but i'm just a ghost

Hi! My name's Hadrian Combe and I'm 17 years old. Currently honoring District 8 in 140th Hunger Games and just trying to navigate my way through this roller-coaster ride.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She already hated her job and it only had been a few hours since she had been assigned it.

She didn't even get to the better part of the job yet, if there even is a better part. The place where she had to make sure plants were safe was not open today, so she was stuck with watering potted plants. Plant after plant had been watered, and she was growing bored quickly. She tried to have her mind wander elsewhere, but all she could think was that this was part of what she had to do for the rest of her life. She sighed. She'd rather be stuck in her little jail cell of her room for the day than do this. Even if she tried to negotiate her way to a different job, they probably wouldn't give it to her. 

Since she was so busy thinking, she didn't realize she was watering the floor, not the plant. She looked down and jumped, and quickly went back to watering the plant. There was a giant puddle on the floor, a "potential hazard" the lady who gave her all her supplies would say. She put down the watering can and got down on her hands and knees to clean up the spill with some towels she got. She sighed again. This was the worst job ever for her.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

Testing was, simply put, horrible.

The man asking her questions was rude, and would constantly yell at her if she didn't answer questions quick enough. The questions didn't seem to make any sense, and had nothing to do with jobs. If she ever rolled her eyes, he'd just yell at her some more. The Peacekeeper in the room said nothing, and she had to endure around an hour of questions and yelling. She thought that he was going to slap her at some points, but her broken nose probably saved her from that.

When the verdict came about her job, she was stunned and a bit pissed.

"Plants." He simply said.

"Plants?"

"Yes, plants." 

She looked at him like he had ten heads. Plants? What does he mean by plants? She looked back at the Peacekeeper, who again, did nothing. She sighed and looked back up. "What do you mean by plants?"

He looked at her and rolled her eyes. "Every day, Peacekeepers bring in plants from the surface for food. Your job would be to determine which plants are safe for eating and which are not." He stopped, but then started back up. "Oh, and we have some plants lying around here that you could water and take care of."

She looked at him in disbelief. She didn't know how he pulled that out of his ass, but it's not like she could object. So, she stood up, and through gritted teeth, said, "Thank you, sir." and walked out.

Muttering to herself about what an ass that guy was, she continued down the hallway, passing a few people, and not even caring if she bumped into people. She was too pissed about her "career" that had been chosen for her. Plants, what a joke. Her friends would have a good laugh about this. At one point, she bumped into someone, not even bothering to look up. She muttered a "sorry" and "watch it" and continued on her not-so-merry way down the hall.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

"This isn't blonde."

She looked at herself in the hairdresser's mirror, studying herself. She kept looking at her face, her broken nose and tiny scars being very noticeable, but then remembered her hair. Now, it was short, at shoulder length and her side-bangs had become regular bangs. She had never cut it this short, never allowing her father back home to cut it. Her long hair had always been there, but now, it wasn't. And now, her hair was sort of a peach-orange color, a color she did not want.

After a long, restless night with absolutely no sleep, she stared at her red locks. The red hair caused memories to come back- terrible ones, where she was cut up and killed by Wade. She couldn't take her red hair anymore. Somehow, she found out there was a hairdresser here, and she decided to take action. She went to the hairdresser and asked for her hair to be cut short and be bleach blonde, like it was for those few days in the Training Center. The hairdresser was more than happy to do this, since most people had normal hair color in District 13. He went to work, snipping away at her hair until it was shoulder length, then dying it. She thought it would turn out blonde, but now, it was peach-orange with spots of yellow in it.

"Well, maybe it will fade?" The hairdresser said. She turned to him and gave him a look. This color wouldn't fade to bleach blonde. It would fade out, but not to the color she wanted. "I can always re-dye it..."

"No, it's fine, I'll just take this. Thanks." She said before walking out. She didn't want to go through the process again, knowing that maybe, he'd mess up again and dye her hair rainbow or something. She sighed, and continued walking down the hallway. Now, she had to get tested for her "career", or slave work as she liked to call it. The last thing she wanted to do was be interrogated.

[gunnaroverwhill]

“Ignore them.” He motioned his head over to the crown of people still staring. “Most of them are idiots anyway.” His thoughts lead him to Twila, who he once more pushed out of his mind. It wasn’t likely he’d see her again, and what was the point if he did? 

