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Nov. 14th, 2011 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
district7"Look, no one's going to help you now."
The crunch of feet on snow, and you're running to the cover of a treeline with another girl-this one taller, blonde, stronger, more agile-in close pursuit. You are exhausted, you can't even remember how long you've been running but you know you are on your last leg and when your foot catches in a cluster of roots, you barely have the energy to scramble to your feet before she's on you.
There's fright on your face and a scream trapped in your throat as she brings her tomahawk down in a wild swing, an attempt to put the blade right through your face.
"You've pretty much seen to that yourself, with that little tearful farewell you gave."
It's a last minute dodge and you pay for it by taking the brunt of the swing in your left arm, and how you howl with pain. But you're alive, you've managed to roll away, your right hand landing on... A rock. Sizable, hefty, and you hold onto it as if your last breath depends on it.
The blonde's recovered from the bad swing and she's advancing on you again. This time you don't give her a chance; your initiative causes her to falter-just for a second-and that's enough. You slam the rock into her skull and she goes down.
"But maybe, if you're lucky enough, you can make it through this alive."
The tomahawk lays bloody in the snow, it's owner dazed and holding her hand out, trying to keep you away. You take a step forward, raise your rock again-"Wait, don't! We can work togeth-"-and bring it down, again, and again, and again until there's nothing but bloody pulp and a mass of broken bones left.
"You can only rely on yourself."
Blight's words echo in your ears as you pull away from the girl and spill the meager contents of your stomach.
The crunch of feet on snow, and you're running to the cover of a treeline with another girl-this one taller, blonde, stronger, more agile-in close pursuit. You are exhausted, you can't even remember how long you've been running but you know you are on your last leg and when your foot catches in a cluster of roots, you barely have the energy to scramble to your feet before she's on you.
There's fright on your face and a scream trapped in your throat as she brings her tomahawk down in a wild swing, an attempt to put the blade right through your face.
"You've pretty much seen to that yourself, with that little tearful farewell you gave."
It's a last minute dodge and you pay for it by taking the brunt of the swing in your left arm, and how you howl with pain. But you're alive, you've managed to roll away, your right hand landing on... A rock. Sizable, hefty, and you hold onto it as if your last breath depends on it.
The blonde's recovered from the bad swing and she's advancing on you again. This time you don't give her a chance; your initiative causes her to falter-just for a second-and that's enough. You slam the rock into her skull and she goes down.
"But maybe, if you're lucky enough, you can make it through this alive."
The tomahawk lays bloody in the snow, it's owner dazed and holding her hand out, trying to keep you away. You take a step forward, raise your rock again-"Wait, don't! We can work togeth-"-and bring it down, again, and again, and again until there's nothing but bloody pulp and a mass of broken bones left.
"You can only rely on yourself."
Blight's words echo in your ears as you pull away from the girl and spill the meager contents of your stomach.
