ＷＩＴＳ | ＭＡＲＶＥＬ ＨＵＮＧＥＲ ＧＡＭＥＳ ✅

ｓｅｖｅｎ

With each strand of hair that is being ripped from Rybbon's body, she can feel a tiny part of herself die on the inside. She thought she was internally dead a long time ago, until she discovered what the Capitol stylists called "waxing." They take wax, like the candles she used when the power cuts out in the apartment, melt it, place it onto her skin, let it dry, and rip it off. Rye didn't think it would be bad at first, as she found the warm wax being laid on top of her skin to be soothing. But when they pulled it off her, all she could do was let out an ungodly sound that ripped through her throat. And they did it again, and again, and again, until her body was rid of any and all unwanted hair.

As the stylists left to get more supplies for who knows what, Rye slowly dragged her fingers across the skin of her abdomen. She hissed silently, her skin burning with each touch it received. And as she felt her freshly waxed skin, she noticed how bumpy it had become, like she was standing out in frigid weather.

Her attention is forced elsewhere when she hears something roll into the room, the four stylists chattering so loudly Rye swore her ears began to bleed again. Capitol people and their high-pitched voices. It reminded Rye of when a gas pipe burst in the factory because all she could hear was this indescribable high pitch sound that actually popped her eardrum. Still, she watches as they roll in a large basin. It's similar to the one she used at home, but this one seems to be made of pure gold, it shining brightly beneath the artificial lighting. They place many types of unknown herbs and plants into it as servants fill it with burning hot water. It makes Rybbon move away in fear, seeing the steam come up from how hot the water is. She doesn't get far though as those same servants grab at her arms and legs, picking her up and placing her in the searing hot tub. She lets out a strangled cry, feeling like she's being boiled alive. Her sounds of distress are silenced when one of the stylists pushes her head beneath the water. She stays there for some time, fear coursing through her for a bit until her body became numb to the burning water. And soon she stopped fighting, letting her eyes shut as she allowed the last bit of air in her lungs to escape her, leaving past her lips in small bubbles.

She's pulled up as soon as she found comfort beneath the water, getting bombarded with thousand bristled brushes with strongly scented soap moving against her agitated skin. The heat that numbed her body also made her eyes become droopy for one reason or another. It could be one of the unknown herbs they placed into the basin, but Rye found herself too tired to react to them scrubbing her clean in every area of her body. Even when they went to her most private and sensitive places, all she could do was let out a little moan before her eyes shut on their own, the sound around her dulling to a quiet ring.

When Rybbon does awake once more, she finds herself laying on a table. It seems to be made completely of artificial lights, as they shine brightly into her eyes, forcing her to look straight up. It doesn't do much with the bright lights gazing down upon her as well, leading her to let out a groan.

"Why so bright?" she whines, shutting her eyes tightly. Bringing her hands up to shield her eyes, her muscles tighten to an impossible degree, as if she just carried thousands upon thousands of pounds. It makes her let out a pained moan, stretching her arms up above her head in hopes of stretching her muscles. It does little to help the cause. "This blows," she sighs. She places all of her weight on one side of her body before moving all of it to the other, wanting to lay on her side. However, she overcompensated, leading to her rolling straight off the brightly lit table, hitting the ground with a loud shriek and an audible thud. "Oh, why you-" she begins to curse, jumping up to her feet. Her hands instantly go to her abdomen, feeling as if she just got punched in the liver. "Why couldn't I have just gone and died?" she whines. "It would've been so much simplier but no~," she exclaims, drawing out the last word, "these Capitol son of a guns have to do all this stupid stuff!"