He grinned at her comment, looking around at the people once more. “My partial nudity is turning them all on, let’s face it.” He waggled his eyebrows at them all before turning around again and taking another bite of food. He swallowed, and then pulled her plate towards him. 

After another few bites, he looked over to her a frowned, already guessing what she was thinking. “This place is a shithole, Blondie, not gonna lie to you. Could be worse though.” He stared at his plate, and the  back to Hadrian. “At least you’ve got your boyfriend here, right?” 

[hadrian-combe-blog]

"It's kind of hard to ignore them when it's literally all I see...besides you and your partial nudity." Some people had stopped staring, but there were still a lot. She just continued trying not to look at them, but she still managed to see some staring.

She couldn't help but giggle at his statement. "Or turning them off, because they're so repulsed." More people stopped staring and just went on with their daily business, but some still did. She felt a little better, knowing people weren't looking in her direction this time, or at her face.

She sighed. "Believe me, I know this place is a hellhole. I haven't been here long and I already hate it." She tapped her fingers on the table cloth, thinking. Then, she looked up at him and made a face at his statement. "For the..." she said as she fake counted off her fingers, going one, two, "MILLIONTH time, he's not my boyfriend. He laughed at her, and she just made another face, scowling. "And second of all..." She paused, and looked away. "...I don't know where he is." 

[gunnaroverwhill]

He grinned at her, taking a bite of food as he looked her over. “I’m glad you’re OK, Blondie.” He watched as she realised people were staring, shaking his head and laughing as she turned red. His laughter quickly subsided as he watched her rub her back.

“You were out for a while, sweetheart. Can’t blame you though…” He turned to look at the poeple who were still staring, rolling his eyes at the amount of them. He took another bite of his food, looking at Hadrian.

“Seriously, you’d think I was walking around naked.” He said, rolling his eyes and looking over at Hadrian’s nearly full plate. He tilted his head, looking from the plate to her and back again. “You gonna eat that?” He asked, motioning towards her plate of food.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She nodded, still looking away. "Yeah, I'm glad I made it out alive...after being dead." People were still watching, and she still felt embarrassed as ever. She kind of just want to get up and leave, but she knew she couldn't. She sighed, and looked at her plate of food that she never even touched.

"Well, you're almost naked, so I can kinda understand why they're staring." She rolled her eyes at him, and looked again at her food. It was too gross to ingest for now. Or, too gross to ingest at any time of the day. She shook her head and smiled a bit. "No, you can have it." She pushed her plate over to him, making a face at it as she did. She then leaned on her left hand, looking down at the table. She already wanted to get out of here.

[gunnaroverwhill]

For a guy, Gunnar had to admit, he was pretty good at strutting. He did exactly this as he barged into the large room, getting a series of funny looks as he grabbed a plate. The smell of the food didn’t get to him any more, which could only be a good thing. He looked around, waving at a few of the people who gave him funny looks before noticing Sav, sitting alone with a red headed girl who could only be Hadrian. 

He grinned, sauntering over to them, narrowly avoiding a boy at least half his size. He placed his plate down looking at them both and sitting down. “People need to get used to seeing me in my underwear.” He said matter-of-factly, before taking a bite of his food and grinning at them both once more.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She jumped almost a mile out of her seat when she heard a tray come down onto the table. Again, she had moved too fast, and her back hurt again. She leaned against the chair and groaned, trying to get used to the fact that she shouldn't move so fast. She then looked up to see who it was. Gunnar. Who was in fact shirtless.

Eyebrows raised, she watched him as he spoke and ate. She leaned over to check to see if he was really in his underwear, and sure enough, he was. Of course he was. She should have expect nothing less from him. "Nice to see you too, Gunnar."

Her back still ached, so she placed her hand on it and rubbed her back a bit, hoping to help. She truly felt like a grandma. She then noticed all the people staring at them, and she turned away, face bright red. She didn't want them to see her face, so she turned away and looked at a wall. "If ya scare me like that again, I'm gonna break my back."

[saveraprim-blog]

She froze as she asked the question, but then sighed. People would find out anyway; what was the point in being shy about it? She laughed slightly as she spoke. “I, uh, I dance.” She looked at Hadrian, a smirk at her lips. She stayed silent for a moment. “I didn’t ask for that job. In fact, I hate it. But they test you on the things you’re good at and then you basically get given a job.”

