night terrors [group thread]

[Onyx]

pull out the incisor

give me two weeks, you won't recognise her

[break]
I have always preferred the night. Especially here, in the Reformatory for Wayward Girls, where the very timbers whimper and shudder at their nightmares while those inside sleep soundly. Daytime is full of cruelty of all magnitudes; harsh sunlight, unfair Mistresses and bitter food, but the night is much more forgiving. I like to sit in my room and become part of the darkness, feeling my body blend into it slowly, like when you first wade into cold water and gradually match its chill. That feeling in itself is almost magic, and as such I consider myself to simply be an extension of it. I am a limb of nature, reaching into the human world and grabbing hold of what there is to learn there.

Tonight is something of a reconnaissance mission, by that logic, to gather more knowledge about how fauna and flora interact. I've prepared for weeks, scrupulously collecting my resources and planning to the heartbeat - so not even the strange quiet girls upstairs who divine the future could possibly know more about this night than I do. Even the weather is obeying my wishes, the tiny sliver of the new moon barely shining through the thick clouds. The fine hairs on the backs of my arms are prickling with anticipation as much as they are with the cold. My feet are tied up in cloth sandals designed for agile fighters - future Victors - which provide a balance of lightness and stealth. All my clothes are dark, but my gold nose-ring still glimmers weakly from the centre of my face.

I imagine that I walk out of the House on a cloud which stops my footfall making any noise at all, and surrounded on all sides by glass which muffles my shallow breaths. The door creaks ever so slightly, but naturally, as if the hinges are wishing me luck on my mission. The cold air is almost comforting as it kisses my face. Pulling my hood low, I begin my walk through the dead city.

I first Hunted almost a year ago today, on a night just like this. My offering was a young girl, not even of Reaping age but still with the shadow of muscles stretching over her tiny skeleton - a sign of the future chosen for her. I had watched her for days, making notes on her routine, differentiating between the regularities and anomalies. She had at least six sisters (a strangely large family to find in District One) and for that reason reminded me somewhat of myself, although I know I love my "family" much less than she must have loved her own. But personal connection made as little a difference then as it does now. I'm not doing this for revenge, or personal gain. I am nature's servant, and it is only my duty to make sacrifices to its magic. When the girl began to bleed, the liquid black in the moonlight, she didn't even cry out, just watched in fascination as I filled my vial, tied a ligature at her elbow and, when I was sure she was going to live, unbound her hands and feet and fled. Some of the other Wayward Girls may be messy in their own interests, but murder has always been far too conspicuous for me.

However, I do still wonder if the girl told her family about me when they asked how she got that scar, hair-thin and only the length of the distance between two knuckles. I wonder if she claimed it was a training accident, or if she describes the dark-haired fifteen year old with the golden nose00ring, making my appearance, though not my name, legend in her social circle. Are people afraid of me? Do they mock me as a coward for not 'finishing the job'? And, more than that, will I ever face the consequences of the trouble I could have caused?

I stand now on the first-story balcony of a large building a half-hour's walk from the centre of the District. If there are any Peacekeepers in the District at all tonight, as there so rarely are, they'll be patrolling the living night in the bars and theatres on the other side of the city. My rondel dagger hangs unsheathed from my belt, clinking gently against the metal bottle which I cleaned thoroughly this morning. The figure I'm expecting should be here any moment, and my eyes flicker up and down the road, searching. Suddenly, a strong wind bellows and howls through the street, almost knocking me from my feet. I look up urgently and see what I've been most dreading - the clouds dissolving from in front of the moon, throwing abnormally bright light over my hiding place and the ground below me. What have I done wrong?

I feel the ache of anxiety in my jaw, growing more frightened with every worst-case scenario that flickers half-formed through my mind. And then, I hear it. A cough, a heavy sigh, and footsteps growing ever louder below me. They're hear. My heartbeat quickens and despite the prickling of apprehension in my brain, I duck low behind the balcony, readying myself for the leap.

Time seems to crawl as my subject approaches. I can feel every point of contact my fingers make with the wooden frame around me. The crunch of gravel under shoe slows down, breaths elongating. The moonlight beats down powerfully over everything, and I can't believe it seems even brighter than before. But nothing can stop me now. In one fluid movement, just as I'm sure they're right below me, I launch myself agilely over the balcony and brace myself for the fall. With arms outstretched I descend, feeling the wind cradling my form and my hair stretching out behind me in tendrils. The panic suddenly seems unjustified, and I regain my confidence for the split second before I land on the figure, sending them reeling to the ground.

It's only then that I look up, hearing the silence left by voices I hadn't noticed before, and realise that my offering and I are very much not alone.

