dulce decessus

The older male watched as she gracefully made her way to the glass panes; her humanly actions a complete one-eighty from those of the thing she became from time to time. It didn’t bother him, honestly, if anything… her wendigo side intrigued him even further. She was like a coin with two sides and he’d fallen for the heads and tails.

Before she met Nathaniel, Eliza had spent little time in her human form. The only use she had for it was to lure travelers to their bloody end, which was helped greatly by her naturally innocent appearance. When she wasn’t actively hunting, however, she had preferred to stay in her natural form with it’s rotten flesh and razor sharp claws. Only for ease of interaction did she remain human while with Nathaniel.

In Another Life

Eliza didn’t mind that their home was run down and barely fit for habitation. Being what she was, the cold never bothered her and neither did exposure to nature. Few things bothered her, to be quite honest about it. Despite the curse of her eternal hunger for human flesh--that, despite her deep love for him, did not exclude the man who sat not far from her--there were quite a few perks to becoming a wendigo. Maybe most would say it wasn’t worth the cannibalism, but she had made her choice years ago and it was far too late to take it back now.

Nathaniel’s eyes widened as his cuffs were unlocked and the threat was seemingly a go. Every inch of him begged to thrash against the guards, to scream the awful things he had every intention of doing to him if so much as laid a finger on his babydoll. His appearance remained unfazed, despite the utter chaos swirling in his mind, the less he appeared to care, the more likely Eliza would make it out of this unscathed.

No remorse showed on John’s expression as Nathaniel lashed out at him, though he did make a mental note to make sure there was extra security on the serial killer at all times. The last thing he needed was an incident that had a risk of revealing the corruption so deep in the ranks. It had taken a long time to silence those who would speak up and he certainly wasn’t about to let the psycho in front of him take that effort away.

A sharp pain shot through his chest as the word promise passed her lips. Promises were just empty words thrown around to appease others; more frequently broken than kept. It was a fact, though the petite blonde had seemed so sure that she would, indeed, teach him how to cook. The severity of the situation seemed lost on her, or maybe she just chose to ignore the odds and hold onto that hope of hers until the end.

Eliza refused to believe that she wouldn’t make it home. Sure, she wasn’t stupid and she knew the odds were far from in her favor, but she had to hold onto that hope or else all would be lost. Now with her promise to Nathaniel, she had another reason to keep fighting. She didn’t like to disappoint people and teaching him how to cook would certainly be a lot of fun. If she survived the games, she suspected she would need a lot of fun to get her mind off of it.

John gave the man a smile, but there was no kindness it it; it was the grin of a predator that had found its prey. “I’ll be sure to tell her it was your choice then,” he said, tone still as polite as could be despite the darkness in his eyes as he unhooked Nathaniel from the table and ushered him out to the hall. Several guards took him back to his cell, returning a couple minutes later with the very confused, sleepy blonde that was still wearing her blood stained dress.

Her whole aura radiated warmth and optimism, two things that seemed to be lacking from his genetic code. When he was chosen for the games, the reality of kill or be killed was not a harsh pill to swallow; he did what had to be done and it didn’t affect him at all. She, on the other hand, carried herself with in such a gentle manner he found the reality of her being able to kill highly unlikely.

At his honest answer, Eliza’s eyes lit up. Despite it all, she couldn’t help her quiet desperation for happiness. If everything in the world was turned against her, she didn’t care; she would make her own joy and she would share it with as many people as possible no matter what the circumstances. Perhaps it would get her killed and perhaps it made her look ridiculously naive, but she didn’t care at all.

“That would be nice.” He lied with a disarming smile. The chances of her winning were slim to none, and their distract already felt like they were batting a thousand. It was cruel, really, to even entertain the idea in her head, but this young woman was about to go through hell and anything he could do to make it less terrible was going to be done. “It’ll be a nice change of pace from my constantly burned cooking.”

Eliza’s smile brightened as she chose to focus on the unlikely future rather than all the nightmares that were soon going to come. “Then I’ll have to cook for you. You’re way too cute to be eating terrible food,” she chimed, smile finally reaching her eyes as she brushed her blonde hair back out of her face and sat forward. “Maybe I could teach you to cook. What do you think? Do you think I’d be a very good teacher?”

“My prisoner.” His tone was unwavering, no emotion on his face. The moments between their capture and waiting to be interrogated had allowed him to calm slightly. There was only one way to play this and keep Eliza safe, and Nathaniel had been an actor playing a part his whole life. Lights, camera, action.

Nathaniel’s eyes slowly fell to the floor. The fact that nearly all of the girls and boys he’d mentored in the past never made it far into the games didn’t seem to hit him as hard as it should. Maybe it was the lack of emotional connection in his past; the only relationships he had were forced on his part. The wiring in his mind disconnecting him from others, but a small wave of sympathy washed over him when he looked at the blonde.

