pairing: Marina Mabrey x Saniya Rivers
Fandom: WNBA (Connecticut Sun)
Content warnings: Vulgar language, graphic descriptions of blood, self. harm (trigger warnings are given)
A/N: shout out to the gang :p part 2 soon trust
taglist: @marrymekatemartin, @wbbszn
dividers by @enchanthings-a, masterlist here
Marina knew she was different when her parents gave her a dagger for a birthday present when she was 12.
She’d woken up on that Saturday with a headache angrier than she’d ever been and a new urge for something under her skin.
She’d gone through the motions of her birthday on autopilot, limbs moving on their own accord.
She smiled when she had to, laughed when her friends did, squealed at presents even if she hated them.
And at the end of the night, when everyone had left the house, her parents sat her down. Mikey lingered—near enough to listen, far enough to detach.
“One last gift.” Her mom held out a small, folded cloth, placing it in Marina’s hand. As she unfolded it, a glint of silver stared back at her until a full dagger sat on her palm.
If not for her confusion, she’d admit: the dagger was stunning. It glimmered under the warm lights, the handle carved with intricate patterns.
She looked up at her parents, then at Michaela, then back at the dagger.
“You’ll understand tomorrow. Or maybe tonight. The Voices show up eventually.” Her mom said almost formally, and Michaela’s head was bowed where she stood.
“Voices…? What?” She glanced around the room helplessly. The candles above the fireplace seemed to flicker, growing brighter and—for just a second—burning a bloody shade of red.
“Don’t worry about it now. Just…if you hear anything, you come to us, alright? Or you can go to Mikey.” Michaela snapped up at the mention of her name, face solemn in a way Marina had never seen. She shot Marina a look of pity.
Even though she was scared, Marina was nothing if not an obedient kid. She nodded firmly.
Unfortunately, being obedient also came with people pleasing tendencies. Strong ones.
Marina dreamed that night. A normal dream—it was the fourth of July, and they were celebrating, and the fireworks were so pretty.
And then, slowly, eyes were etched into the sky. They were carved into the abyss as the fireworks disappeared, messy bright red lines forming eyes.
Then, they spoke. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
“You know you’re one of us,” One voice said above all the others. The rest held a steady, messy whisper of blood. “You can run all you want, little one, but you can’t escape us.”
“We’re all you can trust,” A second voice continued, “everyone else is lying to you. You should leave them all behind. They’ll never be as strong as you, little wolf.”
When Marina found herself gasping awake at 2am, with those voices from her dream that didn’t belong to her hissing for blood in her mind, she didn’t wake anyone up.
Or, well, she didn’t try to.
Mikey, with her older sister sixth sense, heard the creaking and thrashing from her end of the room, jumping up immediately and muttering a curse under her breath.
The Voices were growing louder by the time Michaela found her, and Marina, in a desperate attempt to silence them, pressed her palms over her ears, rocking back and forth.
“Rina.” A hand, Mikey’s—Marina knew that voice—pressed against Marina’s shoulder firmly. It was hard to hear her sister over the cacophony of voices, each one screeching out different words.
There was one common thread, though. Blood. They spoke too fast, all demanding something she didn’t know how to give.
“Rina, I know they’re loud, but you need to listen. Please. If you shake any harder, Dara will wake up.” Michaela was begging now, gripping Marina’s shoulder tighter.
Dara’s name was enough to slow the voices. Not silence them—she wasn’t sure that was physically possible—but it ceased into an easier version, demanding with less ferocity.
“Dara…” Marina whispered, glancing over at the bed next to hers. Her younger sister, not even 8, slept soundly. She then looked at Michaela, who’d taken a seat in front of her with a look of understanding and pity.
And Marina shattered. Her breaths came out short, gasping for air through bouts of tears. Michaela just rubbed her shoulder gently.
“I know. I know, Rina.” She soothed quietly.
“What was that…?” Marina watched her sister carefully. For the first time in her life, she felt truly helpless.
“The Voices. I hear them too. Mom will explain more in the morning, but…” Michaela fumbled over her words, trying to explain without scaring her already terrified younger sister.
“it’s some sort of generational curse. Some lady a few hundred years ago pissed The Blood God off, and now we’re stuck as his…servants isn’t the right word, but it's about as right as it’ll get.” Michaela grimaced, pulling her hand back.
“Blood God…Technoblade?” Marina looked up, alarmed. “I thought those were just myths. Stories Mom told us to scare us.”
“Hm. Doesn’t feel like a myth when they’re yelling at you, does it?” Michaela checked the small digital clock on Marina’s bedside table. 2.13 a.m. She sighed.
“Fuck it.” Marina frowned as Michaela got up."
“Don’t curse. And where're you going?” She shot up, following Michaela out of their room.
“You got your dagger?” Marina’s frown only deepened.
“I hid it in my closet, just like Mom told me to. Why?”
“Go grab it. I’ll let Mom know.”
“Know what—Mikey, where are we going?” Marina was frustrated now, confusion meddling with her senses. The Voices were growing louder—soft enough that they could be ignored, but loud enough that it made it hard to do so.
“Well, if I’m right—and I usually am—they’re getting louder. And they won’t shut up until they get blood. Hurry up, Rina, and go get your dagger.” Mikey said impatiently, not waiting for an answer before disappearing into their parents’ room.
Marina huffed but disappeared into her room to grab the dagger. Due to the sound of the door opening and closing repeatedly, Dara stirred slightly in her bed while Marina rustled through her closet.
“Ri…?” Marina froze, quickly whipping around.
“Go back to bed. It’s really late.” Marina whispered with what she hoped sounded like reassurance. Dara, clearly still half asleep, didn’t fight it, turning onto her side. Marina exhaled before scurrying out.
Michaela was already waiting for her by the back door, her own dagger unsheathed and in her hand. Compared to Marina, who still held her dagger with caution, Michaela was toying with hers, changing the grip every two seconds without even looking at it.
“Oh, good, you’re here. Let’s go.” Marina blinked, glancing down at the dagger in her hand, blade still wrapped safely in its cloth. She unravelled it carefully the way she’d done just hours ago, shoving the soft handkerchief into her pocket.
She looked up at Michaela, who nodded firmly. She exhaled, steeling her nerves as best she could.
“The backyard was your grand plan?” Marina asked, confused. They were standing under dark skies that felt like they were sitting on Marina’s shoulders, a weight that refused to let go. Here, under the storm of the night, she felt The Voices shift to grow louder, hisses turning into snarls.
“Just follow me.” Michaela muttered, trudging right to the end of their backyard and to the clearing of trees that Marina was definitely not allowed to enter.
“Mikey, you know we aren’t supposed to—” She shut up quickly when Michaela turned to face her. The elder’s eyes glowed a bright red, a storm of blood in her irises. Marina wondered briefly if her eyes looked that way. She decided she didn’t want to know.
“Rina, please. Stop, alright? I know this is all really scary, but if you keep wasting time they will get louder. I don’t want your first time dealing with them to be…that.” The tremor in Mikey’s voice was enough to keep her quiet.
They stepped into the forest, shadows shifting to make room for them. She heard the faint crunch of a bug beneath her sneaker, and The Voices seemed to stall for just a second before continuing their spiel. Marina swore it was just a little softer.
She felt the soil shift beneath her momentarily. When she looked down, there was something shifting beneath the soil.
“You feel that? The way they stopped for a moment?” Michaela whispered. “That’s how it works. You give enough and they calm. And the bug is small enough that you don’t have to do the whole ritual bit. I’ll explain that later.”
“Mikey…” Marina’s voice was small, weak. Nothing compared to the basketball player who defeated even the strongest of schools. “You’ve been dealing with this for 2 years?”
Michaela froze for a millisecond before softening, offering a weary smile.
“You learn to deal with it. After a while, they become a part of you, like it or not.” There was a strain in Michaela’s voice, like she was fighting something inside.
“C’mon, we need to hurry.”
Marina’s first kill was easy.
Michaela caught a rabbit, grabbing a metal stick from her pocket an pressing it to the back of the rabbit’s neck before presenting it to Marina with its back facing towards the sky.
“Cut it, here and here.” Marina watched where Michaela’s finger had traced a line across the back of its neck, and how the brown fur moved with Michaela’s finger. She stared at the rabbit, now unconscious, and wondered how she’d survive doing this for the rest of her life.
Unfortunately for her, she hated disobeying instructions, so she sliced its little neck. The process was messy, jagged. Her dagger got caught, and her hand started to shake, and Michaela had to guide her the rest of the way, but it was dying.
The rabbit’s blood spurted out, dripping down its fur and painting it red.
Marina felt her chest flutter, and she fought back an urge to touch the blood and watch it drip down her finger and back onto its fur.
“Good job. You’re gonna be just fine.” Michaela placed the rabbit on the ground, its body so small next to trees and them.
“You have to bury it, and then say a prayer to Technoblade. It’ll glow when it starts. When it stops glowing, you’ll know it’s done.” Michaela explained, kneeling in the soil and gesturing for Marina to do the same. Marina tucked her legs neatly underneath herself, shins kissing the dirt.
“What do I say in the prayer?” Marina dug through the soil with her bare hands, grimacing at the texture.
“Whatever you want, I guess. I do it so often that it’s usually just…hi, here’s an offering.” Marina snorted.
