Strange Faces, Strange Places.. (Python) {DONE !}

[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

Dante was witnessing an unfortunate miracle. The girl’s pathetic noises ceased. Part of him was relieved to hear nothing but silence in the depths of the tranquil forest, but another part of him felt a sense of disappointment. With his axe clenched and his arm raised, his body anticipated the moment she defied him. He would count thirty seconds exactly. If her lips were not sealed by that time, his axe would be brought down. The blade would bury itself into her lovely skull and create spatters of vibrant crimson against the bland colors of the forest. It would stain Dante’s pale flesh and drench his sweatshirt. His dark gaze would wander down and watch the fascinating substance drip from the tip of his blade and the edges of his fingers. A giddy laugh would escape his throat as he yanked the axe out of her bleeding cranium.

But she had grown silent.

Dante sighed--a mixture of relief and disappointment--and lowered the deadly weapon. The girl was still crumpled upon the forest floor, resting there like a pitiful broken doll. He quirked an eyebrow and faintly wondered if she would bother to stand up. His eyes scanned his empty surroundings; tress, trees, and more trees. Nothing but damn trees in district 7. Dante couldn’t even find a squirrel. Then again, what foolish creature would stick around to watch a sadistic boy with an axe wish for the death of an innocent girl?

A strange thought suddenly came to mind. Here he was, standing the middle of the forest with a strange, mentally disturbed girl, yet the idea of leaving had not crossed his mind. Why on earth was he still here? Couldn’t he run away and leave the girl to her crazy episodes? No. He would not allow himself to leave. A perfect opportunity could potentially arise. How could he resist something so grand? So fortunate? Yet when he stared down at the girl, his axe-wielding arm did not move. He needed a proper reason to kill. Her screaming had posed as a temptation - but it was not enough. Not enough to justify such a beautiful, violent death. He needed something better.

Dante was in the midst of contemplation when he suddenly heard a small voice. The girl was speaking to him. That girl. What the hell was her name? Had she even mentioned it? Does it even matter? She was making accusations. Senseless accusations with no evidence to support. He was the cause of her distress? How? He had contemplated the subject before, but came to the conclusion that she was an overreacting crazy-woman. Emotionally disturbed. Worthy of the loony bin, maybe.

”I triggered this?” He repeated in disbelief. Now she began to mention something about killing. Taking advantage of her weakened state. Yes, it was true that he wanted to kill her, but he would never admit it. ”How the hell did I trigger this? I asked you a simple question and you just started to scream like a maniac.” His volume was elevated from frustration, but had not yet reached the extent of shouting. ”Oh, and for the record, I am not interesting in killing you. I don’t even know where you got that idea. You must be fucking paranoid or something.”

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[Cait]

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[/i] his fault we were in this whole suituation?[/color]

Of course it was his fault. All of it. If he hadn't come here today, none of this would have happened at all. And now this place would be forever tainted by the boy's presence, event after he had left.

Which made me question again - WHY THE HELL WAS HE STILL HERE?

He must be seriously fucked up in the head, I thought grimly to myself. If our positions were reversed, the last thing I would be doing is staying around to watch the fun. That was just plain mean. But still, there had to be some rational thinking behind his reasons for staying. Unless he's more in the deep end then I'd originally thought. But I don't think that was the case. Something was keeping him here, leaving him unable to leave. He was riveted to my episode, which made him seem even more maniacal in my mind. When I had calmed down, I noticed him sigh a little. As if he was disappointed that I had not kept on for longer. Well, pfft. He was the one that had told me to stop. His own fault. Or maybe he thought I would act as my stubborn self and not listen to a word he said. Then he could have killed me. But no. Now he starts rambling on about some "not killing me" shit. Please.

Then if he's not gonna kill me, WHY THE HELL IS HE STILL HERE?[/color] It just didnt make sense.

Yeah, he tries to tell me he doesn't want to kill me. But really, who is that fooling? Definitely not me. I can see the wild look in his eyes, the hint of a smile at his bloodthirst. What a lovely thought, especially for a 13 year old. I should be dead.[/color] So why was I still alive? None of it made any sense. It was too much for a 13 year old. Nobody my age should have to deal with half the things I've dealt with today. It's just... bizarre, really. There's no other way to describe it. All I’d wanted was another peaceful day in the woods, escaping the harsh reality of life. And to top it all off, I couldn't even leave my position on the ground yet. I was still way too disorientated and dizzy, and knew that if I tried to make a run for it I'd probably end up falling over my own feet before making any real ground. And then where would I be? Splattered across the tree trunks, always a reminder of my foolishness, but forever a part of the woods I loved so much.[/color]

Maybe dying wasn't such a bad thing.

The boy continued to ask questions at me, all a blur to my still recovering mind. I could make out the words, but could not understand the reasons or thinking behind his questions. He kept talking. Why can’t he just leave and let me be?[/color] Though nobody would be able to leave at this point in time. You had to stay, to hear the rest of the story. It’s like reading a book – you would never stop reading just before the big battle, you wouldn’t even think about putting the book down. He couldn’t help it. Even if he hated me, his curiosity was keeping him here. But the last thing I wanted was some lunatic messing inside my head. There’s not much you can do anymore, Cecilia. What harm is telling him going to do?[/color] Letting somebody else in on my life, my past, my feelings and my whole way of coping was just plain stupid. Unbearable even. Nobody could ever understand me.

But maybe he could… Either way, I wasn’t going to tell him everything. But I knew I had some gaps to fill in. I owed him part of the truth, at least.

Sighing, I admitted defeat, and from my position on the ground, I gave him some answers. “Okay, oh god, where to start? Well you wanted answers, I’ll give you some. Firstly, to answer your question, yes. You triggered this.. this… episode. Of course I probably over-reacted a little, but what you said about just coming here to climb trees….. did you ever think that maybe it meant so much more to me than just that? This is one of the only places I feel safe, I’ve ever felt safe my entire life. So when I see you crashing through the trees to my place, yeah, I got a little pissed. But you would have too. Anyway, we could have handled this whole situation in a completely different way, but we go about it being hostile to each other. Now, I don’t have a problem with that, because I hate you at the moment. But we are actually more alike than I first noticed. Don’t act surprised, we are. And for your information, that is the first time in forever I’ve reacted like that to anything. I thought I’d gotten over it.”[/color] Tiny sigh. “As for not killing me, well, we both know that’s a lie. You have serious problems, no offence. I don’t blame you for wanting to kill me, but please, there’s no need to lie about it. I don’t care.”[/color]

Of course I care. You’re moments away from killing me…
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[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

So, the girl decided to monologue. It sounded like meaningless chirping to his ears. Whine, complain, emotions, secret places, hostility, killing. What point was she trying to make? That she never ceased to be an annoying, babbling child? Dante really wanted to smack her, and that was the understatement of the century.

