Hyacinth groaned, turning head to side as she began to stir back awake. She wasnât sure where she was or what time it was it. Rubbing her eyes things were still blurry, her body ached as she tried to sit up. Looking around she realized she was in some kind of jail or holding cell and suddenly it came rushing back to her. Auri. Fuck.Â
There were approaching heavy footsteps. Robot Peacekeepers. Only as they appeared there was a dark haired women with them. âLaunch time. Lucky for you get to watch from the comfort of your new home.â She gave a nod and a tv was rolled over and turned on. âEnjoyâ The women and the Peacekeepers turned and left before Hyacinth could fully process.
Launch? What time was it?? Drake was probably worried. She felt bad but then the Arena appeared. Some kind of steppeland but where are the weapons? It looked cold. Where is the count down? She was just as confused as some of the Tributes appeared to be.Â
There was a gong, some Tributes hesitating and others taking off. She watched in horror as her male Tribute ran towards the Cornucopia in Onyxâs footsteps. No, no, no, turn around!! Her male was trying to notch an arrow and then the District One male was on him. The terror was building in her chest but she couldnât bring herself to look away.Â
His blood now covered the District One male. At least it had been quick. But then to her horror she saw the boyâs hand and fingers trying to move. She felt sick, unable to hold back the feeling she leaned away from the metal bed and thin mattress she lay on and emptied her stomach onto the floor.Â
Luckily when she looked away it no longer showed her tribute. But to her horror Everett was now on the screen. He was on Siennaâs boyâs chest with his hands around the boyâs neck, the boy went still. Everett... Her eyes widened as a female started for Everett. âEverett!â She called out despite the fact he obviously couldnât hear her. But then the girl was running away, fear in her eyes. That didnât stop Everett from soon being covered in the girlâs blood. The same way she had been covered in blood. She could smell and taste the iron, feel the warm liquid that became sticky when it began to dry. The blood that Everett spilled looked no different than the blood Hyacinth had spilled or even her own. After all, we all bleed the same in the end.