She looked at the people around her once again, looking through the crowds to see if there was anybody she recognized; preferably Spens for Hadrian. “I’ve not seen Spens, sorry. But I have seen Gunnar. I was just with him; he’s quite… popular in this place.” She thought back to the Arena for a moment. How long had Savera been in District 13 for? And who else was here who she knew? Her mind seemed to be completely oblivious to the things that were happening in the world, and only seemed to be focused on tearing Savera apart. “How long has Spens been here for?” She asked Hadrian.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She raised an eyebrow at her answer. "Dance? Hmm, wouldn't have expected that out of you. Not that that's a bad thing." She smirked a bit. It felt good to be somewhat happy again, after all the pain and torture in the Arena. "God knows what they'll give me. Probably some boring job."

She looked around once again, just to make sure. No sign of Spens. She looked down at her response, but then smiled a bit at the latter. At least she had seen Gunnar around. She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he is." She thought about what job he could do. Weapons? God knows what that boy could do.

She sighed and looked at the table. "A day or two. He died the day before me." She pursed her lips, still looking at the table. "Well, if you see Spens, tell him I'm dea- here. I'm here." She smiled. "Same for Gunnar." She then looked over at the food that Savera had been eating. It looked like a bunch of goop, and it just generally looked gross. "Is this what they serve every day?"

[saveraprim-blog]

She laughed slightly, still keeping her eyes fixed on the table. It was like a prison. “I feel the same.” She said, voice still quiet, her mind not making sense of anything.  She moved her head to face Hadrian again as she spoke, keeping quiet in thought. She shook her head slightly. She’d never really thought about it since being there; she was just happy that she was alive.

“Maybe it’s to work, I don’t know.” She said, shrugging her shoulders as she pushed her tray over to the other side of the table. She couldn’t stomach any more of that… mess. “We’re all given a job, and then we work. I’ve never really thought about it in all honesty.” She pursed her lips slightly. “Let’s just say that my mind isn’t at its best at the moment.” Her voice became a whisper as she spoke to the red-headed girl.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She nodded as she spoke. Work? She had only worked once in her lifetime, cleaning up a store for little money. She knew they weren't getting paid, though. She'd have to stay here and work until she died. She sighed at the thought. 

She crossed her arms, then laughed a little at her last statement. "I don't think anyone here is, including me." She looked around the room again for reassurance. Everyone looked so sad, so depressed. Some of these people must have been here for years. She didn't get how anyone stayed sane here.

"So...if we all get jobs, what do you do?" Then, for some reason, her mind wandered to Spens. Spens. He was here! She knew he wasn't in this room, though, she would have recognized him by now. She also knew how big this place was, and how that it's impossible just to call someone up and ask how they are. She'd have to actually search for him.

"Oh, uh, also, have you seen Spens around? Or Gunnar?" 

[saveraprim-blog]

Savera had noticed the injuries that Hadrian had, but she didn’t ask her about them. Instead she continued to force down the food, listening to Hadrian as she spoke. After all, Savera had injuries that she didn’t want to talk about, so she wouldn’t force anybody to speak of their own.

After a moment she turned to face Hadrian, her head tilted to one side slightly. Not quite sure about anything here. That’s what she had said. She felt a slight flood of relief rush through her. So I’m not completely insane, she thought to herself. “Well at least I’m not the only one.” She said to Hadrian, smiling reassuringly at her.

She looked around her. Everything seemed so morbid. The dull, grey walls; the drab, grey clothing; the dismal look on everybody’s face. “It’s quite horrible here really.” She spoke quietly, turning her head back to face Hadrian. “It’s dull enough to turn somebody insane.” She said, laughing slightly, but then moving her eyes to stare blankly at the table.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She looked around her surroundings. Honestly, right now she'd rather be in the Arena- with the tall trees and blue sky. Everything here is just so dull and boring. From the looks on the people's faces, they know this, too. She looked back up at Savera as she spoke.

"Yeah, I've been here around ten minutes and I feel like I'm in prison." She chucked a bit, but then looked back down. She was still as confused as ever, as the nurse she had didn't answer any questions. She wanted to know why they were there, and what she had to do. Maybe Savera knew. At least she hoped.

"Do you...do you know why we're here?" She looked back up at her. "Like, why we're not dead, and what we're supposed to do?"