When she fell silent, Dante processed every word that had escaped her lips. There were people who would show sympathy for the girl, and people who would be strangely offended by her insults. Dante was neither. A person would be foolish to even consider using “Dante” and “sympathy” in the same sentence. As for feeling offended, he was far from it. The girl was so ridiculous he could not feel anything. He was completely indifferent and unable to respond at the moment. He remained silent and stared at the girl with knitted eyebrows as if studying her. Then,

he laughed.

He was infected by a fit of giggles. He turned his head and laughed into his shoulder as if trying to stifle the noise, but there was no hiding the eerie smile and the eyes that were squinted shut. He shook his head and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, driving the spasms away as he stared pleasantly at the sky above. ”Alright,” he breathed calmly, tilting his head forward once more to return the girl’s gaze. ”Sorry about that. It was hard not to laugh at all of the stupid things you just said.”

Now it was his turn to monologue. His speech would not induce boredom or sound like gibberish, however. He could actually make sense of the situation on his part. ”First of all, this is not your place. If anything it belongs to The Capitol, and they could chew you up and spit you out like my dog does with squirrels.” A disturbing simile, but it amused him. ”Second, you’re the one who started acting hostile in the first place. You jumped out of your tree and got in my face. You could’ve just stayed up there and kept your mouth shut.”

Pause.

“Third, we are not alike. You’re crazy and I’m normal.” A lie. Dante could never be considered “normal”, as much as he wished he could deny it. ”And for your information, insulting somebody then saying “no offense” is fucking stupid. That would be like me calling you a loony bitch, then saying “oh, no offense”. If I was a murderer then I would definitely kill you just for saying that. But I’m not and I won’t. Know why? Because I don’t have fucking problems.”

The cat was out of the bag. She had offended him after all; her insults burying themselves into the depths of his subconscious. ”Oh, and you’re also a liar. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be getting so emotional about all of this.”

The mask was off - discarded into the trash can as if invaluable. In place of the charismatic façade was Dante’s true nature: Cold, apathetic, uncaring, and rude. He did not have a speck of interest in the girl’s sentimental values or her hatred of him. He wouldn’t even mind if the girl dropped dead right now. It was better than dealing with her irksome attitude.

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[Cait]

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[/color]

Or maybe he’d like that…

I was still trying to wrap my head around the boy’s reasons for laughing when he began to speak. He looked at me squarely, and I held his gaze, not flinching at all. I had to show this boy I wasn’t afraid. AS he spoke, I could feel myself becoming calmer with each word. Strange, the things he was saying, how he thought what I said was stupid. It was my life story. How could he even say anything like that. It was as bad as the tree incident, though I refused to show anger at the boy’s remarks. It was easier than I thought. I’d been called, stupid, weird and strange before. And besides, I couldn’t help my past. I couldn’t help what was wrong with me, it was just a part of who I was, really. And too bad if he didn’t like my story. I knew I didn’t have to say anything, but the way he had been treating me, speaking to me.. it made me feel like I didn’t have a choice. And he knew, now, that there was more to me than meets the eye. Good.

As he spoke, I could only make sense of every couple of words. My subconscious seemed to somehow pick up every single line, hanging onto every last word, not wanting to miss anything. But me, right here, right now, wanted to be far away from here. I wanted to be roaming the trees just like any other normal day in the woods. To feel the earth between my toes, the soft bark of my favourite oak tree softly caressing my hands as I gracefully climbed the trunk of the tall tree. Sitting among the treetops, the wind gently kissing my face, green leaves rustling with the breeze, giving the place a mysterious, beautiful air. Just like me,[/color] I thought to myself, sounding somewhat vain, but I knew it was only the truth. Just like the woods I loved so much, I had that mysterious look about me, the one which made you want to find out more about me.

And I hated it. Why couldn’t people just leave me alone? People pissed me off, especially this person right here who just won’t shut up and leave me alone.

Of course, all this thinking happened rather quickly, and by the time I had finished my own little rant, the boy had fallen silent momentarily, a slight pause in his simple speaking manner. Even though I hadn’t been listening to him talking, I knew exactly what he had just said. No matter how hard you try to block out everything, there’s always that tiny part of you that picks up every last detail. So as I tried to make sense of what he had just said, I heard him faintly talking yet again. This time he was accusing me of lying. Lovely. It was almost funny how he thought he knew just what I was feeling, whether I was actually lying or not. Almost funny. The only satisfaction that I got from his speech was that I had now well and truly pissed him off, and where there had been a blank face of nothingness earlier was a cold, harsh and somewhat evil figure left behind. But I knew all along that he was like that, didn’t I?

It was obvious now that he had finished speaking, and whether or not he was waiting for me to speak again or to just leave was a mystery. So I took advantage of the silence to gather my thoughts, and try once again to decipher his words. Firstly, he was using this woods thing against me again. Trying to turn me against the forest, the only thing keeping me sane. Of course I knew that the woods belonged to the Capitol – I wasn’t an idiot. It just felt like my place, and after 10 years you can grow quite attached to somewhere. The next part of his speech was true – I had jumped out of the tree and came up to him. I didn’t have to, but I had. Why was that?[/color] ”Only because you had already seen me!” I blurted out stupidly, unsure of why I had even bothered to speak. I clasped a hand over my mouth and took the stunned silence to finish deciphering the boy’s thoughts. The comparison, ah yes. I knew he would have objected, but it was plain to see we were alike. I’m crazy, definitely, but if I’m crazy he’s way in the deep end. No question. As for the insult, I had meant to offend. I knew saying those two simple words – “no offense” – would be enough to push him right over the edge. There I was again, pushing people’s buttons, back up to my mischievous ways yet again. Something that age could not erase, a part of me not yet tainted by my demeanour. Thankfully.

I could see the boy beginning to open his mouth, but before he had the chance to speak I had began talking again. “Okay I get the point. Well to be honest, I’m not really sure what to say. It just seems like anything I say you want to shoot down in flames. So you know, I might just wait around for you to leave. Could be the best thing for both of us.” Casually, carelessly, I allowed myself to relax from the rigid position on the floor I had previously taken. I still felt dizzy and knew that I would have trouble standing up for some time yet, but until then I had to play it cool.

At least until I could make a run for it.[/ul][/color][/size]

[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

Shoot down in flames. That was a delightful image. Spitting fire at the obnoxious girl then standing by to listen to her screams of terror and agony. Burning, after all, was an extremely painful method of killing. Fire itself was a powerful weapon. He recalled a moment in his past when he was inflicted with such pain. His body was not covered in flames, nor did he suffer any serious damage. It was a mere prick of stinging pain, a signal he learned at a young age that warned him never to touch anything with enchanting, bright orange and yellow colors. He was six years old that winter, sitting idly in front of the fireplace with a mug of warm milk. He could feel the warmth radiating from the flames, but of course, he was banned from moving any closer. ”Don’t touch the fire, honey. You don’t want to burn yourself!” was his mother’s stern, but fair warning. Dante had calmly nodded in her direction, faintly wondering what sort of sensation a burn would generate. With his mother away in the kitchen fixing snacks and his father taking a cat nap in the bedroom, Dante was able to set his mug down and creep closer to the flames. Slowly and tentatively he slipped a hand into the fireplace. He took note of how the tips of the flames danced and desperately tried to lick at his flesh. The heat warned him of it’s deadly touch - but he didn’t listen.