“You say hi to The Blood God?”
“Yeah, well, how else do I greet him?”
“…Fair enough.” Marina conceded. The hole was finally big enough to put the rabbit inside. The corpse was still warm, blood still trickling from the wound and coating its fur.
“You should probably be a little more formal, since it’s your first.” Michaela suggested.
“Yeah, I got it.” Marina dumped the small pile of dirt back over the rabbit, patting it flat before clasping her together awkwardly. She’d never really prayed outside of a temple before.
She chose to play it safe and recited a prayer she’d memorised as a kid, one that spoke of The Blood God’s strength and wisdom. Then, before closing off the prayer, she decided she should probably add something else so he didn't think it was just another prayer.
“I give this offering to you in hopes of gaining solace and your favour.” She murmured softly. As the last syllable spilled from her lips, the gaps in the soil started to glow red, shining the way it would in a horror movie.
Then, the light turned into blood, drowning the soil and covering Marina’s knees. She gasped, but Michaela moved to place her hand on Marina’s shoulder.
“Don’t move. It’s not gonna hurt you. Wait for the blood to disappear. It’s not over until then.” Michaela whispered, before quickly stepping back so she wouldn’t get affected by the blood.
Marina’s hands shook, but she didn’t move to get up. She kept her body as still as she possibly could, feeling the blood curl around her legs, crawling up her knee and onto her thigh. The soil beneath her shins was shifting with the blood, curling in spirals like a hurricane.
It felt weirdly comforting.
The blood retreated into the soil, the top layer drying like nothing had happened. The swirls of blood on her legs left no trace. Shakily, Marina unclasped her hands, steadying herself before standing up.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you about that. It’s really freaky at first. It’s worse with bigger animals, too—it’ll glow so bright you have to look away, and the blood’ll go up your arms and sometimes even your neck.” Michaela sighed.
“’S fine.” Marina mumbled, too busy trying not to freak out to care.
“But aren’t they quieter now?” Michaela asked with the gentleness of a mother talking to her child. Marina focused on the bloodthirsty voices for just a second, and Michaela was right.
They weren’t gone—which was to be expected—but they weren’t demanding anymore. Their cries for blood sounded more like a faint echo, a plea.
“Yeah.” Marina looked up at her older sister.
“Told ya. C’mon, I gotta find another rabbit to kill. Mine aren’t exactly tame right now.” Michaela continued her way through the forest, and Marina just followed along.
Michaela looked far more calm after killing two rabbits.
As they walked on through the forest, Marina peeked a glance at the digital watch—now stained with rabbit blood—on her wrist, squinting to see the numbers.
“What time do we need to be home?” Michaela glanced over to Marina.
“Hmm…Dar usually wakes up the earliest, and she’s usually up at 8, so…7? Enough time to shower and sneak into bed so she doesn’t suspect anything.” Michaela proposed.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Marina hummed, lost in thought.
“Mikey…” Her older sister looked down. “Does Mom still hear them?”
Michaela looked at her younger sister, her small, scared eyes and how much light was still buried in them. She wondered why she had to be the one to blow out the fire in her heart.
“Sometimes. It gets less…prominent, when you’re older. Eventually it stops. Mom doesn't hear them constantly like we do, but when she does, it’s really bad. I don’t dare to go hunt with her when she’s like that.”
“What was that thing you used to stun it before killing it?” Michaela lifted the metal stick up.
“This?” Marina nodded. “It’s called a captive bolt. It stuns the rabbit so it doesn’t feel it when you kill it.” Marina nodded slowly.
“Why do we have The Voices, anyways?” Michaela froze for a second.
“You know how The Voices work?” Marina nodded.
“Yeah. Technoblade had them first, right?”
“Mhm. He wasn’t even born a god. But because of The Voices, he killed a lot of people.” Marina nodded again. She knew the story of Technoblade like it was her own mind. How he’d destroy entire villages with a sword that gleamed with glory before walking off like he hadn’t even been there.
“The people were so terrified they started to worship him. Don’t ask me how that works. Fear is, apparently, a great motivator.”
“Yeah, and then he became a god, ‘cause belief fuels immortality.” Marina finished impatiently.
“Exactly.” Michaela said. “And then he…well, retired, I guess. Settled down, started living with Philza, the God of Peace and Angel of Death.”
“You’re still not explaining why we have voices.”
“I’m getting there. Some lady, thousands of years ago, pissed him off really badly. She stole from Tommy—one of Philza’s kids—who Technoblade saw as a younger brother.”
“And then he cursed her.”
“And then he cursed her.” Michaela agreed with a sigh.
“Are a generational curse that can’t be broken, as far as we know. Terrific, huh?”
Then, after another long stretch of silence:
“Promise not to tell Mom if I swear?”
”That’s really fucked up.” Michaela didn’t disagree, just sighing.
When they eventually went back home, the sun was starting to rise. It was just barely 6 a.m, and the house was still asleep. Michaela’s eyes didn’t glow red anymore, returning to their original hazel hue.
“You can shower in Mom’s room, and I’ll go to our bathroom.” Marina nodded, already grabbing clothes. Just as she moved to leave the room, Michaela called out once more.
“And Rina?” Marina turned, tilting her head with a silent question.
“Pass me your dagger. I’ll clean it for you first.” Michaela extended a hand out, waiting.
“I…yeah. Okay.” Marina fumbled with the dagger, handing it over before walking off.
Marina took half an hour to shower, a stark contrast to her usual 10 minute ones. She scrubbed at her skin until it was raw. She made the water scalding hot and let her skin burn. She let her nails scrape her body until everything hurt, and then she started all over again.
She repeated the steps thrice. Nails digging into every inch of her skin, soap bottles all half empty, until the current of disgust slowed to a stop and settled in her bones.
Then, she snuck back into her room quietly, tucking herself in like she didn’t feel like vomiting each time she closed her eyes. Like she didn’t see the rabbit’s twitching nose and
When she next “woke up”, it was at the hands of her mother, who shook her awake gently. Marina just turned on her side, blankly staring up at her mom.
“C’mon, Ri. Got things to do today.” Her mom’s expression was grim, filled with a dread that had already embedded itself into her skin.
“’M up.” Marina mumbled, hauling herself up. Her mom left the room.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she stood there for a minute and stared at herself. If she looked carefully, she saw a faint sheen of red under brown irises, like red hair dyed black. Faintly, eye bags started to form, and her skin felt older, more unkind to every move she made.
She stared at herself and, for someone who was constantly told she was mature for her age, this was the first time she really felt it.
When she made it to the dining table, it was just her mother and Michaela. Her older sister looked just as if not more tired, but she smiled anyways, a warm, inviting smile.
“Hi Ri. Sit, Mom’s almost done making your food.” Marina nodded, not really paying attention as she sat next to her sister.
“You feelin’ alright?” Michaela asked quietly between a bite of toast.
”Not really.” was what she wanted to say.
“Fine.” Is what came out instead. But her sister was still her sister, and Michaela could still see through it.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Michaela said quietly, and Marina exhaled—deep, long, and utterly destroyed.
“Mhm.” She didn’t tell them what was so overwhelming. She let them assume whatever they wanted to.
Her mom stepped out of the kitchen just then, a plate of toast and eggs in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.
“Eat. Dad took Ry and Dar out, so we can talk.” Their mother settled in a seat across both of them. She sat there for a little while, just letting them eat and settle. Then, when the last bites of food were gone, she finally spoke again.
So Marina repeated everything back to her mom, looking to Mikey for reassurance every once in a while. Her older sister nodded encouragingly, giving her hand a small squeeze. When she finished, her mom nodded.
“Good. That’s mostly background stuff. Won’t really help you with much of the bloody bits, though. You got anything you wanna know?”
“How often do I need to…?”
“Around every three weeks, or every month. It’s more likely to be three for now, but the less people there are, the higher the demand. But it also largely depends on how you feel.” Mom explained.
“What if I’m somewhere where I can’t hunt?” Her mom tilted her head.
“Well. that’s not really a big issue. Usually animals are easy to find. If you know you’re going somewhere that is sparse of animals or where hunting animals is illegal, you can ask Technoblade for a temporary pause. The Voices will hold off for as long as you need them to. They aren’t, like, evil.” Michaela nodded in agreement.
“I dunno, I think demanding blood is inherently evil, but alright.” Marina shrugged.
Oh! And They can say more than just bloodthirsty stuff. Try and say hi to them!” Michaela suggested, eyes gleaming.
“What?” Marina asked, incredulous. “I—Fine.”
Hi, I guess? Wow, she really was going crazy.
The Voices all halted for a second before replying with a messy chorus of hi’s and hello’s.
“That’s…” Marina trailed off.
“Cool, huh?” Michaela grinned. “Even Mom didn’t do know that. I figured it out myself.”
”Disturbing,” Marina corrected, “And how did you figure that out?”
“Well, when we went shoe shopping, like 2 years back, I couldn’t decide which pair of shoes I wanted, and they helped me out!” Michaela chirped. She was oddly perky about being generationally cursed to be a glorified killing machine.
“That’s a terrifying thought.” Marina decided.
”Anyways,” Her mom interrupted, “the point is they’re here to stay. Might as well get used to them.”
Marina wasn’t sure when this started.