[saveraprim-blog]

She heard the voice from the girl who spoke, but she kept her head faced towards the table. She thought she recognized the voice, but she didn’t look to see who it was. Her mind was everywhere so it could’ve just been playing tricks on her. Digging her fork into her food she began to eat, eyes staring blankly at the table. She swallowed her food just as she heard her name, completely ignoring the vile taste as she whipped her head to the side.

Her confused mind took a moment to figure out exactly who it was. She saw the vibrant red hair first as her mind shot back to the tribute centre. She’d spoken to this girl a lot; she was a friend of Gunnar’s. Her eyes stared in shock at the girl. “Hadrian!” Savera’s voice went quiet, the shock clearly shown in her tone. She continued to stare for a moment, happy to see her of course, but still shocked.

“When did you uh—” She trailed off, not wanting to seem impolite. She smiled softly at the girl in front of her. “It’s great to see you.” She changed her words, hoping that the red-headed girl didn’t think she was being rude. She stayed quiet for a moment, digging her fork into her food once more. “How are you?” She asked, voice quiet once again.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She gave a small smile as the girl recognized her. She wasn't sure if she would, due to her face and everything else. It must have been the hair that gave it away. Her smile turned into a small frown as she knew what the girl was going to ask. As much as she didn't want to talk about it, she knew she would have to, eventually. However, she smiled once again as she changed the subject.

"It's nice to see you too." She thought for a second as she asked another question. She felt like shit, but she didn't want to go into details. Everyone here probably felt miserable, and she's no exception. "Alright, I guess. Could be better." She shrugged, but then groaned again. Some pain shot through her back again. She held her back again, hoping it would stop. She looked at the Savera and smiled. "And, uh, for the question you asked earlier...either earlier today or yesterday, I'm not quite sure about the time." 

She looked back down at the table. She sighed a bit, and then looked at her again. "I'm not quite sure about anything here, really."

[saveraprim-blog]

Savera’s eyes stared down at the food on her tray, a look of disgust lingering on her face. The food - if you could call it that - looked unappetizing, and the thought of having to eat it made her want to puke. She sighed, moving her head to look up at everything around her. Almost all of the seats were taken by people of different ages wearing the same dull clothing. They all morbidly ate their food acting as if nothing was wrong with this place.

Savera shuffled through the crowd of people, keeping her head low as she carefully dodged the mass. Her eyes flicked around, stopping on the only empty seat in sight. She moved towards it making sure not to knock anybody. She sat down quickly, keeping her head down once again.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” She said quietly; a hint of the shy girl from District 12 finally showing.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

The voice that seemed to come out of nowhere startled her at first. She groaned, but then stopped herself, not wanting to be rude. The place was packed, full of people who would probably never give up a seat. She nodded, head still on her arms on the table.

"Yeah, that's fine-" again, she stopped herself. She recognized that voice. She didn't know where she recognized it from, but she knew it. The quietness of the voice was something she knew. She didn't want to lift her head and face her, but she knew she had to, just to check. Maybe that voice is common? No, lift your head. She picked up her head, and looked at the brown-haired girl sitting next to her. Oh boy, she knew this girl alright. Savera.

She stared at her for a few seconds, her green eyes wide with surprise. She forgot that she had died. It was just a few nights ago, along with Vibia. Vibia. She tried to shake the thought of her. Even after those few nights, she still felt bad for the accident. Savera was staring at her, too, so she cleared her throat and tried to speak up.

"Savera?" She said in a whisper, seeming to have lost her voice. 

[hadrian-combe-blog]

The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes yet again was that the room wasn't so bright. 

She swung her feet over the edge, and pulled herself off the bed, carefully and slowly. When she stood up, she wobbled a bit, and almost fell back over onto the bed. She quickly caught herself, and stood up straight. She looked around the tiny room she was in. There was a sink, a mirror, a bed, and a table next to her that held small bottles and a piece of paper. She bent over, and as she got the piece of paper, pain shot through her back. She quickly went back up, groaning and holding her back. She went to look over the note, but the mirror caught her attention. She made her way over the mirror, slowly, but surely.

As she was making her way over, she thought about the white room and the strange men. Was it all a dream? Did it not happen? Was this the actual afterlife? Again, she thought there wasn't supposed to be pain. When she finally looked in the mirror, she realized that that was no dream. It was harsh reality.