If a slight touch could cause a yelp, a painful blister, and tears that attracted mother’s sympathy, what would a human torch cause? Dante imagined the girl coated in red hot flames, frantically running around screaming bloody murder as if the forest could somehow rescue her. The thought was pleasing, but he soon came to realize that burning somebody was not as fulfilling as cutting. Where was the blood? That sticky substance he was so fascinated by? The beautiful crimson that would coat him? No, a painter would never burn his canvas. He would create art with whatever sinister tool was available. Dante decided to stay in favor of his axe.

Snapping himself back into the harsh reality, Dante blinked and realized that the girl was speaking to him. He tuned in and expected her to snap into defensive mode, but no such response was heard. Instead, said that she would wait for him to leave.

Leave? The audacity!

He had come here seeking isolation and peace, and now this insolent girl, after so rudely interrupting him, was demanding him to leave? His dark gaze flickered to the glistening blade once more. He again considered using it.

”I don’t think so, princess,” He said, narrowing his eyes into a glare. He enjoyed mocking people. “As I said before, you don’t own this place. And you seem to be forgetting who is holding the weapon here.” He raised the axe as if emphasizing its presence. Reminding her that he was not playing games, even though he had lied about not wanting to kill her. He was only making himself appear more insane. But who cares? There were no witnesses. None. If she died, only he would watch.

”I’m not going anywhere.”

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[Cait]

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[/i]

How could he even make such a comparison? I tried to imagine myself as a princess, sitting in the Capitol with an unlimited supply of food and people to wait on me. Of course, fame, fortune, money would be wonderful, but what is the use of a princess anyway? Being locked up inside all day with nothing to do except plait your hair or paint your nails.[/color] What a boring life. I was sure if I lived in the Capitol I would die of boredom. At least in District 7 we actually had a purpose, and there was always plenty to do here. Still, the word princess made me go back in time, to when I was 6 or 7. And as much as I hated to dwell on the past, I knew I had to recap the story in my head. I’d heard that trigger word and the memory came flooding back in a rush, emerging from the depths of my troubled head.

It was one of those rare days when I had actually been working. I was with my dad, and we had been cutting down trees, much to my displeasure. We’d been at it for hours, and I was getting tired, so I decided to sit on one of the trunks that had been cut down by my father and I. It was very small; it couldn’t have weighed more than 8kg, and with my added weight it would have been about 30kgs. As I sat down, my father came over and easily lifted the tree trunk, swinging me around so the world looked like a blur. As he slowed down, I launched myself onto a nearby tree and climbed to the top like a little mouse, scurrying quickly. As I reached the top, I felt very dizzy and faint, and I must have been swaying around so much, my father described me as looking like a damsel in distress, which was basically the same thing as a princess. They sit back and wait for everyone to do everything for them. The complete opposite of me. I didn’t spend my time making myself look pretty, nor did I associate any of the words I use to describe stuck up people with myself. I wasn’t demanding like the boy had implied, but I simply wanted to be alone in the peace and comfort of the forest.

I’m finding out more about myself today than I ever have.

As I came back to reality, I tuned my ears in to listen to the boy. In my right ear all I could hear was a faint buzz, with the occasional word here and there, and I sighed again as I remembered the permanent injury there. As I focused, I heard him say he wasn’t leaving. And he’s trying to threaten me again?[/color] Hmm, no surprise, really. If I was the one with the weapon I’d be doing all I can to convince the boy that I was the one in charge, not him. Still, there was something about what he had said that peeved me off. Maybe just the fact that he wouldn’t leave because he wanted to annoy me. Or maybe it was that he’d called me a princess. The fact he was lying about not wanting to kill me again? Even though all these things annoyed me immensely, I knew the real reason behind my agitation. He kept playing on my weakness, saying the forest wasn’t my place. I sighed again, this time in exasperation. Of course I knew this place wasn’t mine, I’d just spent so much of my life here that it felt like home. That was something he could never understand.

Maybe I was wrong. We’re not alike after all.

Even though I tried to act uninterested and not offended, he knew my weakness now. He would just keep using it against me until I cracked again. So I had to stay strong, I had to ignore him for the time being. In an attempt to look unfazed, I shrugged my shoulders. “Fine, I can’t force you to leave. But if I could leave right now, I would.”[/color] And surprisingly, that was the truth. She would leave this boy to his strange ways to give him time to calm down. That’s just the thing I would do. But no, this boy decides to do the complete opposite. He’s pissing me off on purpose. “Anyway, you’ve had your fun. You’ve cut down some trees, so why won’t you just leave? Unless you still need to let your anger out, and if that’s the case, there’s other parts of the forest to explore.” The tone in my voice wasn’t condescending or challenging, it was honest. I meant everything I said. I was trying to reach a solution for the both of us. He had come here seeking escape, refuge, just like I had, and if he wanted to stay he’d have to put up with me until I could move again. ”It would be best for both of us if you left.”[/b]

I silently prayed he didn’t take my advice the wrong way.[/size][/color][/ul]

[Python]

Dante Draques

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”If I could leave right now, I would.”

What the hell did that mean? The girl wasn’t stranded. Dante wasn’t holding her hostage or anything. Not yet at least. It was a head-scratching statement. It only further convinced him that women were crazy. Everything they said didn’t make sense. Don’t get him wrong - he loved a good woman in the sac, but actually having an intelligent conversation with them? He would rather not. Just send them on their way and let them do as they please. They were too complex and irksome to deal with on a regular basis.

He scoffed at her words. There was no desire to unleash any anger - that had vanished the second this curious girl had leapt out of her tree. He could not deny the small hints of rage that were still stirring deep within him, but they were not strong enough to surface and leave him incapable of control. At the moment he was rational and unable to act out of sheer rashness. She was not a threat, after all. The only dangerous things about her were her words. But that was her own fault.

With a heave he tossed his axe into the air. He watched the sunlight reflect off of the blade as it flipped, creating a gleam, until it came plummeting down once more. He effortlessly caught it with his right hand, the blade facing down towards the girl. With a gentle smirk he took a few steps backward and leaned against the trunk of a tree. Her tree, to be precise. The tree he had watched her spring out of like a monkey. ”It would also be best for both of us if you’d shut up.” he grumbled, hurling the axe into the air once more. He was completely unfazed by the fact that the blade could come down and kill him. He knew it could easily miss and bury itself into his shoulder or his skull. But Dante was too familiar with the weapon to miss it; he caught it with ease and held it down by his side. ”You talk way too much.”

