the one you feed; Katrina vs. Izzy Day 8

[charade]

The air is hissing like—like air that hisses.

Sue me, I ain’t a poet.

It’s been humid as shit since last night. I had to ditch most of my outfit. What was left of it anyway. Oh, the capitol censors don’t have to clutch their pearls or anything. I’m not indecent. Felt good to cut my pants into shorts though. All this goddam leg hair needed to breathe. I did too, after I saw the anthem last night.

First thing I thought;

Fuck, someone got to Fray before I did.

That was a surprise.

The next two weren’t. If there’s one thing district two is good at, it’s dying.

Thirty something years and all they’ve got to show for it are the boy who lived and a goth grandma.

Then Jack of course, and 12.

How about that, I thought. I’m the last career standing. This should be a breeze. What do we got eh?

The geek from five, Andal and the unchanged girl. Ain’t a vampire in sight.

That’s about where my train of thought ended because I saw something small scurry around the dirt and the beast came back. It wanted to hunt and I couldn’t stop it, I was just along for the ride. Hate it. The wolf is still me, but it ain’t. And that makes no goddamn sense. Neither did the dream I had last night where a wolf spirit entered my body and renewed me.

Neither does the scent in my nose.

I’ve been following it for some time. Instinct. The scent means food, as fucked up as that sounds. I’ve embraced it though. This is who I am now. Or maybe it’s who I’ve always been. I don’t give a shit if people hate me for it, I ain’t never apologized for being myself. Thanks for the advice Beck. All I had to do was be a monster.

And the beast knows where to go, even if I don’t. It led me back to the den, to the caves that smell like old bones and home. Between the urge to lick my wounds and the rumble in my stomach, I think the beast is waking up. It’s been weird as fuck. Like I’m aware of what I’m doing, but not quite. It’s on the edge of my vision. Telling me there is meat up ahead.

And there is.

I’ve been led to the one who didn’t change. Whose outside doesn’t match the inside. She’s a monster too; to get this far, she killed. Maybe she didn’t gnaw on an arm afterwards, but the point still stands.

We’re all evil, the capitol just brought it out for the country to see. I know she sees me too. I grin, my tongue lolling out the side of my mouth. She doesn’t know I can hear her heartbeat. I'm done fighting it. It wants out, I'll let it out. My free hand finds the cave wall, and I scrape it with my claws, advancing on her slowly, the noise echoing throughout the tunnel.

The change is going to be even faster this time.

It knows. It already had a taste of her the other day.

Now it-

Now I want the rest.

As I lunge, I let the beast take over, vocalizing two words before the world disappears in a haze of red.

“Run, Six.”

The chase of the hunt is what makes me feel alive.

[attacks Izzy; Sword]

e5RLkb2Knfsword
1110 -- Severed Left Foot at Ankle -- 9.0 damage +1 blades

sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

You've been standing still for days - it's the rest of the world that's been moving all around you, all washing together in a black-red rush that smells of rot and tastes like blood. All you have are these brief moments where you feel in control, gripping a blade, standing over a body, unflinching as a cannon booms over your head.

You may not have lycanthrope blood or vampyric dependencies, but you too have been transformed by this arena, turned foul into something far worse. Or maybe, you were like this the whole time, and you only needed to let go.

It feels like the walls are closing in now. Every turn you take is blocked, every attempt to turn to the lake you find a shifting in the sands - each time you return to the rickety house you find empty space where it once was. You are being toyed with, span around and made to dance for all of panem to laugh and clap at.

They want a show - and as you are led into the den of wolves, you start to realise that you might just be bait for the main event.

A deep, unsettling growl pierces the darkness. The great looming figure of a wolf creature prowls towards you, out from the darkness. You feel fear now, primal and consuming, but you try to swallow it whole, you eyes watering. This is Katrina, but not as you remember her. She has gotten larger in the passing days, her human features fast disappearing - the girl from Four is all but gone, and only the beast remains.

"Run, Six."

You run.