She knew the basic stuff—the day she’d accidentally cut her finger using a kitchen knife, and how they grew quieter when her blood dripped. She could breathe a little deeper.
She just didn’t know when it became an addiction, when she started using her dagger to slice lines across her stomach. Each time, Technoblade—thank him—would heal the cuts into neat scars for her.
All she knows is The Voices had never been quieter.
She still hunted—rabbits, deers, goats. It was more performative than anything, she only actually killed if she was hunting with Michaela or Dara, and the blood was usually not even close to enough to keep her sane. Otherwise, she’d disappear into the forest and let her own blood drip into soil.
Michaela and Dara were none the wiser. Michaela still hunted with the same level of grimness, and Dara still needed Marina or Michaela to help catch the animals.
She’d learned to operate like a machine. She’d leave the house at exactly 1 a.m, disappear into the forest for 2 hours, slice her skin open carefully, finish up the ritual, walk back home, bathe, and go back to sleep.
In and out, like she never left.
She still said yes when her mom asked if she’d done her offerings. She wasn’t lying—she was doing her offerings. Just not the way she thought.
After one particularly shitty game—a 40 point blow out that could’ve been stopped if she’d just focused, Marina decided to do offerings a little earlier than she was supposed to.
“Jus’…really loud.” She explained to her mom, the words muttered as she dropped her bag on the ground. It wasn’t actually a lie—The Voices were screaming at her the whole game to try harder, to go for their blood. They had different priorities.
“Alright. Don’t forget the captive bolt, whistle and pepper spray.”
“I’ve been doing this for 4 years, Mom. If I were to forget, it probably would’ve happened already.”
“Just keeping you safe.” Marina just gave her a thumbs up and walked off to her room silently.
So, at midnight, Marina trudged out into the forest. The Voices were no longer feeding off her game day adrenaline, but their persistent hiss hadn’t let up.
Only it’d taken its own creative liberties.
Pathetic, useless, lazy, one decided, voice sharper than a snake’s teeth.
Sloppy, another agreed, disappointment cutting deeper than her dagger.
“Shut up.” She muttered, cutting off an overgrown weed.
You were not hungry for blood. That’s why you lost, A third voice added to the group, and Marina halted when the previous two voiced their agreement. Dozens of other voices hissed similar things at lower volumes, demands for blood fading into degrading words.
“Go away. I’ll find you a deer or something.” Marina bit back.
No, all the voices—the previous three and then the others, all screamed in unison.
You know what we want, the first one insisted.
Marina stared at the ground, studying each grain of dirt, clumped together with dew and rain.
“Fine.” Marina huffed, kneeling down in the dirt.
TRIGGER WARNING: FAIRLY DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF-HARM. PLEASE DO NOT REPLICATE ANY OF THE ACTIVITIES BELOW.
Carefully, she rolled her shirt up, using an extra hair tie to tie the leftover fabric up into a ball. She grabbed her dagger from its leather sheath—her 13th birthday gift—inhaled, leaned forward so the blood would drip onto the dirt, and let the dagger do the writing.
Like an injection, she exhaled slowly as the dagger glided across jagged skin. She didn’t wince at the open wound, didn’t flinch when the skin split open at spurts of red formed a waterfall and spilled on the dirt. A few drops hit her knees—irrelevant, really—as she started to murmur the prayer.
“Lord Techo, accept this offering as thanks for shielding me and my family from external harm. Bless the blood that flows through my veins so it is to your standards when I return it to you. Thank you.” Marina finished her prayer when the dirt began to glow red.
The glow solidified into a blood-like consistency, climbing up her leg and to the wound on her stomach, meaning to close it, but Marina wasn’t satisfied yet. She exhaled shakily, the blood calming her and angering her all at once.
She was still mad at herself too, after all. She hadn’t repaid what was owed.
The dagger, still in her hand and now coated with a layer of dirt, reached up to cut deeper. The Voices went quiet for a second before murmuring confusion.
Enough, one of them—the strongest one, the one who always spoke up first—said firmly.
“No.” Marina gritted out. “This is needed. I fucked up. I deserve it.”
This is ridiculous, child. Stop it. You’ll die, a second voice, even more insistent and harsher than the first, chimed in.
We wanted blood, a third said, not die.
“Shut up. You know nothing.” She pressed the dagger deeper in, and the hand that was holding her up buckled, wrist twisting painfully.
We are older than time itself, they spoke as one now, a familiar collection of voices, We know more, and will always know more, than you.
“Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Marina screeched, and the sudden sound made her hand jerk, and drove the dagger in further. Blood was falling faster now, pouring onto her hand, the dirt, and any surface it could reach. The ground was painted with blood, an angry pool forming faster than it could soak into the dirt.
This time, The Voices weren’t what stopped her.
The tendrils of red that usually ran over the wound to heal it grabbed her arm and forced the dagger to fall.
Then, his voice cut through over the rest.
Enough, child. Distantly, she felt her blood stop dripping. That familiar cold tentacle-shaped liquid disappeared and was replaced by a warm hand. Her vision grew blurry, and she fell onto her forearm.
Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back with a small grunt that wasn’t hers. When she looked up, through hazy eyes, she saw a pig mask that covered his eyes and nose with two fake tusks sticking out, a glimpse of gold, and a large red coat with pristine white fur, a gold chain keeping it from falling off his shoulders.
Beneath the coat, he wore a white button down that was tucked into a pair of black pants and ending with combat boots that squelched in the dirt. An emerald earring dangled from his ear, the green stone almost black in the darkness. A crown, gold and embedded with emeralds and rubys, sat neatly on his braided pink hair.
“Stupid, careless mortals.” He muttered. It was the voice from earlier, the one that had cut through all the others. She saw his lips move silently and felt the blood near the wound shift.
“I can't stop you making stupid decisions. You need to be smarter than this. Kill the animals, not yourself.” He grumbled while bandaging her with bandages that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Marina was sure that this was him—Technoblade—and instead of treating it like some reverent moment, she just felt pissed.
“Why didn’t you intervene sooner?” He halted his movements before sighing.
“I’m not allowed to meddle with humans. Chaos is going to kill me for this, and I’ll probably be banned from coming down here for another 10 years. Again. But you were dying, and I can’t let that happen. So stop with your stupid human blood sacrifices. Rabbits, deer—something else besides yourself.”
“But they don’t shut up unless it's human.” Marina gestured vaguely at her head.
“Prayers exist, you know. You could’ve just asked me. They listen to me more than they’d ever listen to you.” He said pointedly.
“Either way, no sacrifices for a month. Your sisters can carry the load. They’ll shut up for a bit. Afterwards, animals only. None of your blood.” He spoke it as a decree, a binding law that settled itself on Marina’s shoulders.
Marina stayed quiet as he wrapped the bandages around her abdomen, staring at the ground like it would swallow her. It didn’t.
“Here. Keep this on you. It’ll keep you safe during hunts and give you more luck catching animals.” He pulled out a leather cord necklace, an emerald wrapped in metal dangling off of it and two pieces of gold threaded on either side.
Carefully, she place it around her neck. Then she looked at him, and his blood-red eyes, and nodded.
Marina had learned to hate her birthdays.
She’d embraced this whole blood god thing as well as one could embrace having to kill to stay sane.
She figured, though, her 18th would be a little better.
Dara willingly got up to go hunt with her for the first time in…a long time, and while Marina would never admit it out loud, she’d always prefer hunting with people than without.
It was helpful for keeping her in check.
Post-hunt, Marina and Dara sat on the bench on their patio in the backyard as the sun rose.
“Not like we’ll sleep anyways.” Dara said pointedly. While Michaela had always been able to brush it off, the younger two were less capable of doing so.
They sat quietly. Watching. Learning what silence was for the other, and melting into that. They quickly learned being with one another made The Voices quieter, like they were sharing the load instead of carrying it alone.
“You gonna be okay when you go to college next year?” Dara asked quietly.
“I’m gonna be with Mikey. I think I’ll be alright.” Marina leaned back, staring at the sun because no matter how many people said not to, she’d always been bad at listening to instructions.
“You gonna be okay without us?” Dara look longer to reply than Marina did. She moved to pull one leg up to her chest, resting her chin on her knee and wrapping her arms around her shin.
“I hope so.” Dara finally said. “I’ve never really been without you guys. The room’s gonna feel colder. Bigger. Too much space I don’t know how to fill.”
“I think,” Marina started slowly, “I think you’ll be fine. Because you’ve always been good at figuring out what works and what doesn’t. You’ll learn to fill the space. Or maybe you won’t, and me and Mikey will do our best to fill it from Notre Dame.” Marina finally turned to look at her younger sister, who was already staring at her, a small, soft smile on her face.
“When did you become the sap?” Dara teased, but her words held no malice.
“No idea. Probably a perk of being 18.” Dara laughed, shaking her head.
The sun rose slowly, like it was respecting the peaceful atmosphere that had sparked to life in the Mabrey’s backyard.
Marina and Dara didn’t go back in until Ryan came out to get them.
Nothing was complex about the day. If Marina didn’t know better, she’d think it was just another Sunday.
Just before Marina was about to declare herself exhausted and pass out until, hopefully, the next day, her mom stopped her.
“Birthday gift.” She held out a small wrapped box. Dara stood next to her like an overexcited puppy. Marina took it with hands too gentle to be a killer’s.