He observed her for a moment, wondering if she would stand up and leave now that he was out of her range. Would she continue to pester him, or would she get over herself and walk away? Dante wished for the second one, but his gut told him the first choice would be the outcome. ”I’ll stay right here, thank you.”

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[Cait]

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[/i] Up until now it hadn’t bothered me, but the more he did it, the more it got on my nerves. It’s not that I like hearing the sound of my own voice or something – did he really think I was that vain? I knew I was far from it. What I laced in vanity I made up for in my mysteriousness. Everyone finds me interesting. No matter how hard I try to stay to myself, they just become more and more interested. And yet, it seems that when I do talk and open up to people, they quickly lose interest. Their lack of knowledge about me intrigues them Anything mysterious is something desirable.[/color]

Does all this thinking mean I really am vain? I’d always known my secretiveness was my downfall when it came to making friends, yet I always knew that whenever I said something intelligent, nobody seems to care. But yet I continue to act mysterious, knowing it will attract more attention to me.

This thought had me puzzled now. There was nothing in the world I would rather have than my own company. Privacy. And yet there was still a small part of me that longed for attention. It was so deep down inside me, so unused and shrivelled up that it was easily forgotten in my own life problems. I had better things to worry about then getting attention, but by keeping to myself I just attract even more attention. Maybe it was a subconscious thing; that was probably it, but there was still doubt. Doubt that maybe there was something else behind my secretiveness. What are you talking about, Cecilia? It’s your business, not anyone else’s. There’s no need to share everything with the nosy people who surround you.[/i] It was so strange. Usually I wouldn’t even doubt my own reasonings, but today everything had changed, and I knew that even after I left the forest these new found doubts would keep me up at night.

And it was all because of this boy, who had triggered everything that had happened today.

Naturally, I hadn’t voiced any of this out loud. Since the boy’s rude remarks had begun to annoy me, I didn’t really see the use in wasting my breath talking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. And up until now, it hadn’t been necessary. Not one bit. But as my train of thought came to an end, I noticed the gleam of the axe out of the corner of my eye, and realised that he must have thrown his weapon into the air. Maybe he’s giving it up in an act of selflessness, to show that he won’t hurt me.[/color]

But I knew deep down that wouldn’t be true.

And I was right. Without a care, he easily caught the axe again. I pictured him showing off, throwing the axe up high into the air and training his eyes on me. Not even bothering to look up at where he axe might fall, as he was that confident that he would catch the axe again. But in my vision, I imagined him reaching out his hand in anticipation of the axe, and completely misjudging where the axe would land. So, instead of effortlessly catching the axe, it fell on the ground in front of him. Then maybe I could have used it against him, but ruled that option out immediately, as I was still too dazed to move. So instead, my vision shifted, and the axe was yet again falling through the sky, only this time the boy judged the landing more accurately. However, he hadn’t been prepared, and the axe’s sharp blade had sliced off his hand. I could almost hear his cries of pain as he took in his severed hand on the ground. And yet again, my vision changed, and this time as the axe fell, it fell right on top of the boy’s head, slicing it off, and delivering the blow that would end his life. I imagined the crimson liquid seeping from his neck, his cold, dead eyes staring into nothingness, and his decomposing body being left here for days without any way of making it back home. Perhaps the little woodland creatures would be brave enough to approach the boy, then, realising he was dead, begin to feed on him…

Wow. What lovely thoughts for a 13-year-old.

As I came out of my beautiful trance, I noticed the boy’s lips moving up and down, yet again. Who knows? Maybe he’ll say something useful this time.[/color] But that was not the case. It was mainly the same old dribble I’d heard him repeating over and over again, and to be honest, I was quite sick of him. I tuned out again as he tossed the axe in the air once more, and thought that I might have a sudden relapse of the horrible vision I’d seen earlier. Instead, I focused on just how long it might take me to move from my weak position on the ground. I felt a lot better than I had after I had first come out of my flashback, but was still certain that I would fall if I tried to stand. I only needed to stall him a little longer, maybe 5 more minutes. Then I could stand up again without fearing that I was going to topple onto the ground again, and making an even bigger fool out of myself. So as I stayed firmly planted on the ground and listened to the boy’s refusal to leave, I simply laughed. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but I just needed to stall him long enough. Then I’m out of here.[/color]

I guess I could have just told the boy that I was too unstable to move, but then there would be no doubt that he would attack me. You don’t just leave a weak opponent whom you have come to hate so much stranded on the forest floor. Besides, the only rational thing I could think to do was laugh, even though it was probably quite irrational. But I was making an effort not to speak anymore. If he was just going to contradict everything I said, then I wasn’t going to waste anymore air on him.

So on I laughed. Not an annoying, loud, rude laugh, but a soft, tinkling laugh, a laugh that one might associate with a fairy’s laugh. My laughter must have eventually died down – I’m not too sure how long it lasted, and I knew that the boy would be getting increasingly agitated. A dangerous move, but already I felt more stable. I was nearly ready to leave. Finally.[/ul][/color][/size]

[Python]

Dante Draques

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Something odd was lingering in the air. Dante’s eyes shifted awkwardly back and forth. The sounds of birds chirping and squirrels scuffling seemed to distract him for a moment. He didn’t recall hearing those noises before. The silence was so eerie he could hear every little--

Wait, what?

Silence. Such a precious thing when you realize how valuable it can be. He suddenly felt like he belonged in the forest--the real forest, where there was no pesky little girl to bother him--and inhaled the sweet scent of pine. It was an average day again, and Dante was strolling through the forest with his trusty axe. He would be chopping trees, no doubt. He was always chopping trees. Swinging that weapon around was like a toddler playing with his toy; it was gratifying, amusing, and simple. Now, he felt like things weren’t so simple. Not with this girl here, hindering is fun time. Why did girls have such a knack for ruining his mood with their annoying…voices? Women shouldn’t speak, he decided. Not unless they were begging for his affection. He smiled at the thought of that.

The smile quickly faded when he refocused his eyes and looked at--whatever this girl’s name was. She was still on the ground acting like a helpless, pathetic puppy. Actually, she was more like a rat. Puppies were cute and cuddly. This girl just pissed him off. Glancing at her made him want to kick a puppy. There were no puppies around to be kicked, however, so she would do for now.

In the midst of Dante’s fantasy--a fantasy where his foot connected with the girl’s ribs--he thought he heard an odd squeak. The source of the noise came from the direction of the girl. Dante blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating. Surely it was just a part of his fantasy, especially since he had just compared her to a rat, but as he paused and listened, he could still hear it. It was no longer a squeak, however. It was a laugh.

It was more like a soft giggling sound. Dante hated giggling. It sounded stupid and childish, and he hated children. Dante hated a lot of things. He wasn’t sure what the hell was so funny. He figured she was just loony. Worthy of the crazy house. She could stay in the room next to his.

Because you’re insane, just like her.

