thearena | Lets go to hell in a fast car and keep it hot.

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Lets go to hell in a fast car and keep it hot.

Who: Insane Sandy and open to all
What: Sandy's lost her mind and is a danger to herself and others.
Where: The bunker and Cornucopia area. She'll meet you in either place.
When: Week 6
Warnings: Violence, death and whatever you want to see on those TV screens.

Insanity had an appeal to it that Sandy had never considered before.

She didn't feel insane, but there was a part of her mind that was willing to put the pieces together and say that there was only one reason why she had stabbed Ermac in the back. One reason why she was singing, laughing and generally acting like this arena was the greatest place to be. Something in that mask had caused her to lose her ever loving mind.

It came and went, the bouts of mania, anger, sometimes she sobbed for hours with a smile on her face and couldn't exactly pin down why. But one thing was for sure, everything was funny and bright now even when she was running screaming from dragons.

And so, with her burns having healed leaving her disfigured and twisted down one side of her face, she had made her way back to the center of the arena where she was wandering about swinging sharpened bone in the air enjoying the sound it made as it sliced through the stillness.

She was so distracted by this that she fell into the open entrance to the bunker and bit her tongue as her chin cracked against the hole on her way down.

She lay there for a moment in the bottom of a metal pit starring up at the sky and then giggled, and laughed and spat out a tooth as she rolled to her feet wincing with every step. It hurt like hell to exist but that was what made it funny that she was still here!

This new place, this cave of metal and glass...it was dark and creepy. With flickering televisions that were not very funny at all. Images of people she had known dying. Pruna's last gasping breath before being ripped in half by an eel, the old man in the mall that she had stabbed to death with a candy cane. Monsters that she had seen briefly before dying herself.

And still she smiled even if the tears had started again. This place was not funny, but it was perfectly perfect for exploring. Maybe there were more monsters here. Monsters she could kill and eat.

Or maybe there were tributes hiding down here...she wasn't picky. She couldn't afford to be after so many weeks.

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The bunker wasn't the most exciting or interesting place to be scoping out, but if he's to be perfectly honest with himself, the Batter could use a break.

Now that he was in possession of a bat - not his bat, which he had come to realize after a bit of disappointment but a bat nonetheless, and he was glad to have it - he was a lot more confident, and a lot more brutal. It wasn't much different from wandering the zones of his home world and purifying the souls of the wicked. It made him feel like he had that purpose again, that he was really back in his element and doing the best he could.

Leonidas was watching him, proudly. He had to be the victor this time. Nothing could stop him.

But after six weeks on his own, fending for himself, fighting other tributes and monsters and whatever else was thrown at him, the Batter was exhausted. He was injured, his left arm almost completely useless thanks to a scuffle from a week ago, and he's sure his knee's either sprained or twisted or something. He needed to take a break, and the bunker was the next closest option, even if that did mean finding a mostly even row of flickering televisions to crash on. The images don't bother him.

Of course, he only manages to stay off his feet for five, maybe ten minutes at most, before the sounds of another tribute draw near. He groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off the televisions and reaches for his bat. Hopefully this one will go down quick.

The hallways echoed softly with movement, broken only by the hissing and clicking of Televisions showing some of Sandy's worst memories from the arena. Horrible deaths, starving. Betrayals. She watched in fascination as Pruna was eaten by a horde of furious bug monsters and for a moment the smile slipped from her face.

"That's not funny." She grumbled in a childish pout, curling her fingers tighter around her knife.

She turned sharply and stomped deeper into the bunker hoping to find some place she could shut off the televisions from. There was a button, and it seemed as good a place to start as any. But punching it didn't seem to help. She slapped the button down multiple times but the televisions continued to flicker, now showing her fight with Mindy, and how badly she had wanted to punish the other girl.

She almost didn't notice Batter once he found her, spinning around to face him. Her eyes flickered with recognition and a slow smile crept along her lips.

"Oh...it's you. It's been a looooooooong time." She intoned. "How have you been?"

He hesitates. If he was thinking more clearly with a sound, rested mind, he'd be berating himself for the fact. But he hesitates and it'll end up being his downfall.

It troubles him, really it does. First it was the child at the Cornucopia, then the girl wanting her sword back, now her. It isn't as if he's had many encounters with her or even knows her well at all - but the arena's rules haven't changed and they'll come out scratch free at the end anyway, so why does it bother him that so many of them have been young children?

But it shouldn't. It's an unnecessary thought pattern that will only delay him further, so the Batter reminds himself to just forget about it and get ready for the inevitable confrontation. She'll be fine.

"It's hardly any of your concern," he answers, as firm and point blank as ever. He rests the bat on his shoulder, watching the girl carefully to see what move she'll make - she doesn't seem quite like the person he remembers from prior conversations, but that's not his concern, either.

"Do not expect mercy."

That makes her burst out into giggles.

"What? Seriously?! Look at me!" Then in a much heavier and angry voice "LOOK AT ME!"

Then more laughing.

"I look like a doll that fell into a fire place! I have patches of skin where my jumpsuit melted into the flesh! Every time I take a step or use my hand it feels like needles digging into my bones. This is how I've been living ever since the arena started and you think I expect MERCY at this point?" The giggles continued and she wiped a tear from her eye.