Marina carefully undid the wrapping paper. She peeled the tape back so the pattern on the wrapping paper wouldn’t tear, even though it’d never be reused, and she freed the box from the paper prison without a single rip.
She opened the box, and inside was a bracelet. A simple, sleek silver chain with two charms—a silver dagger and a teardrop-like charm that Marina assumed represented blood—dangling from it.
“A bit on the nose, no?” Marina looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, you kill everything on and off the court. A dagger suits you.” Her mom shrugged. “And the blood, well, just a reminder that you’re stronger than you think.” Kill everything. The words, which were a throwaway comment, embedded into Marina’s skin, sinking into her bloodstream.
“Thanks, mom.” Marina tried for a small smile. She was grateful, really, and the pendant was stunning.
She just didn’t know how to not feel like a weapon.
Marina would like to believe she knows better than her 16-year-old self. Present day Marina doesn’t laugh stupidly loud, she doesn’t drop her phone, and she doesn’t make offerings of her own blood.
She couldn’t if she tried, actually. Every time the blade got too close to her skin or pointed towards herself, it would vibrate violently before falling to the ground.
Not very convenient. Especially with how many times she’s accidentally picked the dagger up blade first before watching it go flying onto the ground.
Her past few years in the W had been rocky. It was very annoying to have to get a hunting license every time she was traded, though. She’d started killing in larger quantities with less frequency, only hunting every month and a half or so.
Los Angeles meant killing a ton of coyotes, because they were common and she could kill them easily. Dallas was easier, because she could kill deer, which meant hunting less frequently. She also bought a gun, because hunting deer with a blade wasn’t legal.
Chicago was really an ordeal, because in addition to the organisation being a dumpster fire in the depths of Tartarus, getting her license was a nightmare built with phone calls and too many websites.
Now, she’s in Connecticut. While the state isn’t necessarily hard to hunt in, it doesn’t have the largest variety. She’s mostly been hunting easy targets—chickens, ducks, geese, and her usual rabbits and squirrels.
She’s been surviving. It’s been fine.
Until Saniya Rivers came along.
A sharp contrast to Marina’s way of charging through things to take up space, Saniya stepped into a room and it made space for her. Where Marina destroyed, Saniya restored.
When Marina Mabrey met Saniya Rivers, she was sure she would hate the rookie. She was charming, loud but in a soft way, rough in all the ways Marina was smooth.
It clung to Marina’s skin uncomfortably.
And for the first week of training camp, this proved to be true. Marina would yell something too loud, throw something too hard, and Saniya’s jaw would clench but she’d never bite back.
At least the rookie knew her place.
Media day, funnily enough, was the icebreaker. The media team wanted content of the two of them. It wasn't outlandish—classic rookie and vet stuff—and Marina understood that this was work, so she just nodded even though her heart dropped to her stomach for a good long while.
They did some stupid TikTok challenge, something Marina had probably scrolled past a million times, but it made the vet realise something.
She told jokes that made Marina laugh, she poked back playfully when Marina rolled her eyes—it all just worked.
Just as quickly as it was built up, the wall separating them crumbled.
The weirdest part was how The Voices acted around Saniya. They’d pause, chattering becoming whispers that Marina was sure had nothing to do with blood.
Somewhere along the way, she started driving Saniya to practice. Saniya wasn’t the only person to tease her about it.
“You going soft now, Rina?” Mikey commented one night over FaceTime after Marina recapped her day.
“Please. The earth would freeze over first.” Marina rolled her eyes.
“I doubt it. You’ve been seeming real cozy with that Niya girl.” Michaela teased, and the younger froze.
“Please move on.” Marina pleaded. Michaela smirked knowingly.
“Hmm, fine. You go hunting recently?” Marina sighed.
“Not yet. They keep delaying my license.” Marina complained, flopping down dramatically onto her bed. “This state is useless. At least they didn’t make me give up my gun.”
“Asked him for a pause until it renews. Dunno if it’ll hold long enough, but…should be fine.”
“Mm.” Michaela hummed in agreement.
“Enough about me. How’re things with Kah?” And in two seconds, Michaela melted from tough older sister to a lovesick puppy with a dopey smile.
Marina had spent a lot of time thinking.
She thought about death, in its many forms, and wondered about her own, and whether it would be as painful as killing was. She figured, if it was, she probably deserved it. No person who revelled in the beauty of bloodshed deserved peace.
She thought about The Voices, and wondered where they even came from, and how painful it must’ve been for Techno to deal with them as a child.
She thought about Saniya, and how the rookie was annoyingly perfect, and how she was the only person who could make Marina flustered just by looking at her with those eyes.
That’s when she stopped thinking, because she did not want to unpack that yet.
She wasn’t going to lie to herself though. She knew what it meant.
It’s weird being without The Voices.
Marina notes this because she feels slower now. She’s felt slower for the almost month they’ve been gone. She doesn’t have them constantly nagging at her to rotate, to shoot, to pass. She doesn’t have that extra set of eyes helping her out.
And yes, she can read the floor perfectly fine without them. But her accuracy with them was damn near 100%, and without it’s looking closer to 80%.
Enough to make her, and everyone around her, ticked off.
Even Saniya had something to say.
“You alright?” The rookie eyed her warily, the usual teasing lilt gone and replaced with caution.
“Fine.” Marina’s response was too sharp, too quick. Saniya wasn’t stupid, which meant she saw through it, but again, not stupid, so she stayed quiet.
That night, Marina prayed again.
The next day, they were back, sounding more like excited little puppies than menacing demons, which was too much for pre-caffeinated Marina to deal with.
More blood! One squealed.
Finally. Michaela and Dara are rather boring in comparison to you. Another commented.
“Dramatic, but alright.” Marina muttered as she sat down in her locker. Saniya, who was in the locker next to hers, turned and looked at her with a furrowed brow.
“You talkin’ to me?” Marina jumped. She forgot Saniya was here.
“No. I just…think out loud sometimes.” Saniya stared at her weirdly before just shrugging and turning to Aneesah, who was talking to her.
We are not dramatic, by the way, a third voice huffed.
Keep tellin’ yourself that, Marina responded—in her head this time—while lacing her shoes up.
Practice…went. Marina was still trying to settle back into the rhythm of living with dozens of voices chirping at her constantly.
It was rather fun having them back, if fun was them trying to convince her to kill her teammates.
You guys need to stop, Marina thought with a tone of finality, or I send you away again.
Not that easy. One scoffed. Overconfident.
It is that easy, actually. And you guys aren’t even really supposed to be here. My permit renewal hasn’t gone through yet. One prayer and it’s game over, so stop. I’m not killing any of them. Marine reprimanded. They went quiet for a second, then silence became soft whispers Marina couldn’t make out.
Fine, one finally said, but you still need to give us blood.
“Believe me, I know.” Marina muttered. She was watching a scrimmage during this—rookies shuffled in as a way to acclimate them to the league.
Olivia, who was next to her, eyed her warily. “They’re back?”
Marina nodded sourly. “Unpleasant bunch.” Olivia let out a half scoff half laugh, a short, low sound right from her chest.
“Understatement of the century.”
After practice, Marina walked back to her car in a silence that came with weight she’d learned to carry. She sat in her car for few minutes. Replied to the TikTok Dara sent her, sent her mom a picture of her lunch so she wouldn’t worry.
Just as she got ready to leave, a small tap on the passenger's side forced her head to turn.
Saniya stood there, eyes sheepish, giving Marina a small wave. The vet rolled the window down.
“You good?” Marina asked carefully.
“Not exactly. Nees was my ride here, but she wants to go out with Leila, and I’m too tired for that. You mind if I hitch a ride?” Marina shook her head and laughed.
“Of course. Get in, rook.”
Blood? One of them asked hopefully.
No. Marina didn’t hesitate, forcing the thought down even if it wasn’t hers. She didn’t need the vision of Saniya bleeding in her mind, and she definitely didn’t want to think about how pretty the younger would look painted in red.
“Thanks, Marina.” Saniya set her bag on her lap and fastened her seatbelt.
“No biggie. We literally stay in the same building.” Saniya shrugged, chin resting on her bag, hugging it and using her phone on her lap.
“You’ve been settling in pretty well, from the outside.” Marina commented, finger tapping on the steering wheel mindlessly.
“Really? Doesn’t feel like it from the inside.” Saniya laughed, but it held no real warmth.
“You’re doing alright.” Saniya clicked her phone off, directing all her attention towards Marina.
“I dunno. It feels weird. Dad hasn’t been doing well after Mom, and everything feels like it's moving far too fast and I just…feel like I’m falling back.” Saniya deflated towards the end of her sentence, shoulders falling as she leaned back, head staring straight ahead.'
“You aren’t falling back. You’re a rookie. Big difference.” Marina reminded gently, “And you’re going to be fine. You are fine.”
“Hmm.” Saniya didn’t bother responding, like a moody teenager. Marina didn’t think too hard about it.
They drove in near silence for the rest of the way, the radio playing some shitty pop song, the engine thrumming with life all around.
10 minutes later, and they’d arrived. Saniya was quick with every motion—unbuckling her seatbelt, swooping her things up in one swift motion and stepping outside.
Marina, on the other hand, took her time. She undid her seatbelt, turning in her seat to reach to the back and grab her bag. She gathered everything, made sure the car was put into parking mode, and got out.