Through the tunnels and burrows of the wolf den, you find yourself scrambling over root and rock and dirt as the creature pursues you, it's pace and size freakish. Adrenaline ignites inside you, burning at your core and seeping from your wounds, but you are running, trying desperately to intake the stifled oxygen under the earth - but this is not your habitat. You're in the den of the wolf, and you are cornered.

You scream out at teeth sink into your leg, the huge snout of the girl chomping down over your calf, burying deep into your muscle.

Now.

Whilst Katrina's head is so close, you draw your glaive and aim for the neck.



[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
zAApTwgRlcglaive
[Deep Gash on Neck -- 10.0 damage]

glaive

[charade]

The wolf—we—I feel exhilarated.

The only thing holding me back was the anger over the loss of control. I was fighting against the wolf in my head instead of holding onto it. That must have been what the dream was about. The lake sending a misty wolf spirit to me.

Two becoming one and becoming stronger because of it. I feel better than I have in days. And would you look at that? I’m not in the backseat while the wolf drives anymore. We both have a paw on the gas pedal.

Six runs down deeper into the caverns and I follow, bounding, pouncing with a strength I didn’t know I had. I am Katrina Sykes. I earned the highest PTS. I tore my district partner to pieces. I did the same to an ally of convenience. I am everything the Capitol could have hoped for in a career.

I’m the big bad wolf and little red riding hood here doesn’t have a huntsman to cut her out of my stomach. I land on the wall, digging into it with four sets of claws and kick off into the air, playing the world’s deadliest game of leapfrog.

Can smell her. Can smell the bad blood in her stomach where the wolf—where I tried to disembowel her at the lake. I taste blood, tearing a bit of meat off and then I—the wolf rears back. Snarling, scrabbling at its neck. The prey bit back instead of cowering. The wolf began to circle, gauging where best to—

There she goes again, running deeper into the cavern. I’m gonna make it hurt. She shouldn’t have spit in my face. Got a taste. Gonna chew her tongue right out of her pretty little head. I’ll find her wherever she goes.

She’s in my house now.

The wolf threw its head back and I howl, the sound echoing everywhere. She wants to run? She wants to hide? So be it. I bound down the tunnel she took and

—the wolf sniffed the air, trundling down the path on all fours cautiously. There. A hint of dried blood. Not from the prey. 4, 5 moons old? The smell of pine and undergrowth. The wolf moved on. A left. Then a right. There. A hint of perspiration. Desperation? The wolf followed its nose before—I stand up, crawling across the ground.

I move silently. Ditched the shoes yesterday, the claws had shredded them beyond any usefulness. The beast and I are one, I remind myself. Not a wolf. Not a girl. Something in between. The best qualities of both. She’s below us.

The tunnel I took led to a rocky outcropping, the tunnel she took led to a path my tunnel overlooks. They never look up, do they? The wolf tilted its head to the side, debating the distance.

A drop of blood from its neck spattered on the prey below, and then another.

I grin, leaping as the wolf growls.

“Found you.”

[attacks Izzy; Sword]
__JqJfmF6wsword
1094 -- Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5 damage

sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

Taking a series of turns, you do your best to break the line of sight between the beast and yourself. Weaving and ducking under roots and vines, you slip into a side passage and drop down into another tunnel, frantically crawling on your hands and knees, loose dirt scattering in your eyes and mouth. You want to cough, to pant from exhaustion, but you hold it in, eyes watering, stinging. Not now. Not now.

You slide between a thick root and a sizable rock, sinking into the darkness silently as the sound of the wolf's paws scratching at the dirt and the loud sniffing of her snout are unnervingly not distant.

What follows next is a horrible silence, wherein you unsuccessfully attempt to calm down. Your breaths are hurried, your wound burns. You clasp a sweaty palm over your mouth and nose, trying desperately to muffle any noise.

Then, an ear splitting howl reverberates through the tunnels, and you find yourself shaking uncontrollably. The wolf is at the door, and she longs to eat the sun and bring about the end of your days.

The primidial black of the tunnels has you shrinking into your hiding place like the rat you are. The wolf has heightened senses, superior hearing, unbelivable smell. This is not a game you should be playing with this creature, not on it's home turf. You're going to lose.