Dante forced himself to shrug it off. Let her laugh. She could not mock him; he was Dante Draques. He was a handsome badass. With an axe that could slice her head of with a simple swish of his arm. He could giggle at the thought, but he would not resort to such childish behavior. No, he would maintain his composure. He would approach the situation maturely and try not to maim the girl until the timing was proper. He felt like a jungle cat stalking his prey. The thought nearly made him shudder.

An amusing idea suddenly struck him. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly. It was clever--but would it work? Considering this for a moment, he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand and stared at the still leaves on the forest floor. Then, he dropped his axe. Hands in his pockets he casually walked over to the girl once more as if he were approaching one of his classmates. He paused for a moment to stare at her, wondering if it would just be better for him to run back and retrieve his axe. Why should he even be keeping her alive? She was a lunatic. Useless to the world. Nothing to him.

He extended his hand.

”Can you stand?”

[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

[Cait]

Doing
Thinking
Talking
Listening

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[/color] “Can you walk?”[/b] he asked me. Of course I can’t walk idiot. Why do you think I’m still here? But I held my tongue yet again, not wanting to annoy the boy any more. I'd already caused enough trouble here, and it was really time for me to be leaving.

Still, the offer of his hand seemed very tempting.

I considered taking his help, but something held me back. There was something not quite right about his offer. Although he looked genuine enough, it was so strange of him to be nice to me, just out of the blue. As far as I was aware, he hated me. No, I didn't want his help. Everything about the situation was wrong. The way he dropped his axe a little too carefreely, the way he held my gaze a little too boldly. It was as if he was asking me for a challenge. He was probably devising some evil plan at this very moment as I tried to make up my mind. Besides, I'd come this far on my own, toughing it out from my defenseless position on the ground, and I wasn't about to throw it all away in a moment of weakness.

As I held my head up stubbornly, I found my mind wandering yet again,and had no choice but to go along with the thoughts developing in my head. This time, it seemed I was in the woods again, by myself. I had seen this memory many times before, and knew where it was going. It started off with me in the middle of the clearing, taking in the fresh smell of pine. The silence was deafening, and not even a bird's chirp could be heard. I liked it that way. I was all by myself, with nothing to distract me or get in my way.

As I climbed a rather sturdy tree and reached the very top of the branches, I sat down and looked out across the vast land. All I could see for miles was trees and plants, plants and trees, trees being chopped down and trees just beginning to grow. I had the most abnormal fascination with trees, and in my fantasy I sat in the tall oak tree for ages watching time fly by, not a care in the world, unaware of everything but the forest. I'd heard people talk about wanting to leave here, to live in the Capitol or District 1 or 2. Most people hate it here, but adapt because they have to. It's not an option to hate your way of living.

But not me. I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. As long as I was grounded in District 7, I knew that nothing could ever harm me.

As I sat on the ground of the forest floor, caught up in my vision, I waited for the next part of the glorious image. The next thing that was supposed to happen was me jumping through every tree, like a monkey, swinging from stray vines with great skill that only a small, 13 year old like myself could aquire. As I prepared myself for the wind blowing through my long brown hair, kissing my face lightly as I flew threw the air, i wa caught quite off guard with the sudden change of events. Instead of the vision I had expected, I saw me falling out of my oak tree.

Falling. Falling. The word is so foreign to me. I'd never fall from a tree. Except for that one time when I was little.... but apart from that... never.[/i][/color]

Something had changed. Something had caused the fantasy to change. Still stuck in my own head, I tried to wrap my mind around what had just happened, but couldn't find the words to explain it. As I tuned back into the vision, I noticed that as I was falling through the air with the ground fast approaching me, that there was something wrong here. As time slowed down, I glanced anxiously at the ground to see a large axe placed directly above where I would land. Emergiing from the shadows was the boy, and I let out a small, silent scream as I pulled myself away from the nightmare.

Now that i was back in the real world, I noticed that hardly any time had gone by, and the boy still had his hand oustretched to me. After the vision-gone-wrong, I knew I could never trust this boy. Even if the nightmare wasn't real, it felt so real that I had enough sanity to shake my pounding head slowly, obvious that I was refusing the boy’s offer. As much as I wanted to get off the floor, I felt certain I could do it myself without his help. He also scares me a little too much.. I felt a little better and was certain that it would only be 2 minutes at the most until I was stable enough to stand on my own. Then, finally, I could leave. After today, I didn’t want anything else to do with this strange boy.

But I knew that wouldn’t be the case. We would meet again, somehow.

Tired and still shocked from the nightmare, I managed to speak in a timid shy voice. No longer was I bold and unafraid. Now I was the complete opposite – weary and very scared. “I’m fine, I’ll just stay right here. Thanks though.” I couldn’t tell him I was unable to move. Not yet. It wouldn’t mater in a few minutes anyway. I’d be able to leave, and we could both forget about this whole incident.

Pfft… yeah right.[/i]
[/size][/ul]

[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

Dante, being the beastly thing that he is, wanted to express kindness in order to confuse and stun his prey before making the pounce, and during this process had offered his hand to help her stand up. And just like that, she rejected him.

Rejection was a harsh thing for a teenage boy to cope with, especially when dealing with women. Fortunately for Dante, he was not dealing with a woman. He was dealing with a girl. At least three years younger than him, he predicted. And he would never swing that low. Too underdeveloped. It would feel sick to pursue a girl so young - and not the good kind of sick, either. So her rejection did not sting him. Her words barely scratched the surface, in fact. He was unfazed by her. He merely shrugged and withdrew his hand. He was not finished, however - the tiger would never quit stalking its prey. Not until it was dead or out of its reach, and the girl was practically a sitting duck.

The only part of her reaction that stunned him was her choice of words: ”I’m fine. I’ll just stay right here. Thanks though.” Her politeness was irritating beyond belief. How could she maintain such composure? The two had been bickering only minutes ago, and now it seemed like the girl had every intention of showing kindness. Was she copying him? Were the two both attempting to screw each other up? Or was this girl just that unbelievable? Dante mentally shook his head. No - she could have created an identical plan. He was the devious one, not her. She was the harmless rabbit, and he was the raging tiger.

With no intention of leaving the scene, Dante decided he would simply copy her actions. He knelt and sat down upon the ground in front of her, criss-crossing his legs and resting his elbows upon his knees. He stared at her for a moment, eyes slightly squinted, as if he were studying her. His irises were pools of ocean-water, gleaming with a silver that veiled beauty with darkness. It was as if the blue was corrupted - like him. ”Why won’t you move?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue as if he had suddenly grasped words out of thin air and formed them into a question. It was appropriate enough; the girl had, after all, been sitting in the same spot for several minutes now, with many opportunities to stand and flee the forest. Yet she remained, and there had to be a significant reason why. It certainly wasn’t for Dante; the pair despised each other, and they both knew it. They could feel it. Boiling anger and awkward tension hanging in the air. There was no doubt in his mind that he hated this innocent brat - but she was still here, and that fact sparked his curiosity. ”You’ve been sitting there for the past five minutes.”