Saniya stood at the front of the car. Marina could see the restlessness in her bones—how her leg looked like it wanted to shake, and her fingers tapped against her side as she waited.
Saniya’s apartment was on the 4th floor, Marina’s on the 5th.
When the lift stopped at Saniya’s floor, the rookie gave Marina one last smile before disappearing down the hallway. Marina sighed as soon as the elevator doors shut, letting her head fall against the side of the lift.
This was gonna be a long season.
While Marina was 100% sure this was the most irresponsible thing she could do, she snuck out of her apartment at midnight with a black hoodie, cargos, and boots on , because The Voices decided not to shut up. It wasn’t really their fault—in total, she hadn’t hunted in almost 2 months.
Her dagger had been tucked into her boot, hidden because she figured walking out of her apartment building wielding it wasn’t a good look.
On her walk to the nearest forest (which was much too far away, but whatever. She could make do.), she felt The Voices growing stronger and sped up a little.
Five minutes from the forest, she saw something that made her heart stutter.
“Niya?” The rookie, startled, jumped.
“Jesus, Rina. What’re you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Marina gave Niya a once over with a raised eyebrow. “Since when do you smoke?”
Saniya was, in fact, holding a cigarette, caught between the middle and index finger of her left hand. Her bright red hair had been tucked under the hood of a WNBA issued hoodie, and her right hand clutched her phone so tight her knuckles turned white.
“Just…couldn’t sleep, ‘s all.” Saniya mumbled. “You?” Saniya’s words reminded Marina of The Voices tugging, which always seemed to fade into static around Saniya, and the pressure of her dagger pressing against the side of her foot.
“Walk.” Marina said with zero conviction. “Wanted to clear my mind.”
Saniya’s eyes sharpened, like she was figuring Marina out in real time.
“You good?” Saniya tilted her head to the side, watching.
“Fine.” Marina mumbled. She could feel the burn, The Voices trying to escape her mind and seep through every crevice of her body until she was no longer Marina, but instead just a means to an end.
“You don’t sound fine. Or look fine, for that matter.” Saniya stepped closer, and Marina’s blood seemed to burn her skin from the inside out. She hissed, feline-like, eyes darting up to stare Saniya dead in the eyes.
“Woah, girl.” Saniya stepped back, raising her hands. She stared Marina in the eyes and her breath caught.
Her usually hazel eyes were an eerie shade of red, like a blood moon. Her pupils had almost entirely disappeared into the haze of red, and she was breathing in and out so harshly Saniya could see her shoulders rise and fall.
“Sorry…” Marina winced. The Voices were more than just voices—they’d always been, but now more than ever—pressing against her skull, her skin crawling with every scream for blood. “I can’t control them, Niya.” She whispered in a final attempt to protect the rookie.
“RiRi?” Saniya stepped backwards, cigarette falling to the ground.
“Run. Niya, please, run. I don’t know what they’ll do.” Marina pleaded. Her voice was shifting now, sounding less and less like Marina.
“Ri…” Saniya’s voice was low with a warning that felt more like a threat.
“Niya, please, go!” This time, it wasn’t Marina’s voice. Marina’s mouth opened, and out spewed a cacophony of voices, none the Marina Saniya knew.
The vet stalked closer and closer, her motions almost too fluid. Like she was made of liquid. Saniya heard the faint sound of ash against gravel.
With no warning, Marina yanked a dagger free from her boot, charging towards Saniya, mouth curled into a snarl.
“Jesus—” Saniya yelped, “What the hell?!” She charged past Marina, sprinting down the street and not looking back.
Saniya tried to rack her brain for any reason Marina would turn into a murderer in the middle of nowhere. Marina had mentioned a “them” before trying to kill her. Something controlling her that she couldn’t stop. Saniya wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that was.
Her lungs were burning—she had to have been running for ages now—and she caught a glimpse of a forest. In a move of desperation, she darted in, disappearing into a mess of trees.
Marina followed, piercing through like an arrow that refused to waver.
“Gods above, Marina, must you be so persistent?” Saniya grumbled, but ran harder anyways. From behind, she heard a demon-like scream, what sounded like thousands of voices all screeched in sync in some kind of fucked up choir.
She tried to outrun her, but unfortunately, she was no match for probably-possessed-Marina. The vet tackled her to the ground, dagger pressed against Saniya’s neck. One of her arms got pinned under Marina in the process.
Marina was panting, hair everywhere, eyes not just red anymore, but glowing. Creepy, Saniya decided.
She tilted her head, like a wolf studying its prey, and her eyes—thankfully—stopped glowing. Still red, though, and it was very clear that wasn’t changing for a bit.
Then, without warning, she leaped off of Saniya and disappeared into the forest.
Saniya just laid there, exhausted. Sighing, she hauled herself back up and leaned against a tree.
Marina wasn’t sure how long she’d been running for.
She actually didn’t know anything. Everything was hazy, like she was in the backseat of a car that was going so fast everything blurred into one big blob. She was watching herself kill over and over.
She watched as three deer fell in quick succession—all within 2 hours—each one getting swallowed by the ground. The Voices were speaking through her, but it wasn’t her—if she focused hard enough, she could listen to them talk, hear the overlap of voices all pouring from the same mouth.
It was freaky, even from within her mind.
After the 3rd rabbit, she was able to grapple for some control. She flexed her fingers, adjusting her grip on the dagger. She looked down and mentally groaned. These stupid voices were so messy.
She ran around the forest a little longer, killing 3 more birds, 2 squirrels and one last deer, she was revelling in the bloodshed.
The blood of the squirrels and splattered on her face, bits of red dotted messily across fair skin. She felt alive again.
Long after the deer was dead, she’d carefully peeled back its skin until she reached its veins, letting the blood drip down her fingertips. More than a little manic, she giggled to herself at the goopy liquid coated her hand, making itself at home underneath her fingernails.
She rolled her hoodie sleeves up just to watch blood drip down her arms, smiling at the familiar beads of red crawling down her arms. She was more than content to just sit there, mesmerised, lost in the sea of red.
After long, though, adrenaline ebbed away, and she turned back to The Voices for help.
Get me back to Niya? She asked The Voices, and suddenly she was back in the backseat, and her body was upright again, and they seemed to know where to go.
When Marina didn’t return for another hour, Saniya used one hand to reach under her hoodie and pulled her necklace out, and the other to reach into her pocket in grab a drachma.
A leather chord with an emerald wrapped with metal, hung heavy on her neck. Hers had a feather the colour of midnight tied to the end. She buried the drachma into the soil.
“Lord Philza,” she muttered, eyes closed. This really wasn’t an ideal time to pray, but she figured it was better than sitting here, lost and dazed, “reveal yourself, please.”
She murmured the rest of the prayer as quickly as she could, and a singular crow feather, pristine and untouched, fell in front of her.
Sh e exhaled, if only momentarily. He was here. That gave her a decent chance of Technoblade being nearby, for most legends of them were told of their partnership, andhow they’d fight side by side—The Blood God who left trails of red everywhere he went, and The Angel of Death, who would clean every mess his friend left behind.
“Will she be alright?” Saniya whispered into the open air, hands gripping her thighs.
“Yes.” That familiar voice filled everything, and then faded to nothing. When she looked up, there he stood.
The Angel of Death donned a green robe, with a black coat over it, held together with a gold chain that had a singular emerald dangling from it. Under the robe was a black turtleneck. His wings were that of a crows—each one the same size as him.
Despite his menacing title, his eyes held kindness and age that came from knowing what it meant to live. his hair, a brilliant shade of blonde that was hidden under a striped bucket hat, was tipped with dirt at the ends.
“My Lord.” Saniya tipped her head in a bow.
“No need for that, Saniya.” Philza bent down in front of her—something he had told her many gods called him weak for. Saniya had always told him it made him feel normal.
“I know. I just like watching you squirm when I do.” Philza laughed, shaking his head, and pulled her into a half-hug before sitting in front of her. He folded his wings so they didn’t hit everything.
“Missed you, kiddo.” The god’s smile was so human it made Saniya forget he was divine.
“It’s been a minute, huh?” Saniya exhaled, smiling, eyes twinkling with joy.
Saniya had first encountered Philza as a kid. She had a tendency to run away, and each time, the God of Peace would find her, warm eyes and paternal smiles. He used to hide his wings from her, afraid they might terrify such a young child, until the girl pleaded to see them.
He’d lead her back home and remind her not to run away again, and she would do it anyways. No matter how many times it happened, the angel never grew less patient, always holding her hand and leading her home.
When she was 12, he gave her a compass, engraved with her name, and taught her how to use it.
“For when you get lost,” He’d explained, “it’ll lead you to wherever or whoever you want to go to.”
When she was 16, He gave her the necklace.
“Protection,” He’d told her as he’d tied it around her neck, “because I need you alive.”
“Why?” She’d asked, “Why me?”
“You’ll know when it’s time.” She’d huffed at the cryptic response.
“So,” Saniya toyed with the necklace, “this?” Philza sighed.
“This.” He agreed. “But more than that, her.”
“It’s like I always said. Two halves of a whole. It just…manifested a little differently. Me and Techno didn’t think it’d end up like…that,” He gestured at her and Marina, “but it’s not a major issue." He paused. “If anything, it might be better. Though, me and Techno would never work that way.”
