and the Gamemakers were definitely leaving that known each time a day passed. Real or not, the dome that kept us under lock-down gave no signal if it was really the true time. I'd learned to not trust that. One of the many reasons I'm awake half the day and night, asleep the next. Going in here, you wouldn't expect to realize just how mentally challenging it is. Yeah, physically it seems like quite the job, but once you get passed the actual killing part, it's usually smooth sailing.
That is, unless your being hunted down by blood thirsty men and can't get the damn panel to slide open that is currently stashing away all your goods.
"I swear to the gods, this is impossible." I muttered, jabbing the thing tighter without realizing it. The wood splintered underneath my weight bu the callouses on my fingers had grown to cover it like a glove, almost so deep I couldn't feel the steady stream of blood that had started pouring from a reopened gash along my palm.
"Is this really what it's come down to?"
I flip around, dagger already in hand with both feet hard against the floor. The face I'm about to see is not one expected. The person I'd seen at the Reaping was gone, even when he was lively in the nightmarish horrors he still had his glowing eyes and thick smile. Now Meyer stood with his hands in pockets and scanning the place like something was about to lash out and eat him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Squinting my eyes, he was wearing one of my shirts. It was burgundy, pale swirls plastering the arms and chest in a design I could never figure out what was suppose to be. The arm that was holding the dagger fell limp and two risen brows filled the open air.
"I didn't expect a hug and kiss but that was a little harsh, don't ya think?" His mouth fell into a grim line and he took hesitant steps closer. "I know the games change people but this, gods Keon. I barely recognized you!"
Yeah, the boy grasping my neck like it was his last breath in the glass shards was gone.
"Can't really help the fact they don't have proper housing. You should really complain about it after watching my guts be ripped out and my inwards spill across my chest."
A sudden pinch filled my face, the stinging pain deep enough to leave a nice sized welt along with tears in my eyes. I could never forget just how strong of an arm was on that guy. Memories of when we'd sneak off into the woods and spar fill my head as I right myself.
"Don't you ever say that Keon, I swear if you do I'll kill you myself." Without another word, Meyer slammed me into the wall and reached for my throat. He held tight enough that with any more pressure on my Adam's Apple I'd be choking for air. That was one thing he learned that I didn't; when to stop.
