thearena | Fatality

Who: Ermac and James Sunderland
What: James meets a rather grisly end
When: Week 5
Where: Rivendell
Warnings: Death, violence, and gore

When the arena began to flood, Ermac had been forced to abandon his previous haunts in search of higher ground and better shelter from the storm. The settlement in the mountains the first acceptable structure he'd found, so that's where he headed. A short exploration of the settlement revealed that, while the architecture was beautiful, it wasn't built to be a fortress. Too many open areas, too many windows; an army would have a difficult time fending off invaders, so what hope would a lone warrior have? As beautiful as it was, Ermac knew he'd have to abandon the area as soon as the local climate allowed him to travel more easily.

It isn't until he's begun settling into what he could only assume was supposed to be a bedroom that he hears faint sounds of movement in a nearby room. Well. He needed to be sure that the area was secure before he could even try to sleep. With his hunting knife in hand, Ermac slips quietly out of the room begins to trace the noises to their source.

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James had become a mess the moment he lost Rotor in the sudden raid, and completely unaware of what really happened. Was that part of the Arena? What was going on beneath their feet?! The further he looked, the more his mind regressed to Silent Hill. He'd heard stories of a man named Harry Mason, who went into the cursed town to find his daughter. The District 5 native child might not be his son but Sunderland was losing it just as well.

Worse, he started hearing Mary's voice again. James, why did you leave me? Why did you kill me? Did you kill that little boy too?. He heard Laura's as well, using that same anguished tone when he told the little girl the truth, You big fat meanie! You lost him too!

"Rotor! Rotor! Answer me please!" he called out, desperate and teetering close to one hell of a breakdown. Arendelle was gone now...the other castles destroyed. This one had to be it.

Ermac steps out from the shadows, almost relieved that it was only James.

"We do not know this 'Rotor.'"

He strides toward James with the air of a predator approaching cornered prey. He had nothing against James, of course, but he had no reason to spare the man. They were here to fight to the death, and that was what he intended to do.

SHIT.

Best way to sum just how screwed James was at that moment: he recognized Ermac from when they met at the Training Center. The man was an experienced warrior and James knew he was outmatched and outclassed in every way possible. He thought the Batter was bad? Nothing like this one.

So Sunderland did what he thought was sane: he ran. Dying's a bitch and he never knows if the Gamemakers will bring him back. He wants to live! He wants to see Clara again!

But he also wants to give his District a shot.

Edited 2015-11-08 17:10 (UTC)

He watches James run for a second as he considers the distance between them. Once he feels he knows where James will be in the next half a second, he throws his knife, hard, at James' back. Although throwing knives aren't his specialty, the blade still hits its hit with a satisfying 'thwack!'

The knife lands with precision, stuck in between one of his ribs and embedded in muscle. What's worse, Ermac's throw managed to tear into the man's left lung. James couldn't run anymore as he felt the pain and his chest cavity fill up with blood. However this death was happening, it was going to be a messy affair.

He held up his salvaged pipe up as a meager defense, his eyes showing pain but also determination. He knows he's done for but he wants to give the Capitol a show.

"Y-You won't stop, will you?" he coughed up.

"No."

He plants a boot on James' back, and pushes down on him to make retrieving his knife easier. The blade slides out with some force, but the serrated edge tears into James' flesh as it's pulled out. Ermac grabs James by the collar and hoists him to his feet. He preferred his victims to be upright just before the final blow, after all. It made the act both more dramatic and more dignified than simply slitting a man's throat while he was already down.

"It is our duty. Do not take this personally."

Ermac buries the knife up to the hilt in James' stomach in an entirely professional manner.

James screamed at every instance of violence Ermac inflicted onto his body, every tissue torn apart like they were made of paper. But in the back of his mind, Sunderland knew that this was the only outcome he had when they crossed paths. He was so obscenely outmatched that he's thankful the warrior has given him some semblance of dignity in death.

"J-Just make it quick...I just want to..." I want to see Mary one more time...I have to move on before I come back...if I come back. Because on the other side of the screen, James can guess Clara is watching. Ermac will bestow an unlikely gift onto his victim: a chance to pursue something new should the Gamemakers allow it.

"As you wish."

'Quick' was such a relative term. Ermac took no particular pleasure from letting his victims suffer for hours until they finally expired from something as mundane as blood loss, but he did have a keen sense of style. His audience was expecting something dramatic, and far be it from him to disappoint them.

Ermac buries the knife in James' shoulder and forces it downward, cutting through muscle and bone as cuts toward the base of the man's spine. He repeats the brutal action, starting at James' other shoulder and forcing the knife to leave a second horrific gash parallel to the first, on the other side of his spine. It's difficult work, with the blade catching on the man's ribs and threatening to snap under the incredible strain, but Ermac completes that first step as quickly as he can.

He then grabs James by the hair and pulls his head up. He plunges the knife into the dying man's neck and pulls it across to sever everything in its path. With James' head only attached by a precious inch or so of flesh, Ermac plants his boot on James' shoulder and pushes down, hard, as he pulls at his head. The effect is as spectacular as it is disturbing: the last pieces of muscle and sinew tear under the strain, and the man's head and spine are pulled free from the rest of the body, anchored only at the base. Ermac holds it up for the cameras he knows are watching him, then smashes the man's head against a wall.

Victory. He'd made a successful kill, brought himself one step closer to winning the Arena, and yet he didn't get the feeling of grim satisfaction that such killings normally brought him.

Fatality

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I'm so sorry, James.