"You're pretty funny. Dumb but funny. It's too bad you're the only one here. I would have liked to watch you kill someone before I killed you."

Someone's in a bit of a mood.

It makes sense. She's in horrid shape. It's unusual to be as ... cheerful as she is about it, but the Batter supposes that everyone has their ways of coping with intense, sheer agony. Some grin and bear it, others just grin.

"I would hope you're not expecting pity, either."

He takes a single step forward, keeping a close eye on her every move - a twitch of her fingers, a shuffle of her foot, anything to give away what she could be planning. She's shifty and untrustworthy in her current state, so the sooner he can get this over and done with, the better. Hell, at this point, killing her quickly would be mercy.

"HA! I stopped expecting that five deaths ago!" She barked out in delight before lunching forward. The pain screeching through the burnt half of her body only fueled her mania as out came her hunting knife. The one weapon you could always count on a sponsor to send you if you didn't get lucky in the Corncucopia.

The hallway was tight, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, but wide enough for someone small like Sandy to dart back and forth from one side to the other to make it harder to guess which side she would strike at. In the end she threw herself into a dive for Batter's ankles swinging the blade to slash.

She was more than used to it, then. He already knew that the girl had been here longer than he had, but now it's revealed that she's been in the arenas and died multiple times. So she's used to it, and she expects it.

That does make the Batter's job a lot easier.

Not that it wasn't easy in the first place. Especially now with his bat.

She is quick, though. While the Batter knows he's faster, being wounded and exhausted as he was made it difficult to predict her movements and avoid them. He steps back to avoid getting both legs slashed, but her blade leaves a significant gash across his right shin. He's quick to retaliate however, swinging his bat at her hands, aiming to knock the knife from her grip and cause enough damage to make her think twice about trying that again.

There's a satisfying crack as his bat crunches the bones on her left hand into splinters. Even in her madness she shrieks in pain and bounces off the ground. A wild twist and thrash spins her on the ground before her foot swings at his groin.

There was no planning now. No tactics. Just lashing out wildly and chaotically.

One hit down. Injured as she is she's still quick, and if he didn't turn to the side just in time, that would've been an unfortunate blow. Her kick leaves a dark bruise on his thigh no doubt, but better to be sore in one leg than incapacitated by such an obvious, unfortunate weak spot.

The Batter is just as quick, using his left hand to grab the girl's ankle before she can pull her foot away. It's just enough for an attempt to pull her in closer, so when he next swings his bat, he has a better chance of knocking her in the head with it.

WHAM!

Stars swim in her vision and the trickle of warmth down her neck tells her that even if she can't feel it...she's in trouble.

Blood leaking out of her ear, a massive dent in her skull. Vision blurry, the impact has made one of her eyes pop, bulging so she can't even close it properly anymore. The pain in other parts of her body is starting to fade, maybe that's not as bad as her instincts says it probably is?

She shrieks like a banshee and uses the close proximity to lunge for his throat with her teeth.

It's a mistake, a single slip-up yet again that costs him dearly. He should be better than this, should be smarter and faster, but how was he supposed to know young children had the ability to sprout sharp fangs at will?

That's what it felt like, at any rate. One successful swing and the satisfying crunch was enough for him to believe the threat had passed. It's a split second of letting his guard down and his overconfidence take over, and that's all the time she needs, apparently.

He manages to turn the bat in his hand to deliver a striking blow under her chin, an attempt to get her to let go, but the damage is done and blood is everywhere. She'll pay for that, but she first has to let go of his throat.

The strike lands and rips her back taking with it some of his flesh and shattering her teeth so when she stumbles backwards and grins at him it's through a bloody jagged smile. Her eyes are glassy and she can barely see anything anymore. Blood pouring from her ears, nose and eyes till her face is almost a mask of shiny crimson.

One last inhuman scream, one last lunge for him swinging her knife wildly for his middle, Her mind is shutting down faster then her body can process. She'll be dead before she hits the ground.

He's able to keep one hand over his throat and the bat in the other, though really it's not doing him any favours. Her teeth had bitten deep enough to puncture what was likely a major artery and his vision was already foggy, finding it difficult to remain standing as a chill started to creep over him. But if this was truly it, well, she certainly wasn't going to get away with it.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground as best he can manage, the Batter waits until she makes her final lunge, until she's just close enough. As soon as she's in range, he swings the bat as strongly as he can, to crack against the side of her head. If she's not down after a blow like that, well, she deserves a little credit.

The bat finds it's mark and gravity does the rest. She hits the wall of the tight hallway and slides down slowly leaving a bloody smear on the way.

Her eyes wide and empty, her breathing slowing as death finally claims her leaving a rictus smile through jagged broken teeth as if mocking him that he may have gotten her again, but this time she'd finished his run too.

The canons sounded. Another pointless death.

It's less than a minute later for another cannon to sound out and signal another death. That final swing of the bat was the last of his strength, and everything is once again cold, and dark. All too quickly.

He's frustrated with himself more than he is angry with her. She's a child. He shouldn't have been so careless. The briefest of hesitations and he's done for. Why did it always have to be children, lately?

The Batter ends up slumped against the wall, bleeding out through the bite wound in his throat, the bat still in his hands. Alas. At least he fared a little better this time around, with a bigger kill count and longer track record.

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Lets go to hell in a fast car and keep it hot.

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