“Techno?” Saniya trailed off.
“Technoblade. Blood God. Whatever. He’s watching nearby, because you’re both very valuable assets to us.” Philza shrugged.
“You always say that and never explain.” Saniya pointed out.
“Because I can’t.” He said, almost sadly. “But I’m sure you’ve noticed things too. You’re a very observant kid, Saniya.”
“Not a kid.” Saniya huffed, “And yeah, I have. But the necklace…” Saniya subconsciously rubbed the small crystal.
“Emerald.” Philza nodded in confirmation, “Symbol of me and Techno’s friendship. She has one, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’ve seen it in passing. Wasn’t really paying attention, though.” Saniya admitted. She lifted it up into her view, watching the moonlight glow through it. Then, she let it drop back onto her chest and stared at Philza.
“Why us?” She asked finally, never one to avoid saying the quiet part out loud.
“Because you’re both stronger than you think.” Philza hummed, “And you both see each other’s strength, not as a threat, but as something to be loved. That’s not easy.”
“There’s nothing about her that’s hard to love.” Saniya’s answer was as automatic as a block. Philza just smiled knowingly.
“She thinks differently. It’s your job to show her your side of it.” Saniya shrugged noncommittally before speaking again.
You mentioned something earlier. Voices?” Philza chuckled.
“Full of questions today, huh? Yes, The Voices. You know the story, right?” Saniya nodded slowly.
“He heard voices. Cursed some lady who tried to hurt your son.” Saniya looked to Philza, who nodded.
“Exactly. That lady just happened to be Marina’s ancestor. And The Voices can’t be eradicated.”
“But if The Voices are tied to him, can’t he just…I don’t know, man, take it back?” Saniya asked.
Philza sighed again. “Curses don’t work like that. A god’s decree is binding for eternity. No take-backs. He tried, after the first century or so, but Chaos isn’t kind.” Philza grimaced.
“He tried to take it back?” When Philza exhaled shakily, Saniya quickly backed off.
“Sorry.” Saniya said softly, bowing her head down. Philza shook his head, staring at the ground, arms crossed, back flat against a tree.
“Don’t be. He tried, yeah. He still hears them, but eternity means he gets to kill the already dead who roam the fields of punishment. It’s probably more fun for him that way, actually.” Saniya chuckled.
“I can imagine.” She sighed, letting her head fall back against the bark. Then, she looked back at him.
“Why’d be try and take it back?” Philza made a face.
“Techno’s relationship with The Voices is different from Marina’s.” he paused, frowning, “Or, at least, I think it is. But he’s had them since birth, so they’re just kinda like his friends. They support everything he does. He’s their god, after all.”
Phila softened. “When my eldest was…I dunno, 8? Older? He started hearing them too. That was when Techno saw how it could harm a mortal. So, he tried to reverse the curse, and get rid of Wilbur’s voices too. Went to Chaos, begged for help. Chaos declined. Dug through so, so many books trying to find anything.” Philza deflated.
“Nothing?” Saniya guessed.
“Nothing.” Philza confirmed. “I’d never seen him distraught before. Exhausted, angry, sad even. Never distraught. Never helpless.”
“I’m sorry.” Saniya murmured again, even though she didn’t know what she was apologising for.
“It’s okay. You’re bound to want to know things.” Philza smiled, but it was weaker. “Besides, you—” He paused, faltering, “never mind.”
“It’s okay, Saniya. You’ll know eventually.” Saniya groaned.
“You know I hate when you do that.” Philza smiled regretfully.
“And you know I can’t tell you everything I know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Saniya stared up at the moon, then back at Philza, “What’s it like? Being a god?” Philza looked up, emerald eyes full of untold stories that would fade with him.
“Weird. To know you’ll never die is one thing, but to know when everyone else dies is another. Think about it. Angel of Death but God of Peace.” He stared at Saniya, “Do you know how many times I’ve wondered why my domains are such opposites?”
“I disagree.” Saniya bit back. “Peace can come with death, and death can come with peace.” The corner of Philza’s mouth tiltled upwards.
“I knew I made a good choice with you.” Saniya just shrugged.
“When will she be back?” Philza paused, head tilted like he was listening. His wings fluttered, shaking themselves out.
“Soon. She’s strong, kills like she was born to do it. Techno says she’s having fun. He’ll keep her safe, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Does she know? About…any of this? Does he talk to her like you talk to me?”
“Techno is a complex man. He doesn’t talk much. He can’t talk much, really. His laws are different from mine. He cannot just show up when He is called, there must be sufficient blood or he’s just bound to the palace. Chaos doesn’t quite trust him to roam freely yet. I don’t think he trusts himself yet.” Philza gave a half grimace half smile, “I try to get him out when I can though.”
“That’s…good.” Saniya decided.
“Would be, if he listened. Never met a man as stubborn as him.” Philza shook his head. “Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. The pair sat there quietly, little fireflies floating by.
Marina returned 5 minutes later.
The vet stumbled towards Saniya, and the rookie caught her as she fell, placing Marina’s head on her lap. Blood covered every inch of her body—her hair, her face, trailing down her neck, her hands—everywhere. She still clung to her dagger tightly.
“Hey, Ri. You really scared me, girl.” Saniya said softly. She gave Marina a once over, checking for injuries, only exhaling when she found none that were actively bleeding.
The vet was thrashing slightly, eyes shut—exhaustion, Saniya figured—fingertips twitching. She’d dropped her dagger when she’d fallen, and it rested loosely next to her. They sat there so long the sun started to bleed through the leaves and the birds started to sing once more. Philza’s wings twitched twice, and he sighed.
“I need to go, unfortunately. Chaos isn’t pleased. Marina will be awake soon, so don’t worry. One of my crows will visit in a few days with a couple of things.” Saniya nodded, and Philza stood. He took a step towards Saniya and gave her a hug.
“Take care kid. And make sure to talk to Marina about the whole thing after this. She’ll be disoriented at first, so be sure not to speak too fast or do anything that might confuse her further.” Philza paused, head tilting before nodding.
“Techno says to take care of her too. She might be confused afterwards, kinda like a concussion, so make sure she’s not pushing herself too hard when she comes back to. She won’t have voices for a couple of weeks, and Techno says to not let her hunt.” Saniya nodded again, listening intently.
“If she seems sick or anything, you can summon me. You still have drachmas?” Saniya checked her pocket and sheepishly held up 1 finger. Philza sighed, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a pouch. “20 in there. Stay safe, kiddo. You need me to get you guys home?”
“If you don’t mind.” Saniya replied sheepishly.
“I got you. You should probably call in sick, take a rest day.” He advised. Saniya just nodded, adrenaline ebbing away and exhaustion settling in her skin.
Then he snapped his fingers, and Saniya was on the floor of Marina’s apartment, the elder laying on her lap.
Outside, Connecticut was waking up. Inside, Marina was too.
Her eyes were shifting back from red to hazel when she opened them, and Saniya could practically see the walls rebuilding themselves in real time.
“Ri.” The vet stopped shifting, looking up at Saniya.
“You okay?” Marina sat up, wincing and holding her head.
“Not really.” Marina sighed, eyes shut.
“You scared me back there.” Saniya said softly. Marina didn’t say anything for a moment. Then—
“I’m sorry.” Saniya turned her head so she could watch Marina. If the vet noticed, she didn’t comment.
“That you had to see that.”
“I think you have bigger concerns than that.” Saniya pointed out. “Plus, it’s fine. I wasn’t hurt.”
Marina huffed, the corners of her mouth turning upwards.
“There she is.” Saniya smiled. Marina shook her head and looked away. Marina thinks about how, somewhere, a rabbit had just discovered one of their own to be dead. A deer just realised their spawn is nowhere to be found, and all Marina knows is it’s her fault.
“I don’t remember anything.” She says instead. She quickly realised they weren’t bothering her for now. She wasn’t sure when they’d be back, but she’d rather not think about them when she didn’t have to.
“Would you want to?” The younger asks, and Marina shakes her head.
“I don’t like it.” Marina confessed quietly, letting her words be buried under layers of dead leaves and be taken by the wind. She thinks of the spiders and how they weave webs so beautiful to them, and how their works of art get destroyed by humans.
She hates how often she is one of those humans.
“I don’t suppose killing is pleasant.” Saniya said dryly, the way she always did when she wanted to make a joke but wasn’t sure if the time was right. Marina hesitated for a second before replying.
“Would it be bad if I said it was?” She asked quietly.
“No.” Saniya said calmly. “Because I trust you. And your judgement.”
“Even though my judgement is half controlled by manic voices that want blood?” Marina chuckled weakly, self deprecating and almost pathetic.
“Even if I want blood too?”
“Even then.” Saniya repeated. Marina shook her head, slow then quicker.
“Because I’m a monster.” Marina said plainly. She lifted the blood-soaked dagger like it was proof.
“Okay.” Saniya agreed. “But monsters don’t pause when killing their friends.”
“I tried to kill you?” Marina exhaled shakily.
“You should probably bathe.” Saniya said instead.
“But—” Saniya looked at her pointedly, and Marina looked down at herself. She could feel the blood drying and crusting over her skin, forming a thin layer of red, and grimaced.
“Fine.” She stood too quick, still dizzy from losing control of her body for hours, and stumbled.