The statement brought on a new revelation: what if this girl couldn’t move? It seemed impossible, what with his eyes witnessing her movement only minutes ago when she leapt out of the tree..

Or was that it? Had the leap damaged her legs somehow? Perhaps her foot or her ankle? His gaze slowly shifted to that area, searching for signs of swelling. Nothing out of the ordinary. He pondered this fact for a moment - could it be true? He recalled her standing directly in front of him as if trying to intimidate him, only moments after her feet had touched the ground. She didn’t seem like the girl who could ignore pain; if she had injured her leg somehow, she was doing a hell of a good job playing it off as nothing. But that didn’t matter.

Because Dante thought it was hilarious.

[/size][/justify][/blockquote]

[Cait]

Doing
Thinking
Talking
Listening

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I waited anxiously for the boy’s reaction, I wondered what was going through his head. He still hadn’t picked up his weapon, so maybe he wasn’t ready to attack my just yet. I stared longingly at the weapon. What I would give just to have control of this situation, to have that axe in my hand…

[/i] But I knew that violence at this particular moment wouldn’t keep me alive right now. I wasn’t afraid, of course. I was never afraid. Fear was something I’d tended to overcome overtime. But there was something here about this guy. The longer I stayed here, the more fearful I became.

I need to leave.

I looked up at the boy’s face and immediately noticed he was withdrawing his hand. So maybe he is going to leave after all. But I knew that it was too much to hope for. The boy simply shrugged and sat down next to me. I felt a flicker of surprise pass over my face and knew that the boy must have seen it as well, for he seemed much more calm, now that he was back in control of the situation. I couldn’t make sense of any of it – I still wasn’t sure why he had offered his hand out to me. It had terrible mistake written all over it. But this was the calmest that I’d seen this boy since arriving, and it intimidated me more than when he was raging with a fire building in his chest.

He locked his gaze on me and I immediately felt a shudder pass through my body, and not the good type. His blue eyes searched my face intently, straining to work out my motives and what not. I casually lifted my gaze to a nearby tree and stared at it, admiring its beauty. Trees had to be the most beautiful things in the universe, hands down. There was no competition. The green leaves rustled gently in the soft breeze, a stray leaf falling from the high branches every now and then. The forest was silent, apart from the rustling of leaves in the trees and the shallow breathing coming from my mouth. The boy was completely silent. It was unnerving. I’d never thought someone could be so quiet, and especially wouldn’t have thought of something like that being capable for this boy. He’s quieter than me when I’m climbing through the trees…

Now it was I who was trying to work the other one out.

As I looked back at the boy, he began to speak in a gentle tone. It was strange, hearing the words flow so beautifully out of his mouth, when I knew that he was not beautiful at all. If I was blind, maybe I would think differently. But no, instead I had to be almost deaf in one ear, which, unfortunately, wasn’t enough to block out the boy’s words. But in a strange way, I wanted him to continue talking in that soft voice. It was eerily calming. As I focused more on what the boy was saying, I felt my heart skip a beat, my breathing becoming quicker, head spinning slightly.

“Why won’t you move? You’ve been sitting there for the past five minutes.”

That’s a shock. All this time I thought he would have understood… especially coming from someone like him. It didn’t matter. I could stand now, I knew I’d be able to. What harm would it do in telling him? I’d be leaving anyway, retreating back into the safety of the trees that I loved so much, hidden from the harsh reality that we call life. And so I spoke, not wanting to give the boy any more satisfaction in taking advantage of the situation, thinking that he was in charge. “I thought you would have known? I don’t even know, after my little… episode.. I just couldn’t stand. Like all the energy had been sucked out of me. You know?” I gazed at the boy timidly, wondering if he really did understand what I meant. I knew I must look like a silly immature little girl, and that he would be seeing me as an actual 13-year-old for the first time.

And I didn’t care. He probably deserved to see me for who I really was, after all. “It’s hard to explain,” I continued. “That little incident, nothing like that has happened in forever. I forgot what it felt like…”[/color] I could feel my voice trailing off, faltering a little on the last word so that it sounded like a little choking noise. I knew now that telling him had been a bad idea. What would he care for my weakness? It was just a greater advantage. And even though I’d felt recovered enough before to stand up again, after admitting defeat, I felt like my 5-year-old self yet again. I knew I could leave, that I should leave, but I wouldn’t. Something continued to hold me there.

And so I waited. Yep, I’m definitely crazy.[/i][/blockquote][/justify][/size]

[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

Apparently he was supposed to be Dante the mind-reader now. ”I thought you would have known?” Known what? That she was a complete lunatic who liked to scream in the middle of the forest and collapse like a stubborn child throwing a tantrum at her mommy? Hell no. Women were mysterious creatures, and this girl was no exception. She had spotted him swinging his axe in a storm of rage, leaped out of her tree, spoke to him, started screaming, then collapsed only to refuse to stand after several minutes passed. Even after the danger of him slitting her throat grew evident. Unless she was injured in some fashion - a choice he didn’t see likely judging by the absence of any signs - there was no possible way for him to determine why she was acting like a freak of nature. A good mystery was sometimes enthralling and exciting, but trying to solve puzzles just tested his patience.

Spit it out already.

What she said next was the understatement of the century. Little episode? More like crazy-woman breakdown. Apparently it had drained every last ounce of energy from her leaving her incapable of using her legs. How convenient. Dante concealed the hand that twitched and ached to wrap itself around the wooden handle of his trusty axe. The overwhelming and joyful thought of cutting her stupid flesh with his blade he pushed away as much as he could to prevent himself from losing control. If he wanted to fool the girl into believing that he had changed into a calm, sincere, caring district seven lumberjack, it was necessary to put on a convincing façade. This also meant that he actually had to pretend to care about the girls problems. Damn, what the hell had he been thinking?

He nodded silently, pretending to share the same feeling as her. Did he know what it felt like to be drained of all energy? Not quite. He didn’t care, to be honest - he never had, and he never will. Let the girl believe what she wanted. In her mind, he could know exactly what it felt like to lose all of his energy. Suddenly he wanted to feed her all of the delicious lies he could think of. Who knows, maybe she would grow to like him?

Now that was worthy of a laugh.

“..nothing like that has happened in forever. I forgot what it felt like…”. Blah blah blah. Was she finished yet? Dante pursed his lips together and continued to study her. He nodded his head once more, reminding her that he was listening. Somewhat. ”I see,” he muttered softly diverting his gaze to the ground for a moment. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? He didn’t even care - not one bit. Damn it all. ”Well, I’m sorry about that.” Ha ha ha! As if he could ever produce an honest and sincere apology. Dante apologized to nobody - at least not truthfully. He was wearing a mask now, though, so he could pretend to be whoever he wanted. A kind, sensitive guy with real human emotions? Sounds good.