"Found you."

"Fuck."

Teeth sink into flesh once more, but this time you are quicker to scramble away, the white knives in her mouth graze your hip as you slip from her grasp and beneath the underbelly.

You feel like there is some kind of countdown happening, a clock accellerating backwards towards zero, and when the digits stop, either you or the beast will lie dead in these tunnels. Shaking fingers grip around the pole of Anika's glaive, and you thrust it upwards towards the beast's chest.

This is an underdog story.



[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
_w4V3oY|vxglaive
[Stabbed in Foot -- 8.0 damage]

glaive

[charade]

So damn slippery. She—the prey twisted, sliding and got underneath the she-wolf. Suddenly aware of the danger, the wolf reflexively reared up. The blade pierced through the chest as it twisted back and it—

hurts goddammit. Any slower and that would have been something vital. A wound like that is going to slow me down though. The wolf has other ideas. Accepting it has made me better, but the impulses are very strong. I can think more but speaking is hard.

Monosyllabic. Yeah, I even know what that means. Street smarts don’t been I don’t hit the books every now and then. The geek from five learned that back in the training center.

A week ago, I would have found this hot. Would have quipped something perverted with a wink. Instead—The she-wolf roared in the prey’s face for daring to fight instead of running, slamming the ground on either side of its head, looking to crush its skull like a grape. Its blood spilled onto the creature beneath it and—

I’ve been wanting to carve out a heart for a few days now. Her mistake was getting this close. Fuck. She smells better than Elle or Jack did. There’s no hint of bat in her system. This—this is what the capitol made mutts for.

To hunt humans.

I don’t know why the change didn’t affect her, and at this point, I don’t care to ask. The problem with sliding under me is that I’m turned my four limbs into a cage, paws splayed out on either side of her. One set of claws resting on her arm. So it’s the ribcage I go for. I want to strip her ribs clean of meat and hold her heart out for her to see.

She’ll watch me take a bite out of it as her vision fades.

This ain’t a fairy tale.

In real life, the monsters win.

[attacks Izzy; Sword]
90V9gjQD0ksword
miss
[accuracy day 8]
sword
1120 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage

sword·sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

You lie there, panting, face an abstract impressionist's vision of horror as the blood of the beast runs down your face from above. You twist again, scrambling away as tooth and claw scratch at your flesh, trying to rip your muscle from your bones, longing to tear your limbs from their bones.

This time, after wriggling from the beast's grasp, you turn on your heel, pointing the glaive at the creature, retreating slowly as you hold the long pole between yourself and the wolf. If it wants to leap at you, it has to get around the huge bladed spike between it and yourself.

You know you can't reason with a monster like this, it's stupid to even try, but you know that beneath the surface a human exists, living in stasis.

Akira was the same, consumed by blood lust, always a fraction away from slipping into some primeval state. That's the gimmick. That's the twist that keeps people watching. You weren't monsters enough on your own, so they gave you a push, and waited to see what you would become.

Even you, who refused the transformation, who chose to cure themselves, are not immune to their experient. Being caged in here with monsters has turned you cold, pulled the survivor instict out of you and put it front and centre.

"Hey!" You shout, jabbing your glaive forward in warning as you continue to make steady steps backwards into the den.

"There's nothing left of you in there, is there? All but gone. Nothing but another stupid, predictable Mutt."

Attempting to anger the wolf may not be the smartest of ideas, but it may make her vulnerable, if only for a second - and a second is all you need.

"That's a damn shame, I'd really have enjoyed killing Katrina. Not much sport in putting down a sick animal."



[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
tFpbEvhuxmglaive
[Severed Left Leg at Hip -- 10 damage]

glaive

[charade]

I understand the words, even if the wolf doesn’t. She’s keeping the wolf—me—us at arm’s length with the scythe and my hands itch to unstrap the one I took off of Jack from my back, but I’ve trusted the sword this far. It’s a hard habit to break. I circle, looking for an opening, and in the back of my head, the wolf bays for her blood. I want it too.