“Woah, girl, careful.” Saniya stood up quickly, grabbing Marina’s sleeve-covered arm.
“I’m fine, Ni.” Marina huffed, but her mouth curled into a soft smile anyways. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay.” Saniya, never one to push, stepped back.
“Fine.” She paused. “But don’t do none of that trying shit. I’m gonna call Morgan and tell her you’re sick or something.”
“She knows.” Marina said softly. “You can just tell her the truth.”
“Okay.” Saniya nodded. “Holler if you need me. Don’t overexert yourself. We’ll talk later. Direct orders from the gods.” Marina blinked, tilting her head, mouth opening and then closing again.
”You know what? I don’t wanna know.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into her room.
In the shower, Marina scrubbed her skin raw.
She clawed at the dried blood until it was gone, but her skin would still be red. The water burned, and she was pretty sure she was crying, because she could taste salt in her mouth, and her fingertips were turning white from how hard she was pressing her nails into her skin, and—
“Marina.” Saniya’s sharp voice made everything stop. Her own thoughts were cut off and replaced by Saniya’s voice, ringing in her ears with the relentlessness of a wolf hunting its prey.
“You good? You’ve been in there for almost an hour.” Shit.
“I’m fine.” Marina called back, willing her voice not to shake. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
“Okay.” She heard footsteps disappearing down the hall and exhaled. She washed the last of the soap off, dried off, changed into sweats, and stared herself in the mirror.
She looked less like herself nowadays. Although, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to look like anyways.
“Breathe, Rina.” She whispered, before stepping out.
She walked down the hallway and found Saniya on the couch with Charlie on her lap. She was scrolling through her phone lazily with one hand, stroking Charlie’s fur with the other.
When she heard Marina’s footsteps, she looked up.
“Hey Ri.” Saniya said softly. “Feeling better?”
“Little bit.” Marina admitted, walking over to Saniya.
“Good. I ordered coffee from that place you like, it’s been sitting in the fridge for 10 minutes or so. I know you don’t really like their pastries, but I got you a croissant because you need to eat something.” Saniya nodded in the general direction of Marina’s kitchen. “Oh, and I already told Morgan, but is there anyone else on the team you want me to tell?”
Marina was opening the fridge halfway when she froze. “Uh…Olivia, probably. She knows about the whole…voices thing.” Marina mumbled the last part.
“Okay.” Saniya agreed easily, already texting, apologising to Charlie who was no longer receiving pets and hence very irritated.
“And your sisters?” Saniya asked after putting her phone down. Marina paused.
“Forgot about that.” Marina muttered, taking a very aggressive sip of coffee.
“You want me to text them?” Saniya offered gently.
“No.” Marina shook her head. “They deserve to hear it from me.”
“Okay.” Saniya repeated. She resumed giving Charlie pets, much to the dog’s delight.
Marina sat by the counter top, nibbling at her croissant between sips of coffee. Saniya watched for a few minutes, just quietly observing. Then, sighing, she placed Charlie on the floor and walked over.
“I know you probably don’t want to talk,” she started, “but there are things that are…important ish. So I’ll just explain it all.”
Saniya then reached under her shirt and pulled the leather cord out again, and watched Marina freeze, look up at her, back down at the necklace, and touch her own neck to make sure her own necklace was still there.
“You know Philza?” Saniya asked. Marina paused, trying to recall all the information she’d learned as a kid. Then, she nodded slowly.
“Angel of death, god of peace, blah blah blah.” Saniya made a face. “He’s my patron god. Gave this to me when I was 16, I think. Said it would protect me, and I think he was right.” She leaned against the counter top.
“The Voices—that was what was controlling you, right?—didn’t attack me. They tried, paused, and scampered off. Then you came back 3 hours later. That’s probably when you started to regain control, but the exhaustion of being mind controlled is…a lot, I assume, which is why you passed out.” Marina nodded slowly, processing.
“So what does the necklace have to do with all of this?”
“The Voices, in the end, serve Techno. He’s The Blood God, they demand blood for him. This necklace is, according to Philza, a symbol of his and Techno’s friendship.” Saniya gave Marina time to join the pieces together.
“So—” Marina swallowed a bite of croissant, “you’re telling me that we have some…connection?”
“Kind of?” Saniya shrugged. “Our respective patron gods are best friends. That probably tells you enough.”
The words best friends rung angrily in Marina’s ears, a relentless screeching that hurt more than The Voices.
“But also, Philza kept saying we were important to them. Do you have any idea as to why?” Marina tilted her head, thinking.
“The Voices…from what I hear from Mikey and Dar, they favour me a lot. They demand more, but they try to protect me as well. I…have no clue, honestly.” Marina furrowed her brows.
“Philza said something. Or…it’s more like he didn’t say something.” She remembered the way Philza had hesitated and cut himself off.
“So what do you think it’s about?” Saniya shrugged, arms flailing.
“I don’t know. It has to do with us, and them, and—honestly, I have no idea. I’m trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.” Saniya shook her head, slumping down on the seat next to Marina.
“We can try and figure it out today, since we have the day off.” Marina suggested. “Only after I take a nap though.” Saniya scoffed.
“Girl, you ain’t the only one napping. I’m boutta pass out.”
So they slept. Marina, very awkwardly, offered to let Saniya stay in her bed, since the bed was big enough for both of them and the guest room was not prepared in the slightest.
“It’s fine, Niya.” Marina rolled her eyes, fussy because she was tired and Saniya was taking too long, so she grabbed Saniya on the wrist and pulled her onto the bed with a sharp yank.
The younger yelped, falling onto the bed on her back.
“Sleep.” Marina commanded. Saniya sighed, but listened anyways, turning on her side and drifting off.
In her dream, she saw a palace built on a cloud. The entire building was built with large slabs of marble, and it shimmered when Marina looked at it from different angles. Marina could feel the magic radiating off of it.
She stepped in through the gates, the entrance complete with a compass made of tiles in the middle. Everything felt fuzzy, like she was floating. The walls were pristine, glistening. A chandelier gleamed above.
Then, the air in front of her shimmered, and Technoblade stood in front of her.
“Child.” A voice, sweet and soft, cooed in her ear. She whipped around, frightened, only to find a woman standing there, shrouded in black yet exuding an elegance that was impossible to replicate. Her dress touched the ground, and her eyes were maroon.
“Sorry, I didn’t intend to startle you. I’m Kristen, goddess of—”
“Dreams. And the underworld.” Marina breathed. “Sorry, I’m still a little out of it. Am I dreaming or dead?”
Kristen laughed, a soft, sweet sound like flowers blooming in the spring.
“You aren’t dead. Techno and Phil would both have my head for that one. But they, or really, Techno, needed a me to send a message.”
“Phil…?” Kristen tilted her head.
“Philza, my husband. Your little…friend’s patron god. Though, based on how you act around her, I think your relationship is more like mine and Phil’s.” Kristen’s eyes sparkled knowingly. Marina flushed.
“I’m almost certain that’s not the message you were asked to send.” Kristen just laughed again, the sound echoing throughout the empty room.
“It’s not.” She admitted, still smiling, “I’m supposed to tell you you to trust Saniya.” Marina furrowed her brow.
“Trust her.” Kristen repeated.
“No, I heard you. I just—that’s it? I already do that.”
“Ah, no, sorry. It’s not just that. Techno said to let you know you aren’t supposed to hunt for a couple of weeks, and not to overexert yourself. That’s where Saniya comes in, I believe.” Kristen explained.
”He said to cut you off if you try to argue back.” She paused. “You were arguing back, right?”
Marina shrunk back into herself. “Yeah.” Marina mumbled.
“Good.” Kristen said, satisfied. “Would you like to wake up now?”
Marina nodded. “Thank you, Kristen.”
The goddess beamed. “See you soon!”
“Wait, wh—” Marina woke up, the goddess fading from her view and being replaced by darkness. She blinked slowly, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. 2pm.
“Gods above…” Marina mumbled. Saniya was lying just below her shoulder, tucked into her side and deep asleep. At some point in their sleep, Marina’s arm ended up wrapped around Saniya’s waist, and Saniya’s own arm was draped over Marina’s abdomen.
Not that Marina was complaining, though.
She peeked a glance down at the younger girl, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. She wondered how she could feel safe enough to fall asleep in the same room as someone like Marina, let alone next to her.
If Marina focused, she could hear Saniya’s pulse. It was strong, healthy, and slowed by sleep. Marina wasn’t sure when exactly she gained that skill, but it was a neat trick.
She could hear her opponents heartbeats and guess when they’d move based on how it’d spike, or tell when people were injured just by listening to the blood rushing in their body.
It also meant she could tell when people were waking up—like right now, because Saniya’s heart rate was picking up again.
Marina shut her eyes, exhaling slowly to steel her own nerves.
“Stop breathing loud.” Saniya mumbled, turning so her face was tucked into Marina’s side. Marina startled, eyes flying open before she relaxed again.
“Sorry.” She sighed, and she felt Saniya’s hand instinctively tighten around her stomach.
“Yeah.” Marina confessed. “Hungry, though.”
“I bet. You haven’t eaten in ages, and hunting is probably exhausting.” Saniya hummed, sitting up slightly. “Order in?”
“Order in.” Marina confirmed, smiling.
They decided on pho—comfort food, Saniya had declared. Marina hadn’t bothered to argue. She trusted Saniya, didn’t she?