He parted his lips to add something to this scrumptious plate of lies, but paused suddenly when he realized that he couldn’t spice up his act. Why? Because he didn’t even know the girl’s name. How odd that after all of this time had passed they were still complete strangers. Then again, Dante didn’t care about her or her name, so it did make a little bit of sense. He decided to change this, however. ”By the way, my name is Dante, in case you were wondering.”

[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

[Cait]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

You’re not a real human. You’re a monster.

I knew that he wasn’t. No matter what he did to convince himself otherwise, whether it was for his benefit or mine, he was still messed up and hideous. As he spoke, only half-heartedly paying attention, I found myself wondering yet again why I even bothered talking. Maybe it was a sub-conscious thing, that I wanted to show this boy I wasn’t scared of him, or intimidated. I wasn’t one to ever get scared, but this boy seemed to have a few fears of his own up his sleeve. I’ll find them out.

A silence settled over us, not for the first time today, and I waited for the boy to speak again. Maybe he’d just become so fed up in my aimless rambling that he’d decided to ignore me completely. It didn’t really matter to me. I hadn’t had a good talk in a while, and getting all these feelings out in the open was a way of making them more real. Another way to better cope with it. And I suddenly realised that I hadn’t been talking for the boy’s sake, but for my own.

Talking wasn’t something I was very good at. Sure, I could be bold, and obnoxious, get up in people’s faces. But really, wasn’t it all just a show? A way to hide the real despair and hopelessness I was feeling inside. I hadn’t ever thought of myself as in depression, or that there was something mentally wrong with me. I still don’t, just odd. A little different. Compared to some of the other people who lived here, I was an angel.

Compared to this boy right here. What the hell, I still don’t even know his name?

I didn’t think of myself as a psychopath, or crazy. But this guy obviously did. He didn’t have the nerve to say anything though, unless it was just an act, but it was evident in his face. At the mention of little episode you could see the slight shock register there, at such an understatement to him, but to me, it meant nothing at all. And each time he did something like that, I managed to lose a little more self-esteem. Not a lot, but enough to drain me soon enough, if I stayed any longer. Now that I felt able to stand, I would be able to leave. Get away from this craziness and forget all about it. It might make me look weak, or timid, if I was to run away now, but would it even matter to me?

It would matter more than anything. You know that well enough.

So I was trying to be brave, was that it then? Was that why I still couldn’t bring myself to stand up and walk away? Maybe there was fear, too. Fear that the moment I turned my back on the creep he’d through an axe in my back. I didn’t know, and that was the most frustrating part. Not being able to understand something properly. You feel lost, and blind. Worthless. You keep wondering what your actual purpose is, and begin to doubt every little thing you do until your driven mad with fear. I knew that I wouldn’t go crazy from it, but the confusion was maddening. I’d always tried to confront my own fears, and let go of the past, but had never fully grasped that complicated process.

Up until today.

Without even knowing what was happening, I began feeling a rush of thoughts to my head. That not all of this today had been a waste. I‘d found out a lot about myself than I ever thought possible, but I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Had this boy sitting in front of me found this beneficial for him as well? Probably not. He was pretty set on putting up fake walls to shelter his inside demeanour. A tactic that didn’t work too well for me, as I’d discovered, but maybe worked better for him. I didn’t know how his mind worked. I couldn’t get inside of him, and it seemed practically impossible to even try and empathise and put myself in his ugly shoes.

I’d come here today, expecting it to be another lonely day in the woods, high up in the trees, lounging around without a care. Instead, I’d gotten this. A slight change from the usual routine. What an understatement. I would never have even dreamt of experiencing something like this, nor would I ever want to. Right now, all I wanted to do was be back up in that tree that he’d found me in to begin with, enjoying the sunlight and the perfect weather in District 7 during Spring time. But something told me that after today, even I would not be back to visit the trees, my only friends, every day like I usually did. I had to change. I couldn’t mope around in the woods for the rest of my life. I had to help my family as well, and even though I’d always felt squeamish about cutting down these very trees, sometimes you had to sacrifice things you cared about in order to survive

This whole thing had been a new experience. I’d taken a chance, jumped into something completely out of my comfort zone, which was just another thing that I could say I no longer feared. With each new experience you can gain something, and I knew that I’d gained plenty from today’s encounter. I felt confident that I would gain more in the future as well, no matter what I might be doing. I had to turn my life around, even if only a little.

I didn’t even realise the boy was still speaking. His mouth was moving, speaking words that were not really there. I forced myself to listen, straining the deadened muscles in my left ear to try and listen too, no matter if I was half deaf or not. I’d thought he would say something interesting at least, but he’d left me with a name. His name, something that I’d been wondering about every now and then. A name can make you feel more in control. It can make something that you might be sceptical of even existing real. So as the words passed his lips, I was shocked to find that I did not feel in control, or even feel any better about the whole situation. To me, Dante was just the name of a psychopathic crazy boy who needed help. It was strange. I’d never experienced that. Maybe because we’re so similar. Maybe because, if our situations were reversed, there wouldn’t be much difference between us.

Dante was quite an unusual name, and I was confused about his motives for even telling me his name. Assuming that it must be a trick to try and suck me in yet again, I dismissed the fact that he might have been actually trying to bond with me. The thought was laughable. Somebody like him trying to be polite and sociable, pretending that he had actual feelings? Haha. I thought that I should probably tell him my name, out of respect, but wondered if I should lie about it. In the end, I could see no harm in telling him a name.

After all, what is a name really? It’s something given to an inanimate object that allows them to become real. Without a name you are nobody, and without a name there is no hope for you. Even the non-living things had names. Trees, plants, houses, books, grass. How lonely it would feel to be the only one without a name. No name for someone to call out to you with in the middle of the night, when they were worried about you. No name for someone to congratulate you with when you did something right. No name to make yourself real. Living without a name was like living without a soul.

“My name is Cecilia.

The words had flown out of my mouth without me even knowing, or being able to stop it. This was just another thing not to be afraid of anymore, and also helped convince me that I was indeed real. That this was all actually happening, and that it wasn’t a fragment of my own imagination. After what I’d been through today, I would have collapsed right there if I’d found out it had all been a dream. Exhausted and weak, I would have curled up into a ball and lain there for 6 months.

If I even survived that long.

Instead, those 4 spoken words fuelled me, and I forced my cramped legs to move, slight cracks able to be heard as I stood, sounds even I could hear so clearly in this silent clearing. I looked at Dante. It was time for me to go. I felt like I owed him a thanks, for helping me, but I didn’t know how to say it. Maybe I’d been wrong about him in the first place, and he wasn’t a crazy boy, even though that weight pressing down on my chest convinced me that he was. As I looked into his eyes, I eyed the axe lying a few feet away from me, swallowing hard. I looked back to his face and tried to speak.