INERTIA RAE - SIXTEEN - DISTRICT ONE
TAGGED: brad bradford ★ d5b [arx] b. d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel WORDS: 1015 NOTES: lol sorry enjoy

MEL @ ADOX

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Thane Alenko

They’re so close, I’m not fast enough. Forcing the mechanics that power my legs to go faster, the adrenaline swarming my body seems to have a leak inside me somewhere. Beginning to erupt from my ribcage, my lunges are slowly surrendering to the fight. I must run, I must run for them. Collapsing from beneath me, my lower limbs have raised the white flag, I can’t fight it anymore. Sending my body to the ground, my failing body sends me to the pits of surrender. Pounding towards me, I can hear their footstep growing ever so quickly. Darkness blinds my sight as my body prepares itself for the pain to come.

I’ve changed. Lately something has triggered in my brain and It has changed me. My drive to protect the twins has flipped, now any wrong move from a stranger sends me into a space of frustration. I can’t help it, something is happening to me and I must stop. I don’t want to hurt anyone; I just want to shield the twins from pain. Pain that I let relish through my body, pain that has become a norm for me. It’s gone, my soft heart has gone. All the plain inflicted on it has hardened the organ. I am not who I used to be and look where it has gotten me.

Tonight is like any other night. I’ve been tied down in this mess and tonight I tried to untangle myself from it.It didn’t go to plan as I should’ve expected. Men that have tied strings to me, that are able to manipulate me and put me in such unthinkable situations have turned against me. I bit the hand that fed me and now I am getting abuse that they say I deserve. What would my Aunt think? The twins, they can never learn of this night.

I had to take a life, just because of a simple mistake; I had to take a life. A young life, full of dreams and potential. In return, I would’ve been pledged with safety and a lump sum of money. Of course when I was given the task, the only thing that ran through my mind was the money. Gold for my aunt and siblings, we could’ve eaten the finest foods for days, indulged ourselves in the greatest commodities that District One offers. But a young spiteful life was to be taken in return for my family’s happiness. How could’ve I torn away something like that? Cause terror to another family just to please my own. I couldn’t do it but I couldn’t show that to them, I had to shield my cowardliness.

Simple, easy, I would’ve just plucked him from a bar and dragged him around back. A simple knock to the head, a slice across his jugular or a blade through the heart. All simple quick deaths, that’s what I have been taught but not experienced.

As I had him pinned to the wall, his eyes painted with fear, it struck me. He was no less than four years older than the twins, he was just a kid. A kid who had taken a shortcut on life and ended up in the wrong place; just like me. The blade pranced across his youthful skin, ready to sink it’s teeth inside him. He didn’t even fight for his life, he just gave up and I had that life in my hands. I could spare him or take it. Dancing around in my head, the thought of my family doused in money was interrupted by the thought of his young lifeless body collapsed on the floor. ”Just go kid, run.” Releasing the boy, I watched him plea his thank you as he disappeared into the distance.

I knew now that I had done the right thing but in those men’s eyes I am a coward.

It wasn’t long before they found out about my failed task and now they’re chasing me, chasing me to my own death.

Face planting the floor, I’d curl into a ball, preparing my body for the fate that was to come to it. Flashing through my eyes, I’d think of the twins, happy in their life I have given them. I am their protector, their hero and my aunt is their guardian, my guardian. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve all been left for dead on the streets. No food, no shelter and most of all no love. But I’ve thrown all she gave to me away and now I am a demon. A demon who nearly took a boy’s life tonight and now I getting payback for that.

Cringing with each foot that finds itself in the back of my head and the rest of the body, I am able to protect fragile body parts such as ribs. With every hit, a shock of pain swims around my body but I am immune. I’ve grown too used to it. The hard years in the centre, the fights on the street, the club. ”Ahh just leave the pussy, he’s learnt his lesson.” The words of the infiltrator send relief through my body, as I’d uncurl myself as they leave.

Pushing myself off the ground, my body would feel as if it was out to sea, swaying as I climb to my legs. Torn from my torso, it seems the men had a tug of war with my shirt. Peeling away the shirt, splatters of blood coat my body, the sources unknown in the dim night light. I can’t go home like this. I am a mess; I’ll worry my aunt too much. Wrapping the shirt around my arm, I’d allow the Autumn air to bite my skin, sending goose bumps up and down my body. The cold applies some relief to my wounds.

Walking away from the place that could’ve been the spot where I die, my mind would be planning, planning where I could bed down for the night. I need somewhere warm, someplace to hide from the terrors of the night.

Voices circulate the air around me as it seems the night is as busy as the day. I have no favourable time  but the night always seems majestic in its stillness. Despite all the bad deeds thrown on me this night.

Walking for about twenty minutes, the pain begins to fight my immunity, as a stinging sensation takes over my body.Coughing, my dying lunges seem to be regaining consciousness; slowly my body is fixing itself.

Crashing to the pavement, it was if I am hallucinating from the earlier blows to my head. Laying crumpled on the ground, I’d look around for the source of my demise. A person? Who are they? Why have they just fallen from the sky? Are they drunk? Am I drunk?

”What the fuck.” Seems to be the only appropriate comment for the moment as I’d try to knock my brain back into function mode.

1146 words