I’ve always wanted this. There was no point to anything than being the best. The bar is high and failure means not going above and beyond. It’s why I volunteered for my joke of a sister. Why I beat the others away from the wealth. Why I slaughtered my district partner and planned to do the same to Silver and Andal. The wolf sniffed the air, gauging the distance between it and the prey.

The beast is a wolf. I am a career. We are a monster.

We’ve accepted this.

Pain explodes throughout our body and we howl in anger and rage. And I—the wolf—we have come too far to give up now. We thrash on the ground in pain. We have lost a part of ourselves. But three claws remain. Weapons remain in our grip, in our bag. From the moment we understood our weakness, we hated it. From the moment we were allowed to cut loose we understood us.

“We are not sick,” we growl. “We are free.”  We snarl.

“And you are meat.”


[attacks Izzy; Sword]

RqPjTZKBrFsword
1009 -- Severed Right Ear -- 8.0 damage

sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

Meat she says, dehumanising you as best as she can. You think that if things had turned out differently, she and you could have been strong allies. You both have an edge to you, your lack of humanity have led to to this point. Not that it matters, you're both here - if you allied you'd still be right where you are now.

In little more than a week a girl from Four has been taken from her home, turned into a monster, and sent to war. Maybe the wolf wins, maybe the last creature standing will be an unrecgnisable monster - and then what? Will Panem accept her as a champion, or turn in disgust at what the Capitol made her into?

You know the answer.

You have watched a boy from your own district, standing in a wasteland with a gun shaking in his palm pull the trigger on a girl from seven. A Career from two who already fought and died in a faux-quell be reaped a second time, and slaughter dozens to take a crown for himself and return home. A boy in a mechanical suit fire missiles and blow his own district partner into bloody chunks.

They have always celebrated monsters.

Katrina is just next in line.

"And what are you free from?" I snap, "What is it exactly that you're so glad to be rid of?"

You smile, your nose bleeding down over your busted lips and fractured teeth.

"Because I bet it's still in there. Somewhere."


[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
BYArMqQslCglaive
[Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damage]

glaive

[charade]

We have seen this before. Countless times. The one called Coach made us watch. There is always death and the railing against it. It never helps. There are those who give and those who take. Those who protect and those who kill. In the end they are all the same.

There are no heroes in the games. There are villains. And those with the luck to survive them. We know what we are. We are a killer. We have never pretended to be anything else.

We were born to do so. We were raised to do so.

We are what we were meant to be at long last.

“We are free from rules.” we say, crawling on all three to pick up the small bit of flesh we cut off of her and placing it in our mouth. It crunches. Cartilage is chewy. We know this. She is not the first we have tasted. “We are free from care.”

We are Katrina. We are the wolf. We are one. We are what has always been there, lurking beneath the surface. The animal behind every cutting word, every insult, every person we used for our own gain. She will be used too.

We prowl, snarling and circling. Alone, Katrina was too controlled. Alone, the wolf was too wild. Together we have balance. Together we will survive. Together, we are the apex predator.

“You are cute. Like Elle. Like Jack.” We point at our stomach with a claw. “You will be like them. In there. Some. Where.”


[attacks Izzy; Sword]

RQP8l86CFRsword
1180 -- Deep Gash on Right Thigh -- 8.0 damage

sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

Rules. Care. You suppose all she has known is training and preparation. The life of a Career isn't something you'd know about, all the way over on the streets of Six, but you can imagine how regimented it might have been for her. How strange, to have trained her entire life for something, only for her body to be used as a vehicle for some other creature.

Her training was all wasted. All those years, all she sacrificed. None of it mattered.

That's funny to you.

But you understand she's glad to be free of it. You can't deny that it's gone now, truly she is free, and whether that'll continue after she slaughters what's left of us, or if she'll find it in death's cold embrace, you're yet to find out.

She takes a chunk of your flesh and starts to chew on it. Your stomach swells, the taste of bile tickles the back of your tounge, and a flash of lightheadedness threatens to topple your balance.