A cast was sitting on top of her nose. Memories of Wade stomping on her flooded back. He must have really broken her nose. The thing that caught her the most were the tiny little scars on her face. They were almost everywhere, along with a few marks that looked like pimples. Fire ants. She remembered that, too- the stinging, the biting, the numbness. Now, the scars would remind her of that. Pain shot through her back again, and she held her back again, but felt something strange. It didn't feel like skin. She decided to lift her shirt, and was shocked at what she saw.

Something that looked like a body cast was wrapped around her. She poked it, and it was as hard as a rock. The cutting, the bones breaking. This cast is probably holding her together. She turned around to get a look at her back, and then noticed a big, ugly looking scar near her neck and going down to where the body cast was. The cut. She sighed. She was a mess. To get her mind off things, she finally decided to read the note. It had a stamp of "D13" on the top. She thought that maybe, it would describe what she would do here. But no, it described her surgeries- apparently, she had some fake ribs in her, which were are also a thing- and the meds she had to take. A bottle of some face cream to help with the scars on her face that she had to apply every few hours, and some painkillers. The very end of the note said to go out to the Cafeteria to eat something, since she probably had nothing in her stomach. She sighed, put the note down, and headed to the door, going into the hallway.

She made her way down the hallway, looking around. Everything was grey. Everything looked the same, too- the doors, everything. There were signs pointing to where things were, and the Cafeteria was two floors below her. How far does this go down? She made her way down the steps, and two Peacekeepers were guarding the door. She froze. What was she supposed to say? Before she could open her mouth, one of them nodded, and open the door. Must have recognized her.

The smell of something cooking made her want to puke right there and then. She couldn't eat. She looked around the big space she was in. Lots of people there, all dressed in the same clothing. Some looked at her strangely, but others did not give her the time of day. She looked around for any empty seating, and then noticed a small empty table in a corner. She scurried over there, hiding her face as she did, and sat down. She put her head down, sighing. She hadn't been here for more than five minutes and she already hated it.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

Bright. White. Lights. That's the first thing she noticed when she slowly opened her eyes.

She groaned at the brightness of everything. She tried to move her head, but her head hurt too much. Wait, is this the afterlife? She thought the afterlife would be more...peaceful, with less pain. Eh, maybe not.

"Doc, she's awake."

A voice startled her. She looked up to see a man dressed in scrubs standing over her. Another man, who had just turned around to look at her, was dressed in a white coat. They were both staring at her with wide eyes, like she was some sort of alien that had just crash-landed there. Doc? Is there an afterlife hospital or something? She thought once you got there, you were just healed. She looked at the two men in utter confusion.

"Huh, look at that. She probably shouldn't be awake. I'll go get the syringe." Huh?

She managed to move her head with minimal pain. There was a loud beeping noise she had just noticed, and she groaned. It made her head throb, and she closed her eyes. She knew the man in scrubs was still hovering over her, still probably giving her that strange look. She even tried to move up, but she couldn't. She was being held down. Wait, what?

"Oh, you look confused." The man finally said. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, not being able to speak. "Well, since I don't have time to explain, welcome to District 13. You're not really dead." What?

She looked at him like he had ten heads. She remembered dying, brutally and painfully at the hands of Wade. She did die, right? Yeah, she did. How can she be alive? Was this some sort of afterlife joke? She was still looking at the man, and he chuckled.

"I don't have time to explain everything, but you were brought back to life. I don't know how, some Capitol trick. Someone will explain later. Right now, you need to rest." She didn't want to rest. She wanted to ask questions, but she couldn't even speak. She was in disbelief that she didn't really die. And then, the man in the white coat came back in, syringe in hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of it, and before she could try to object, the needle was plunged into her arm. Almost immediately, her eyes began to drop, and she felt her body relax. And then, everything went dark, with many questions still unanswered.

[itswadey-bitch-blog]

She was a fucking psycho.

Conducting steel like she had been born for it, painting over dark tones of cloth and replacing it with the deep red color of blood that had time to slowly pool underneath the battered Career. Underneath the muscle and the skin was the work of syringe-administered drugs that had affected the blonde’s system, dulling his sense of touch— but the intensity of the pain that had splayed across his side was enough to break through the layers and layers of ice and bring him toward the sun to thaw. Wade felt alive for once, not like just another man trying to find his humanity in the heat of writhing bodies and sloppy kisses. There was really no other way to repay the redheaded coward than to painstakingly wrench himself off the ground with a ghost of a smile on his face, tainted by a thin trail of blood which dotted the tan tones of his skin. Nothing but a dull pain in his wrists, along the lines of his limbs as he extended his arm and tangled his fingers in scarlet locks, throwing their owner back into one of the large barks that were peppered about this artificial world. 

