xxv. onslaught

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twenty-five - onslaught

- - - ➳

it's been a day, and already things are starting to fall apart.

emmanuelle runs just behind me, hair whipping back into a blur. her breathing is labored as we jump and dodge rocks on the ground. i'm pushing myself as fast as i can, pumping my arms and straining to keep going. my heart pounds so intensely against my rib cage that it hurts. a cramp is blossoming in my right abdomen, causing me to grit my teeth and try to control my ragged pants.

matthias is leading the way, slashing through the shrubs with his sword as quickly as he can. his work is sloppy because of how fast we move. branches smack into my face, making me squeeze my eyes shut as they scrape against my cheeks. the gash on my hip pulses with pain as i move. i'm so used to it by now that it's become a regular occurrence.

a shriek from behind me causes me to turn my head quickly. emmanuelle's foot has been grabbed, her chin sharply smacking against the ground. another terrorized scream originates from deep within her, but is cut off by a knife slicing through her spine.

emmanuelle's cannon goes off.

"emmanuelle!" i shout hopelessly, staring in horror at the girl's blank and clouded eyes. her body lies sprawled on the earth, the knife causing blood to gush out from her back. the slight makes me feel queasy.

"thalia, come on!" matthias urges from up ahead. with one last look at our fallen ally, i break into a sprint again.

i dare take a glance behind me to see who has killed her. deep feelings of sickness, fear, and anger surface when i see titus following behind. he has both eyes now, narrowed into angry slits. there is only one thing on his mind at this moment: kill me.

reaching back as i'm still running, i launch a knife toward him. the blade whizzes by when he ducks easily. i groan at my foolish mistake. now i've lost a weapon.

"don't do it!" matthias calls, knowing without question that the plan that's forming in my head is stupid and incredibly dangerous. i ignore him and stop abruptly, sliding a new knife out of my belt and throwing it toward titus with all my might.

it lands in his stomach. he immediately stops in his tracks, jutting back a bit from the force of the weapon landing inside of him. titus glances down at it in what looks like astonishment. without hesitation, i grip a cool, metal dagger and aim at him again. this time it hits home just under his right shoulder.

now he's mad again. his pointed jaw tightens and he reels his skinny arm back, poised to throw a knife of his own. i lock my eyes on it and don't let it out of my sight.

it releases toward me. the blade forms a perfect spin as it races closer and closer. just as i am about to duck, matthias' sword swipes down inches in front of my face, knocking the knife away. this action has momentarily stumped titus. he stands with what i think may be confusion, and for a second he seems unable to know what to do, like nothing has ever interfered with his shot before. then his elvish face twists into something i can only describe as pure fury before he lunges at matthias.

though my fellow tribute is obviously more muscled than titus, the thinner boy is a career. he's smaller, quicker, and harder to hit. he ducks as matthias aims a kick to his stomach. it still has the knife embedded into it, along with the one on his shoulder. he barely seems to care.

quickly, i realize what matthias is doing– buying me time. i duck away from their battle and pick up the knife titus had thrown. when my hand gets a satisfying grip on it, i reach back and prepare to throw. there's just one problem: matthias is in the way. their bodies clash together so violently that it's almost impossible for me to get a clear shot at titus and not hurt matthias as well. my eyes frantically search the onslaught, a helpless feeling consuming me.

i can't get too close. titus would sense me. he may be smart enough to kill matthias the moment he realizes i'm there. because if the gamemakers really are controlling them, they – and the entire country of panem – know that the one way to mortally wound me on the inside would be hurting matthias.

the boy in mention drops his sword feet away from him. he kicks the knife out of titus' hand and slams himself against him so that their hands lock together on either side of their heads. their hands go back and forth slowly as they push hard to gain control. matthias' face is flushed with strain and his arms are as tense as they can possibly be. then, so quickly that i almost miss it, he shifts his eyes from titus, to me, then back again. a subtle nod to his opponent only seems like a twitch of the neck.

i readjust my grip on the knife before using huge steps to soundlessly bound behind titus. i jab the blade at the top of his spine. a guttural, strangled gasp causes him to choke and stand still, body rigid. matthias wrings his hands out of his and twists his body, sending a hard kick to the knife in the boy's stomach. it edges in to the hilt. after a second, matthias gives the final shove and titus topples to the ground.

i step out of the way and let him fall. my eyes stay locked on his open brown ones, wide and filled with shock, though unfocused. for a second my brain reminds me of what he looked like in my nightmare– the missing eye with the blood seeping from the wound. i shiver involuntarily.

"that," i hiss though he can't hear me, "was for asher and emmanuelle. rot in hell, titus amithscin."

matthias is panting so heavily it's like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the air. he stands there, chest heaving and face still beet red, before his knees give out and he collapses on the gnarled roots of a tree.

i give him a concerned look, prepared to crouch down to his level if i need to. "you okay?"

matthias nods, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back as he tries desperately to get air. into his lungs. his legs are sprawled straight out in front of him, arms behind him for support. he rests on his elbows so he's almost lying on the ground. "i'm fine. just tired, that's all."

i nod and walk over to the titus clone's corpse. since i know they aren't real people, it doesn't freak me out as much. however, the capitol does an amazing job at making them seem as convincing as possible, so a part of me twists as i come closer.

i put one foot on the body and yank out each of the knives. it takes more effort than i expected to get all three, especially the one in his stomach. it's the deepest of all, coated in dripping, fake blood.

as matthias' breathing begins to regulate again, i rip some leaves off a nearby plant and wipe off the runny, red liquid from my weapons. my nose crinkles at the horrible smell of the stuff. whatever they used must have a strong chemical in it.

once i'm finished, i slide the two knives into their sheaths and slip one on the bottom of my shoe. remembering the knife that missed titus, i turn on my heel and start to walk back to where i assume it landed.

just after i've taken the first step, matthias starts to get up. i stop and point down at him. "stay. i'm just going to get that knife."

matthias gives me an amused look, face still tinged pink with a flush. "i'm not a dog."

i make a face at him and jog away. my eyes scan the leaves for something shiny and metal. after a couple minutes, a flash of reflected sunlight momentarily blinds me. i blink rapidly to clear my vision and bend down to pick it up. as i walk back to matthias, i return it to its place in my belt.

matthias is sitting against the tree with the backpack in his lap. i almost forgot he had it. in his hands are some of emmanuelle's belongings, which he looks at with sadness pulling down his features. he turns a locket over in his hands, cut fingers brushing over it gently. i take a seat beside him.