The wolf snarls, rubbing her belly, dribbling names at you, toying with you. Her suggestion that you join them dissolving away in her stomach acid sounds far from appealing.

"Yeah?" You screw your face up, "No thanks."

You'll take your chances out here.



[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
E8QUEBW0yeglaive
[Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage]

glaive

[charade]

She did not like that thought, we think, clutching the ruin of our stomach. We growl. We chuckle. That was not an offer. It was a fact. She cannot refuse it. We know we have been weakened. We know that seven moons have pushed our body to its limits.

We are covered in scars and stitches. We have suffered many wounds. She wonders what is inside of us. We know she speaks of humanity. Of rational thought. Of Katrina. We are Katrina. But we are also so much more.

“We are free.” We repeat to her. “You are free too. Free to die.”

We understand it now. How much was meaningless. Mind games. Sarcasm. Strategy. From the very beginning all we needed to do was cut loose. Kill. Eat. Sleep. Anything else is not needed. The trappings of society.

Those things are useless. They have no meaning. They make people weak. We do not need them. We have never needed anyone. Not our sisters. Not our allies. We have always been the one to tear those around us down. We have never been good at building. There has never been any need to.

We are injured, close to death. But we still have enough strength for this.


[attacks Izzy; Sword]
Yb9PgAgJvPsword
1129 -- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage

sword

[rook]

izzy rodríguez

"We are free. You are free too. Free to die."

The voice is so beyond human now, you almost pity her. Katrina is gone. Only the beast is left. The we that she snarls is not mutual, the girl from Four has no say in this, not really. She's been consumed, much like the other Tributes inside the beast's belly.

You do not know if at this stage she longs for death. Your glaive is dripping with the red-black blood of the wolf, it runs thick down your wrist, glueing your sleeve to your forearm in a heavy red gel. To put her down now is a mercy, but mercy isn't something you're interested in. If you are to kill the beast, you're doing it for your own pleasure at this point.

The air blows cold through the tunnels. Dirt scatters loose from the roots and rubble above, the foul smells of blood and rot fermenting somewhere deep inside the den. It feels like you are in a great intestine, some great living thing, and you've had enough of it.

You want out.

Living like a rat has only gotten you so far. Here, in the arena, the only way forward is by cutting a path yourself, with steel and blade on flesh and bone. Yes, you may have become something darker than the creatures the capitol created, you may have abandoned your humanity to survive for this long, but you will not lament yourself for it.

You reject that you are a monster. You are a monster hunter.

"No thanks, Katrina. I choose life."



[izzy attacks katrina, glaive]
408lrU7_Whglaive
[Miss -- 0.0 damage]

[accuracy reroll]
glaive
[damage]

glaive·glaive

[charade]

The glaive pins us to the wall and we roar in pain, our guts on fire, unable to move. I—cough and it hurt—the wolf howls in agony. I—we--grip the glaive’s shaft and pull ourselves forward, screaming and yelling a final insult of primal rage as we inch our away down the shaft and closer, closer to the girl, the blood and drool flying from our mouth and covering her face.

And something breaks. Something internal. We—I feel my head pitch forward and I cough, inhaling for a breath I can’t take.

The wolf is quiet. Maybe it died first.

Fuck. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

I’m fading fast, but—

Fuck.

“You–b-better fuckin’ win six. If Andal’s candy ass or the geek from five t— I cough weakly. –take you out after you fuckin—got me. I—" I cough again.

Goddammit. My final words were supposed to be 12 years from now; something perverted after I died of heart failure, fuckin’ my way through my fans in each district in celebration. –I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you in hell if you don’t—w—win th—“

Ah fuck it, she knows what I’m trying to say. My bloody claws slip off of the scythe.

I forgot one thing in our—its—my bloodlust.

In real life the monsters win, true.

The ladder climbing business men and the mafia types in nine. The politicians and the jocks at the gym. The people unafraid to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Those are the monsters that win, I think as I slump over, unable to even hit the ground because of how I’m pinned.

But those that win  are the human monsters.

Dogs?

They get put down.

-FIN-