End of the line [closed]

[knifewithnoname]

WHO | Pruna and Hyperion
WHAT | Pruna's luck finally runs out
WHERE | Frontierland
WHEN | Just after the feast
WARNINGS/NOTES | Death of a small child, also descriptions of bad injuries involving the food and ankle. Will add more if necessary

Pruna fled, crawling out of the clearing where the tree was, ignoring the shouts behind her. She dragged her leg, ever movement sending jolts of pain through her, her foot was sticking out at the wrong angle, blood and dirt covering the skin which was rapidly bruising.

Her breath was ragged, and she breathed deeply, seeking the emptiness and finding refuse there. She couldn't hold it for long, it still slipped a lot, but it was enough for her to keep moving, get away from people. She needed to find somewhere to hide, to deal with her ankle.

She was so worried about what might be coming after her from the feast, that she didn't notice what was infront of her until it was too late.

Comments

[cutshort]

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to die." His voice was patient, his eyes watchful. He didn't mind her movements - he could grab her easily, at this rate, if she tried to run. "We're all going to die some day. It's an inevitability. We rarely get to choose how it happens, if ever." It was quite simple, really. The way he arched his brows and gestured to the girl made it seem like that, at least. "So how do you want to die?"

[knifewithnoname]

She scowled at him, angry at him and angry at herself for being helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wished.

"I will be fighting you." Whether that was her wish or just a threat could be contested.

[cutshort]

He'd take that as an answer. A good one, if incomplete and indirect. Hyperion considered it pathetic to go down without a fight. The girl had something in her that made her worthy of his knife. She'd be remembered for it when she fell for the last time, he decided.

It was a promise.

"I know you will."

He stood up again, dropping the spear by his side, and walked towards her, taking his knife out of his pocket.

[knifewithnoname]

She glared at him, but him using a knife meant he had shorter reach. That was good. She shifted in her crouch, pain flaring and threatening to burst the bubble of the emptiness.

She didn't have much time, he had her cornered and as getting closer every second.

Only prey wait for the kill little one, if you can see no way out at all then just fight and fight some more. At least you'll go down with dignity.

Kant was the wisest person she knew, so without another moments pause she used her good leg to launch herself into a roll, pain screaming through her as she tried to barrel into him, driving her knife in the direction of his leg.

[cutshort]

The knife was tilted to the side, as if purposely showing her the blade, as if wanting her to see one last thing before he killed her. He was sure that's how this would end, with or without new bruises and consequences to add to the blood that had been spilled on and from Hyperion's body.

He instinctively winced away from her attack, knife barely touching his skin as his legs moved, to the side, crouching down to catch the girl by her hair, to yank her back and expose her neck, shoving her back down on the ground with the knife against her throat.

"I'll do it quickly," He muttered through his teeth, struggling to keep her in place, without a single worry as to whether she went down quietly or screeching like a banshee, "I'll do it quickly."

She wouldn't feel a thing. It'd be merciful. She was worthy for fighting back.

[knifewithnoname]

She went down quietly, glaring at him and struggling despite the pain. Her eyes flickered with fear as the emptiness came undone around her. Now that it actually got down to it she didn't want to die, she wanted to go back to Gauig and be with her sister.

Her lips moved, and she began whispering a prayer hurriedly, that petered out in half a line, she had never bothered learning the prayer you were meant to say as you died, she had never planned on dying. She hoped the effort was enough.

At least he told the truth, in the end it barely hurt at all.

[cutshort]

The knife slid off her throat and blood poured - onto her clothes, into his hands, onto the ground. His eyes were shut and his arm stretched to the side, as if breathing in her last gasps for life as they escaped into thin air, shaped like words he didn't recognize. It was a clean cut, just like he promised. He laid the girl down on the soil carefully and stood up, wiping his forehead with his thumb.

Hyperion looked upwards and smiled, lips splitting to show teeth. It was done.

She was gone and he felt free.

She told him she'd taken eight lives, wasn't that right?

(Three down. Five to go.)