“I’m really sorry about all of this. It wasn’t my business, any of it. This may sound bizarre, but I feel more content now. As if before, there was part of me missing, or there was something I kept overlooking. I just feel more… in sync with myself now, you know? And I know you’ll be silently complaining about my rambling but that’s okay, I don’t mind.” My voice was soft and soothing, like a mother’s voice trying to calm a young child. It was strange to be coming from a 13-year-old girl, but I no longer felt the need to be bold. I’d mellowed down somewhat, and even though it was strange I hoped it was for the best. “I just wanted to get it out there, that I appreciate it. I’ve learnt so much, gotten over so many fears… I’m just a girl, but I feel much, much older and mature. I don’t know what changed. You probably don’t even care, and I don’t blame you. But now, I have a better life ahead of me. I can’t sit in trees the rest of my life. I need to make a difference. And I know you’re hurting, but you’ll be okay.”

My fears had been overcome. I’d done something I never could have expected to ever do. Show compassion. It seemed like such a small thing but it filled me with a greater hope. It was time to let go of the past once and for all.

And with that, I walked away, not even a single glance behind me at Dante, nor the axe. I was leaving behind the past, and looking forward to a new future. Leaving the clearing, absent-mindedly running my hand along the crumbling bark of an oak tree, wriggling my toes in the lush green grass, inhaling earthly smells that were more reminding of home than my home itself, I felt content.

“One day I will start to fly, and I will never look back.”

[/color][/i]


{OOC : Thanks Python for being such an amazing person to thread with! I enjoyed it immensely, and can’t wait to thread again in the future! <3[/center][/blockquote][/justify][/size]

[Python]

Dante Draques

Narration
Speech
Thoughts

My name is Cecilia

The words seemed like gasoline added to a fire; they fueled her. He spotted something flickering in her eyes, and suddenly she was moving again. He could hear her joints popping as her legs worked to support her weight after resting lifelessly and uselessly for far too long. Upon seeing the movements he too decided to stand up, but his movements were swift and sharp as if he were preparing to strike like a venomous snake. His hands did not touch the girl, however. As much as he wanted to snap her scrawny legs with his hands and watch the bone lacerate her dainty flesh like a knife slicing butter he resisted the temptation out of sheer curiosity. Something had encouraged the girl to stand up after minutes of kneeling on the forest floor with her body completely vulnerable to Dante’s axe, and he wanted to know what it was. It already felt like an eternity had passed since he had first wandered into the forest and buried the tip of his trusty blade into the bark of an innocent tree - a tree he had wished was a living, breathing human being with flesh and blood and guts that he could chop like porkchops. Such seductive thoughts drove him into fits of rage and madness. He was surprised that he had actually managed to control himself around this fresh slab of meat that had so conveniently dropped from a nearby tree.

Now, he could match a name to a face. Cecilia was the crazy screaming girl who was practically begging to be killed. She was the tree-climbing girl who had broken down into some strange episode that pierced his eardrums and shook his nerves to the point where he had almost - almost - slit her throat with his precious blade. He faintly wished that he had. Instead of watching her whimper like a pathetic puppy and riding on patience that was running thinner and thinner as the soles of his feet scraped their surface he should’ve just ended her pointless life and bathed in her blood. It would’ve been so satisfying. But instead he had made a foolish decision and listened to the stupid logical part of his brain. Why did he even have that section of his brain? He didn’t need it. He practically lived on sex and the fantasy of killing. Without logic, life could be heaven. He could kill and kill without thinking twice about it. He would be an unstoppable machine with endless glee and wine bottles filled with each victim’s blood, like a collection. A collection of every victim’s life source. He would stack them in the basement and inhale the bittersweet scent of death and sprinkles of iron that lingered in the air like fumes of a conflagration. The thought made him shudder with pleasure.

Dante was floating in a crimson cloud of beautiful, seductive fantasies when the voice of an angel - a gentle, sickening voice that made him cringe with disgust - shattered the sky and sent him tumbling down into flames. He blinked out of his trance and stared at Cecilia, who was talking to him again as if he actually gave a shit. She apologized for her acting insane. Whatever. But then she continued to ramble about things that didn’t seem to fit together in Dante’s mind. Apparently she felt more in touch with herself - whatever that meant. It all sounded like useless, poetic bullshit to him. What was she trying to say? That this experience had changed her? Hopefully. Maybe she would finally realize how pathetic and useless and crazy she really was. Maybe she would realize that her duty to the world was to soothe Dante’s cravings. Maybe she would give up and ask him to kill her. Please do.

He briefly glanced at the glistening blade that beckoned him. He considered dashing over to the weapon and picking it up to hurl it at Cecilia’s skull or some tender area of her body that would bleed thick rivers of wine. But then, strange words struck him like a bolt of lightning. ”I know you’re hurting, but you’ll be okay.”

How dare she.

How dare she accuse him of such a thing. Dante did not hurt. He felt nothing for nobody during every second of every day. The only sensation that even remotely resembled pain in his body was the burning desire to hang this girl by her ankles and slit her throat. No, he wouldn’t even do that - he would kill her slowly. Make her endure excruciating pain that she could never even imagine. Pain that she had no idea existed in the world of Panem. It would be grander than any kill in the Hunger Games.

His hand twitched again. A breeze rolled by and made his chocolate strands flutter. Cecilia - his prey - was moving away from him in slow motion. He watched with hungry eyes as her soles crunched the leaves and her form grew smaller and smaller until she was concealed by the trees and the brush. His feet remained glued to the forest floor; he was frozen in time, unable to make any moves to chase her, until her figure vanished. With a newly developed and eerie silence that occupied the air Dante inhaled and vaguely began to wonder if everything he had just witnessed was some insane hallucination that the creative part of his brain had created to add to his plethora of twisted fantasies. He knew this could not be true, however - if it was his imagination, the girl would’ve died. His daydreams always ended like that. Blood, screaming, pain, and death. Why would his imagination create this tempting hallucination then torture him by stealing it away from him before he could do his damage and leave his mark? No, he would never torment himself like that.

A wave of fury pierced Dante’s black heart, and he stormed over to the axe with his jaw clenched and his teeth grinding. He wrapped his twitching hand around the wooden handle - it felt so familiar and comfortable in his hands. It belonged there - and turned to face the tree he had previously focused his rage upon. His closed his eyes for a moment, wheels turning and creative juices flowing. He imagined it was Cecilia standing there - I missed my chance before - and then brought his hand back, wishing that he could rewind time and yank the girl back into the clearing where he could tear her apart. Then he hurled the blade as hard as he could and watched it land in dead center of Cecilia’s forehead the trunk. A group of startled birds fluttered their wings and took to the skies; and a single black feather drifted down until it landed upon Dante’s protruding axe. The feather belonged to a vulture. The earth’s vermin. He sighed and shook his head, snapping a twig as his foot shifted forward. Another day, another person he wished he could send to hell. Poor Dante would never be satisfied.

-- End --

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