“Y’lil shit, talkin’ all big when ya aren’t anythin’ more than a scared little girl who thinks way too much of herself.” Mumbled the aquakin past a lower lip which threatened to swell and impediment his speech. “All talk ya are.” And here was the kicker: spinning her around onto her face which was once again pressed to the tree which housed several fire ants, making sure to shove the hilt of his blade into the hollow to awaken the red-tinted insects. Little soldiers with their feet in perfect sync had moved to conquer this porcelain-skinned alien, venturing into every sink and hole that was available. Sliding off the hardened leather which kept his trousers at bay, Wade ran them over the girl’s wrists and locked them into place at the other side of the bark, forcing her to dig her nose in deep amongst the ants. Retrieving the extension of his person and fondly working it between his fingers, eyebrows lift as he surveyed before him the slab of marble which was just dying to be formed and molded into perfection that would transcend time and the constant movement of beauty. Slicing through the protective fabric was he now, carefully stripping away the layers and leaving the top half of her clothing pooled underneath her— dull against the lush surrounding growth of green. Blade slowly sinking into her milky skin, arousing the overpour of blood to ooze from her as he continued on southward, stopping only when he found that the cut was brilliant enough.

A sigh escaped perfectly formed lips as the assailant had bent over to gather the wayward cloth in his hands, ripping it into two before wrapping them around tired digits to protect them from the gore they were about to subject themselves into handling. Mangling the chords of life was he, the death-cry of birds above mixing in with the blank slate his mind had become as bone snapped after bone, screeches filling in the spaces where remorse should’ve been. Even Death himself wouldn’t have gone into the details as sacks of air were pierced and mangled, blood dripping down Hadrian’s back in perfectly aimed chutes, expanding over her frayed coat and blooming into bloody wings which extended over the edges of ribs and mixing back into the earth.

She might’ve been a fucking psycho— but he had given her the gift Icarus had once craved for. Oh, how kind it was of him to allow his bloodstained angel to spread her wings and return to the motherland.

[hadrian-combe-blog]

She should have known better than to underestimate a Career quite like Wade.

Before she knew it, she felt something tangling in her hair. She should have moved then, but she was too much in pain to even move forward. She felt herself be thrown against the ground, hitting the bark. She felt something move on her face, and then her eyes focused. Fire ants. Oh no. She heard something being said, but she couldn't even register it. Everything hurt, some places more than others, like her face. Others were just numb, like her hands. Again, she felt something go through her wrists, and she groaned. There was no escaping this now. She was going to die, and she knew it wasn't going to be quick.

She felt the ants bite and sting everywhere, at almost every cut and all over her face. She couldn't even cry out in pain, in fear that even a fire ant would crawl into her mouth. Then, she felt a cold blade against her skin. It cut deep into her back, and she closed her eyes and grit her teeth as it went further and further. Now, everything truly hurt- from the fire ants still attacking her to the blade which had now stopped. This can't be it. He's going to do something. And then, she felt her own bone crack.

Searing pain shot through her, as the Career cracked and broke her ribs and God knows what else. She had broken a bone before, but this was much different. She had no idea what he was doing, but it still hurt. Her face was starting to become numb, but the pain in her back made up for it. He was still hacking away at her, when it all stopped. He's done. I'm going to die.

Breaths became shorter and harder to come by, and everything in her vision blurred. She was becoming numb, the pain fading out of her body. If I die like this, numb, then I guess it won't be so bad. She knew it was going to be any second now. She thought of her family. She prayed that somehow, they wouldn't have to watch. She knew better, however. Maybe her parents got her siblings away from the TV. The last thing she wanted was for her siblings to see the bloody mess their sister had become. She couldn't even see at this point, but her mind was still racing.

The last thing she thought before her body gave out was how funny this must to be to Capitol folk, the red-head girl dying a very red death. And then, she took her last breath. The cannon fired, and it was all over.

For now. 

