red in tooth and claw // bitches day 5 leisure

[charade]

Whodathunk there were actual bedrooms in this joint? I'm sitting on the edge of a bed that has warm blankets, stitching myself up and hoping the cheek wound leaves a badass scar. I grin at the others.

I hold up all ten of my claws, then put all my fingers down but one.

“You been counting the cannons today? 11. That’s how many of us are left.” Three more until they start interviewing the top 8’s families and friends. Three more deaths until the gamemakers force us apart. It’s going to be every gal for herself pretty soon.

I’m not sure how to feel about it. It’s likely that tomorrow will be the last time we fight at each other’s sides. The pack will be done with. It’s weird but there’s a part of me that finds it preferable not to put them in the dirt.

I mean, I will if I have to. But I don’t think it’d be as fun as slaughtering enemies with them.

“Good shit out there today.” I mean it.” Jack and Andal and even the tag along. Who’d have thought we’d still be standing together this far in?

Ha. Well, I did. It's why I decided to roll with Jack. She's a real one. Andal took some getting used to, but he's no slouch. The wolf blood fits him well. Nice having Silver around too, even if all she does is mope.

I stare at a ceiling instead of a night sky for once. Laying on my back, hand under my head, my supplies being used as a pillow. It was misty. But peaceful. That’s the problem with trying to fall asleep. If you don’t do it fast enough, all sorts of thoughts start creeping into your head. Mainly I think about what I’m going to do when this is all over.

I’m sure my sisters are watching with bated breath, hell, Irene might even be betting on me. Julie’s probably had one too many shots and this time, I’m not there to sober her dumb ass up. Grandad’s watching for sure. Mom and dad too. 

Coach would tell me to focus.

Anthem said Fawkes bit it. So did ice cream boy.

Three other careers left. Of them, Fray is the most dangerous. Ace and Silver aren’t bad, but district 2 is just a rung below on the ladder. That’s just facts. The guy from five is out there somewhere, as is the brainy girl. That thought gives me pause. I have to wonder if she’s a wolf or a bat. I drum my gold-capped claws on my blade and decide it doesn’t matter anyway. Six is running around as a normal fuckin’ tribute of course. Still don’t know what that’s about.

Jack and Andal are right here. So’s Silver.

That leaves Chi-Chi, who might just have more wits about her than I was giving her credit for and—huh. The girl from twelve. Not a bad lineup. More like bowling pins being set up for me to knock down. I mean, fuck. I wish I could get ‘em all. No ones ever killed half the competition in a games before.

I’ll settle for beating the record. Victor from 8 a while back got six kills. So that’s what I have to aim for. Dunno if its still possible, what with there being so few tributes left, but a gal’s got her pride to consider.

My dreams are restless again. In them, I tear Elle apart with my teeth and devour her alive while she’s screaming, every last bite, licking my plate clean. There are more dreams like that. Except I'm eating Andal's kidneys. Silver's heart. Jack's pretty face. I wake up with a start, not realizing I’d dozed off.

They say dreams show your hearts desire. Do I want to eat them? That’s seems like a bit much, even for me. I’m not going to do that. I think.

Not yet, anyway.

-Katrina heals and eat, drink etc. maint-

[napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

The blood is thick on his claws when he pulls them back to his side. It’s ruby-red, and scented like the lunches his Ma used to make him for school—peanut butter and jelly, seared beef, even a hint of toasted bread there. Froth pours through his fangs.

He is so, so hungry.

But Andal looks up in a wild attempt to divert his focus, hones his senses on anything else, anything but the rips in the skin of the girl in front of him, and finds himself face to face with another creature: slouched, its enormous mass sliced from shadow. It’s standing upright. No, it’s slouched, but tall enough that it looks like it’s standing. Its hands are marred, claws tinged scarlet, and its fingers have way too many joints; they bend, unbend, and bend.

He looks at its eyes. Beyond its snout, two bright discs of yellow bore back into his own.

Recognition flickers then, like a flash of lightning that illuminates the darkness within him for a split second.

That’s me.

Ragged, white-mouthed, and far past and beyond the edges of who he once was, Andal stood staring at his own cruel reflection in a mirror.

The cold terror pulls him out of his bloodlust. His ears fold in despair; his height shrinks back to original.

Ma said everyone has a chance at penance, but for once, he’d like to disagree. No holy water would cleanse him of what he’s become; no prayer could free him of the urges within him. Oil and water can’t mix, good and evil never mingles, but maybe he’s always been both. He has always been selfish in his kindness, adamant in his goodness, clutching to his own honor and integrity like a drowning man to driftwood, but now the dark waters inch towards his throat, submerge them in their icy currents, and-

Takes him under.

The blood and the guilt does not go away. There is no taking them back, no transformation that would steal them away. A new moon always seem to be coming these days, a new hunger always at a corner. Hungry, terrible, and more horrifying than he’s ever dreamt to be, he rears back, head up, opening his chest to the sky, arms wide, and-

Howls with his whole chest, his whole being, the sound drowning out everything else in the library, escaping from within it. The howl splits, harmonizing with itself. It’s like there’s more than one voice.

Let the others hear.

Let them feel the chill down their spine.

He consigns to his fate. A part of him, the one that’s always been morbidly curious about the world, steps forward.