“Maybe I’ll win and I’ll get to come there and be your neighbor. Wouldn’t that be nice? I’ve been told I make really good cookies.” It was a nice thing to entertain, even if the likelihood of actually making it back was little to none. She was probably going to die very very soon, even if the genuinely sweet smile that found its way back onto her face told a different story; if she was going to die, she didn’t want to do it thinking of all the pain that was to come.

No one looked him in the eye. Perhaps they were scared and lacked the cojones to stare now a man they just found hovering over a half chopped up decease woman, and who could blame them? It didn’t matter if anyone actually did, Nathaniel’s returning glance would have been completely empty. He was drained, gone was the people pleasing facade he always wore, and in it’s place was the shell of a broken man.

Though it didn’t show on his face, the detective was glad to have the girl’s name. She showed up in no records and she had no form of identification on her and given her rather hysterical state, she wasn’t really willing to answer a lot of questions. Nathaniel, however, seemed to be a much better candidate for interrogation. As terrifyingly psychotic as he obviously was, he had a soft spot for the blonde and that could be manipulated.

Nathaniel sat on the stage, just as he did every year, as one of the capital’s minions tried to make a party of this year’s reaping. His eyes wandered from left to right as they surveyed the crowd, looking for anyone who might actually win. “Eliza Winnick.” His light brown orbs landed on a petite girl as she made her way on stage. He let a small sigh of frustration escape his lips, anyone who looked at her could tell she wasn’t a winner; she was a child just waiting to break.

Eliza jumped slightly as the sound of a cleared through cut through day dreams where she was someone freer than she was now. They were nice, but even she knew that they would have no place in a game where even a moment of faltered concentration could mean certain death. She figured she should have made peace with it all already, but it was more difficult than she had expected to come to terms with her likely death.

Eliza had always worn this sense of peace; whether she be extremely happy or that calm was completely misplaced, he’d never seen otherwise. Well, until now. The overwhelming panic expressed through each and every action only added fuel to Nathaniel’s rage. He continued to slam against the car door with every last inch of his strength all while his babydoll screamed for dear life twenty feet away.

Eliza screamed for hours, even after they had driven her away and put her in a holding cell as far away from Nathaniel as they could manage. She screamed and fought and sobbed until her small body finally gave up on her, causing her to finally slip into unconsciousness on the uncomfortable cot in the cell. Though she was far from aware of it, she was lucky that her exhaustion left her dreams empty; if they had not been so, there was no doubt that they would have been filled with nightmares to rival any horror movie.

Silence. Nathaniel’s eyes were glued on the door frame that was now missing it’s door. She just had to stay hidden; stay safe. The breath caught in his throat wasn’t even noticed until his brain screamed for oxygen. Anxiety. Yet another emotion he wasn’t too keen on experiencing. The mumbled voices coming from their house were indistinguishable as he waited not-so-patiently for the return of the men in uniform without Eliza.

Attempts were made to communicate with her and to ask her whether she was his partner or his victim, but there was nothing that strangers could do to cut through her violent hysteria. It was the other side to her insanity, the part that not even Nathaniel had seen. It was the part that refused to confront reality, the part that desperately clung to her fantasy world like a drowning woman held onto a life vest. It was screaming and tears running down blood soaked cheeks and it was kicking and fighting and blue eyes locking onto the one person she saw as a true anchor. He was her world and without him, everything would crumble.

She was shaking. The pain tearing at his heart made him ponder that maybe he was lucky before, when he felt nothing, because it order to experience true love you also had to accept the unbearable pain that came with it. He knew she was right; how would she survive on her own? He would figure out who to call when he got to the big house, now he just had to make she didn’t join him.

Eliza pressed one hand tight over her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of her quiet crying as she heard the cops enter their home. Why did they have to show up? Why did they have to ruin everything right when she finally found some real happiness? She hated them as much as she was scared of them.

The mood in the atmosphere had changed completely in less than a second, the severity of what was about to happen not lost on her. He quickly rose to his feet, cupping her cheeks in his bloody hands. “There’s not enough room in there for both of us.” He spoke to her lovingly, trying desperately to defuse her terror. “I’ll just hide somewhere else.” He nodded with an disarming smile. He had no intention of hiding; he was ready to accept whatever fate was being thrown his way as long as she was safe.

Tears found their way into her eyes, a few escaping to leave streaks through the blood on her cheeks. She had to trust him. She had to believe that his promises were real and that she wouldn’t be left alone without any idea of what was to come next. Alone was the worst thing for someone as disconnected from reality as her.