[noothing-else-matters]

[itswadey-bitch-blog]

Blows landed in a scattered pattern over the lower portion of his body, but the pain refused to make any imprint on his brain’s sheet of recognition. She was fighting, pulling every single light from within her and throwing it back out at him; a noble effort. Chuckle piled up upon chuckle shook the surface, attempting to mask an inevitable fear which plastered itself all over the redhead’s face, her eyes incapable of hiding any thought from the trained eyes of a cold-blooded killer. A laugh bounced off the surface of the trees which dotted the ground around the two Tributes to accompany the crush of the underside of worn combat boots pressing against Hadrian’s face, flattening the slope of her nose with an easy press. “Panem fucking loves th’damaged goods. Don’t think they’d wanna make me all normal just ‘cause I’d start stirring up a shitstorm, am I right?” Blonde hair which obfuscated angelic blues were pushed out of the way before he jammed his heel into her neck, peeling the weight of leather off his female counterpart before burying his fingers into her top and lifting her as easily as he had in the past, a slender figure now slumped against the tree. It was but a fallacy that Wade would express even an inkling of contrition when it came to the sins he had committed against his fellow man, and this was obvious enough when he leaned in to get up close and personal to his prey, the intonation in his English becoming more condescending as he pronounced each crisp syllable.

“Say hey t’ya boyfriend fer me, will ya?” With that, he turned her into the bark of the tree once more, unsheathing blades in either hand as he jammed elbows against her shoulders, preparing for something which seemed to become his trademark. Outstretching weakening limbs against the bark, he drove a cold blade into either one of her hands, anchoring her to the century-old tree as he retrieved one of Hadrian’s own weapons and stepped back to admire his work for a fleeting moment.

Blood rushing to his head, it was now appropriate to say the blonde was marching to the beat of his own drum, an uncontrollable throbbing overriding his senses as he clumsily wove a cold stake through his fingers and traced it down the struggling mess that Hadrian had been reduced to’s back. Over the spine— if he dipped in here, who knew what kind of damage it would do to her? It was a shame that once this was over, there would be no more suffering for the deceased Tributes. Clearing his mind for the final time, Wade had tilted his head to get a good look at the redhead’s clear lack for any sort of junk in the trunk for the last time before he’d strip her will to fight back as well as her life off the face of Panem and all its artificial inhabitants.  

[hadrian-combe-blog]

Blood was pretty much everywhere. It was dripping from her nose and from cuts all over her face. She couldn't even think straight, and didn't even hear the words he was saying. All she felt was his boot jab into her neck, and it hurt worse than her nose possibly breaking. She groaned a bit, praying that if he broke her neck, he'd make it quick. "Say hey t’ya boyfriend fer me, will ya?” Before she could get angry, she was lifted, still fighting back, and pushed against the surface of the tree, head buried in bark. 

The pain was starting to get unbearable at this point. Everywhere hurt- her face, her back, her limbs, everything. She knew Wade wouldn't stop there. Elbows jabbed into her shoulders made it worse. Then, the worst part came- knives driven into her hands. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes, trying to bear the pain. He wasn't doing anything at this point. She lifted her head and tried to yank away from her left hand, but it hurt too bad and she could barely move her fingers. She then looked at her right hand and noticed something. The knife wasn't as deep into the tree, and she could move her fingers more. If she could yank it out, it would cause immense pain, but maybe, she could fight back. She felt something cold and sharp go down her spine, and knew she had to at least try. Summing up all the energy and adrenaline she had left, she managed to kick Wade in the spot where the sun don't shine, and she heard him be brought aback. Yanking several times, she managed to pull out from the tree with her right hand, and then the left.

She looked at her hands. The knives were driven deep, and she had pretty much no feeling in her left hand. Her right hand had some feeling, at least some pain, so she had to use her time wisely. To get it over with as quick and painless as possible, she yanked the knives out of her hands, yelling out in pain as she did so. She looked over at the blonde tribute, who was just getting up. She went over and stomped on his wrist to get whatever weapon was in his hands out of them, grabbed a knife from his belt, and went to work. She knelt on him, crushing his stomach, and sliced away at different parts of his body with her somewhat-good hand. Stomach, arms, legs, even cheeks. Some cuts were shallow to cause enough stick, others were deep to cause more pain. The feeling in her right hand was fading, and she knew she had to do this fast. As she made an x on his stomach like she did to his back, she grabbed the collar of his jacket and brought his face centimeters away from her face. What a sight her blood-stained smile must have been.