“Y’know,” Saniya spoke as she unpacked the containers of food, “I saw someone say pho is basically a potion. It’s like—herbs, meat, and spices, which is basically the same as a potion.”
“Hopefully it’s a healing potion, then.” Marina replied drly, grabbing her container of food and undoing the lid.
“Mhm.” Saniya agreed, sitting next to Marina, steam pouring out of both their bowls and smacking them both in the face.
They ate without conversation, Marina too exhausted to consider it and Saniya too smart to try.
“Kristen came to me in a dream.” She started quietly after swallowing a bite of food, “Said I should trust you.” Saniya glanced over, fork pausing mid-poke.
“Philza came to check on me again.” Saniya confessed, equally as quiet, “He suggested I best talk to you about the whole thing, and that you’d probably be feeling like shit and blah blah blah.” Saniya pulled a face.
“He’s not wrong.” Marina said dryly.
“You wanna talk about it?” Saniya asked casually after a mouthful of broth, like she was asking about the weather and not about Marina’s trauma.
The elder shook her head. “Later.” She vowed, more for herself than anything.
“Later.” Saniya echoed, nodding to herself and turning back to her food. Marina took it as permission to do the same.
Marina spent the rest of the day in bed. Saniya, foolishly—in Marina’s opinion—joined her, sitting with her on the bed as Marina messaged Mikey.
Then, Marina’s phone started ringing, and Saniya glanced over.
“I can leave.” She offered. Marina shook her head, reaching out to grab Saniya’s hand.
“Don’t?” Saniya didn’t protest, relaxing back against the headboard without another word.
“Marina Alise Mabrey, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Michaela’s voice was loud enough that Marina winced.
“Hello to you too, Mikey.” Marina grimaced.
“Don’t ‘Mikey’ me. You weren’t supposed to do it until you could hunt legally and safely, and now you’re telling me that not only did you ask for them back before you got your license renewed, you also didn’t hunt soon enough? Gods above, Marina!” Michaela groaned.
“I didn’t mean to! I was gonna make it to the forest in time, I just—got delayed, ‘s all.” Marina protested, her words disappearing into a mumble to the end.
“Ridiculous.” Michaela huffed, “You’re supposed to be smarter than this, Rina.”
“I’m sorry.” Marina said quietly, shrinking in on herself a little. Saniya squeezed her hand reassuringly. Michaela softened.
“You just scared me.” Michaela sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Marina repeated, and Michaela’s lips were pressed into a thin line, worry etched in her skin.
“Are you okay, though?” Michaela finally asked. “No injuries or anything?”
“No.” Marina shook her head, “I’m fine. Took the day off practice, though.” Michaela nodded approvingly.
“How are you doing?” Marina asked, and Michaela huffed a laugh at the irony of it all.
“Good. Kah’s on her way back from practice right now, so I’m waiting for her to get home.” Marina hummed.
“At least one of us is doing well.” Michaela shook her head with a small smile.
“Have you told Dara yet?” Marina hesitated.
“I’m not sure if I should.” Marina confessed. “She has a lot going on right now, I don’t want to stress her out more.”
”I’d argue she’d appreciate knowing her older sister is okay.” Michaela countered.
“I don’t know what your definition of ‘okay’ is, but I know it’s not this.” Marina gave her older sister a pointed look. “I really don’t want her worrying.”
Michaela sighed like she knew it was coming. “Still. At least give her a text? She deserves to know you aren’t, y’know, dead.”
“Fine.” Marina huffed. Michaela, satisfied, smiled.
“Thank you.” Marina nodded mindlessly.
“Sorry if I scared you.” Michaela shook her head.
“You have nothing to apologise for.” The eldest smiled softly. On her side of the phone, the faint sound of a door creaking open was audible, and Michaela perked up.
“Kah’s home.” Marina laughed.
“Go. I love you.” The younger smiled.
“Love you too, Rina.” Michaela grinned before hanging up.
The moment the line was cut, Marina let her smile drop, falling back against the backboard. Saniya rubbed her thumb over Marina’s knuckles.
“You good?” Saniya checked, scanning Marina once over.
“I feel like shit.” Marina said eventually, glancing over at Saniya. “How’s that?”
“I don’t know what it’s like to be controlled by…whatever The Voices are, but I do think it’s bound to make you feel like shit.”
“It’s more than that though.” Marina murmured. The necklace around her neck felt heavier, and the bracelet on her wrist felt colder. She looked at Saniya again.
“They control me more than I’d like to admit.” Marina said quietly. “But in smaller ways than…y’know, that.”
“Like…” Marina exhaled, thinking, head tilted up to the ceiling. “During games is the most common. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m moving my own body.” Saniya hesitated.
“Is that why sometimes you move more…fluidly, or almost…I don’t know, inhumane?” Marina, surprised, turned to look at Saniya.
“You notice that?” Saniya flushed.
“Yes.” Saniya admitted, “But is that what you mean?”
“Yeah.” Marina plucked at her skin. “Or sometimes if they think I might injure myself, they’ll make sure I land correctly.”
”Terrifying.” Marina countered. “There’s so many of them. Hundred, maybe even thousands. All screaming. I don’t even know if I can trust my own body most days, which is…”
“Yup.” Marina looked back at the ceiling. The younger moved so she was holding Marina.
“RiRi.” Marina didn’t move. “It’s not your fault.”
“What?” She looked at Saniya.
“It’s not your fault.” Saniya repeated, looking Marina right in her eyes, “You couldn’t change anything.”
“I learned to kill when I was 12.”
“You were born into it. You didn’t choose this.” Marina sharpened, eyes narrowing.
“That’s just the issue, Niya. Even if I did have a choice, I would choose it. Over and over again, I would choose it. I can’t live without it.” Before Saniya could interject, Marina continued.
“There’s no reason for me to hunt every other week, you know.” Marina said dryly. “Hell, Mikey and Dara could hunt every 2 months if they want to because I hunt so often. I do it because I love it.”
“The blood.” Marina said, unwavering.
They sat quietly. Marina was waiting for the ball to drop. Saniya was waiting for Marina to see it would never fall.
“You aren’t leaving.” Not a question. An observation. Saniya tilted her head.
“No, I’m not.” The younger affirmed.
“You probably should.” Marina looked away.
”Because that’s the sane thing to do. I’m a monster, am I not? Leaving would be logical.”
“Fair,” Saniya conceded, “but no. You aren’t a monster. Not with me.” Marina felt the tears hazing her vision, prickling the corner of her eyes.
“I received a dagger when I was 12, Saniya.” Marina scoffed, incredulous. “I was born to be a killer.” She choked on the last word, tilting her head down shamefully.
Saniya reached out, her index finger tucked under Marina’s chin and forcing the vet to look at her.
“A monster born into ruin can be made whole again,” Saniya murmured, “for all monsters were children.” Marina shook her head wordlessly. Tears fell freely and without consequences now.
“And what of the monster who was never allowed to be a child?” Marina trembled. “What about the monster who had forgotten what it means to be whole?”
Saniya kissed the crown of Marina’s head like she was pure. Marina shook harder.
“I will love her anyways, because the things that make her monstrous to others make her beautiful to me.” Saniya said firmly.
“I’m a killer, Niya!” Marina cried. “There is no beauty in bloodshed.”
“But there is beauty in you.” Saniya ran her fingers through Marina’s hair.
“What am I, then, if not a monster?” Marina’s brown eyes glittered, the red peeking through.
“A human who’s surviving.”
“No.” Marina shook her head, frantic and wide-eyed, gasping for air and choking on tears. “Humans are warm. I don’t even know how warmth feels like anymore.”
“Yes, you do.” Saniya countered. “You might not see it, but all I can see is love that surrounds you.”
“What difference does it make if I can’t feel it?” Marina’s voice cracked.
“It means you can learn to love again.” Saniya insisted.
Marina laughed, tearily and self-deprecating, “And how do you do that?”
“Slowy,” Saniya whispered, “and not alone. Not anymore.”
With shaking hands, Marina lifted her wrist. The silver chain with two charms sat daintily on her wrist—a dagger and a droplet.
“Blood and a dagger,” Marina swallowed, “because all I do is kill.”
Saniya reached up and undid the clasp and dropped it on the bedside table. “Not with me,” she promised, “the Marina I know isn’t a killer.”
“I kill and stab as easily as I breathe.”
“You let me hold you and kiss you r head.” Marina flinched in Saniya’s arms, but the younger held on anyways. “That’s anything but a killer.”
“You aren’t loved enough.” Saniya corrected.
Marina, too tired to fight, curled further into Saniya, knees pressing closer to her chest.
“A human shouldn’t be addicted to blood, should they?” Marina asked weakly.
“Addiction is inherently human,” Saniya tilted her head, “isn’t it?”
“You are as human as I, for I know and love you.” Saniya continued. Marina opened her mouth to argue, to force Saniya to hate her, but the younger shook her head and placed a hand over Marina’s mouth to stop her from speaking.
“Don’t. You’re hurting yourself. You will never, ever, be a monster in my eyes.”
Marina wailed right then, and Saniya held her anyways.
“You’re beautiful, Marina.” Saniya murmured right into her ear as she sobbed. “Here, alone with me, you can just be Marina. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all you have to be.”