"this locket was hers," he explains quietly. "she took it off at the pond and gave it to me to put it in here. i meant to remind her about it, but i forgot." a pause. "i hope she doesn't mind."

"she probably understands," i assure him. there's nothing but the slight rustling of plants as i examine the side of his face, how his somber expression causes his bottom lip to stick out in the slightest. "have you looked inside it?"

"it's empty," he replies, using the little tab on the side to pop it open. sure enough, there's nothing but the scratched-up inside of the circular, golden thing. he snaps it closed with his thumb.

"i wonder why she wore it," i muse. "if it's empty..."

i didn't know much about emanuelle, but i did understand that she had a lot of anger toward the capitol. i had always felt that the angst was very personal and not just because they sent her off to die. could it have had to do with her family? she said she'd been stripped from love...

"you should wear it," matthias blurts out suddenly. he's now holding onto the long chain around the locket.

i pinch my eyebrows together, unsure if i'd heard him correctly. "what?"

"here." matthias adjusts himself so he's now facing me. the chain hovers above my head, which i duck down to allow him to slip it on. it slides over my face smoothly. the locket rests just beside my heart. matthias tucks my hair out from under the chain and gives me a soft smile with his chapped lips. "there."

because of the way he turned, we're in close proximity again. i can feel my heart clench as i look at him. he truly is handsome. even the cuts on his face don't take away how pleasing to the eye he is. the late afternoon sun makes his forehead shine, especially from the amount of running we just endured. there are slight bags beneath his crystal blue eyes that are looking right into mine.

and my face screws up in pain.

immediately, matthias's expression morphs into one of concern. his mouth opens slightly as i press my lips together, eyes turning glassy. "what's wrong?"

i shake my head, hating myself for how i never seem to stop crying these days. what happened to me not doing it for years? the feeling was foreign to me when i said goodbye to roy at the justice building. now it seems like a routine.

"it hit me so hard," i reply, voice thick with emotion. i take a shaking breath and bring my knees up to my chest. it takes an immense amount of effort to get the next few words out. "one of us isn't going to make it."

a tear falls. i immediately wipe it away, pressing my lips together harder so i don't break down. matthias pulls me closer to him in a comforting embrace, letting me just be near him. i sit with my legs tucked beneath me, resting into his chest. his strong arms are wrapped around me securely.

after a few seconds he pulls me back and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. his lips linger for a few seconds before he whispers, "you're going to be okay."

i'm not sure what it is. maybe it's him holding me. maybe it's the kiss. maybe it's the tone of his voice. but there's something that makes me actually believe him.

i blink and he's already digging through the pack beside him, rummaging through the items stuffed inside. he produces the half-full water bottle and hands it to me. i quickly swallow just enough to soothe my drying throat, then pass it back to him. after he takes his drink, he shoves the bottle back inside and then pauses, his hands still inside the bag. i'm confused at his hesitance before he pulls out a different bottle with blue markings. i shudder at the sight of it, remembering all the pain i had gone through last time.

"i really don't want to use this," he sighs, "but we have to. i think i've gained a few new cuts on my face."

it's true- his face has been adorned with a few shallow, thin slices from titus and the day's effort. i take the disinfectant from him and shake the bottle. my eyebrows raise expectantly. matthias sighs again and lies down on the ground, shifting to make himself as comfortable as he can on bumpy soil. he puts the blanket in his mouth and nods to signal he's ready.

this time it isn't as bad. since the cuts are so minor, the pain levels are a lot lower than they were the first time. he only stiffens, letting out sharp breaths through his nose as i pat the liquid onto his forehead and cheeks with a cloth. when i'm finished, i start putting the stuff away. matthias removes the blanket and messily pushes it back into the backpack. our hands brush together but i pay no attention to it, swinging the pack across my shoulders.

"i'll carry it this time," i tell him. "we should head to emmanuelle's camp and restock our supplies. i think we need to reevaluate our variables, here."

matthias nods in agreement. he zips the pack shut on my back and picks up his sword from the ground, leading the way again so he can slice through the green once more. i follow shortly behind.

as we hurry back to the camp, my mind wanders. i think about how much the games have changed the both of us. how they made me a tangled mess of emotions. they shadowed matthias' light. put clouds over peeta's sunshine. darkened katniss' mind.

by now my heart is like a patchwork of art; a poorly-sewn quilt made by an unsteady hand. it has been ripped open and re-stitched every time someone close to me dies. it's been stuck with needles and thread and will never be the same again.

matthias is only a band aid over the bruise.

gif is thalia when emmanuelle was killed

________

the last sentence doesnt really make sense but i dont care because MATTHALIA

seriously i wanted them to kiss SO BADLY in this you have no idea. i almost made it happen but then decided not to. trust me, it'll be worth it in the long run!! i promise i'll make it the best first kiss you've ever read

rip emmanuelle u were the bomb sorry u had to die

xoxo,
kristyn

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