"Look, Wade, you can say as much shit as you want about me, calling me a surfboard and what not with that stupid accent of yours. When it comes to Spens, though, you don't get away so easily. He was more of a man than you will ever be." She slammed him back down into the ground, and got off of him. For added measure and just pure pleasure, she kicked his side as hard she could and chuckled and then tried to hobble away, hoping that maybe, he'd just bleed to death.

[itswadey-bitch-blog]

Shallow cuts and stinging pain had ruled the airwaves of his conscious, only knocking the seaborn from his pedestal for a fraction of a second before unseen power had wrapped its long limbs around his limp being and breathed life back into it. Red— the color of life and passion and the main identifier that the wraith of a girl had held so close to herself, perhaps even without truly meaning to. Wrenching the first knife from the aged bark of a tree— an interesting observation as the Arenas were supposedly built just for the Games— Wade had used that regular lull in movement and turned it into a crucial window to get his first stroke in, a burst of red to match Hadrian’s hair blooming from the tip of his silver paintbrush, kissing pale, pale skin and looking all the more brilliant as newly oxygenated blood slowly formed patterns, meeting and separating at various crooks. The musings of a Career were quite predictable: a quiet degradation for anything that wasn’t done in Career fashion, an air of arrogance dense enough to seep into one’s nostrils and pick at their brain; for, they truly believed they were better than everyone else. Reaching out to entrap a slim wrist in a tight grip and twist it into a position that was a little more that just a tad uncomfortable, Wade pressed a cold blade onto her throat, gently drawing blood while making sure not to sever any particularly important passages. Chapped lips brushed over the delicate lining of her ear, breath caressing the shell as it picked up his low, District-Four accented tones.

“Big Bad Wolf’s got ya now, don’t he? S’too bad everyone at home’s gonna see little Red torn to pieces in excruciating detail, don’tcha think so? Make sure t’scream all pretty for ‘em.”

Grip tightening until pops resonated between the two Tributes, heart rate kicking up several notches as the invisible heat of the world pressed around them, voices already cheering the male on as he could pretty much already taste glory. Hadrian’s face pressed against the rough surface of a tree, Wade brought his knee up into her back repeatedly, the force of his movement unceasing with the way he slammed her pretty little face into a hardened surface. Several windows of his own had been opened with the reckless movements that the man had poured in one after another, but things so minute didn’t matter to him; there would be death within the next few minutes, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be him. The weight of the world condensed itself into a blade which hung off his belt, remembering the beautiful display that a certain blonde had posed even in death— once again reminding him why it was that he could never give up. Not here, not now, not ever.  

[hadrian-combe-blog]

All too quickly, she was down on the soft grass of the Arena floor, staring up into the blue eyes of the tribute on her. She had failed in trying to kill him there; her follow-up never fell through. Now, he's got her in a tight grip, and it'll be a miracle if she can get out this. She felt the cold blade go into just barely touch her throat, and the sting of the cut that followed. It didn't phase her that much, though; it already happened once before. She didn't flinch. While he was taunting her, as usual, she just stared at him with a death glare on her face, not even wincing. If she was going to die, she wanted to die in a honorable way, not a cowardly way.

And then, she was flipped over, facing a tree. She felt something crashing into her back, causing intense pain. What was he going to do? Break my back? Of course he does something outlandish, he isn't the type to just slit your throat and move on. All the while, her face was being slammed against the tree, harder and harder each time. She felt blood coming from somewhere, most likely her nose. She didn't have time to register the pain in her nose, due to the fact her face was repeatedly being slammed against the tree. It was most likely broken. Even while he was kneeing her, she managed to thrash about, trying as hard as she could to kick him as hard as she could, to at least leave a bruise. She felt her foot kick him hard at some points, but eventually she got weaker and weaker, and had to endure the pain being sent straight into her back. Just for a few quick seconds, he stopped. She didn't know what he was going to do, but she might as well take these few seconds to do something. She was too weak to get up, but she still had some fight in her, even though it was more words than physical.

Spitting out some blood, she chuckled a bit. "Who would have known the big, bad Hunger Games would have broken you down, Four. If you win this thing, have fun at the looney bin back home, because that's probably where you're heading. Also, hope the meds help with the crazy." Again, she chuckled. She knew this would probably either make him more mad or just not affect him at all, but she might as well try.