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Viremia; They yearn for what they fear for
Topic Started: Sep 1 2017, 06:18 AM (520 Views)
Kween in Yella
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Ratchet Consort of Hastur, they/them pronouns pls!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((It's better to live in hell than to die in heaven.))

Sound carried easily through the quarry. Maybe they could hear the rocks skittering as she approached its entrance, just as she could hear their voices echoing through it. There were people somewhere in here, though she couldn't see them among the formations yet and could barely understand them.
Are there?
She could hunt them. They would hear her coming, but she would hear them running. Round and around the formations until someone made a mistake or someone made a sacrifice and everything came to its inevitable end once again. She was certain she could do it.
Sometimes.
It sounded tiring. Everything so far had been tiring. Katarina forced herself past her limits every time they rose to challenge her, but there had to be a moment when you called it enough. There was a difference between refusing to submit to weakness and stubbornly forcing yourself past the point of functionality.
Sometimes I hear and see things that aren't here.
It was a marathon, not a sprint. She'd killed anywhere from three to seven people today. Rest had been earned.
The body moved. Or was breathing. Or something. But it didn't. It wasn't real.
Oh. She'd killed anywhere from three to seven people today.
No. Don't focus on that.
The numbers hadn't had time to settle into her mind now. It wasn't prudent. She couldn't help but take stock as she settled with her back against one of the protruding pillars and listened to the echoes. She'd been shot, and kicked, and punched, and bit more times than she could count, but she hadn't had a single normal conversation. She'd shot at nearly everyone she met in hopes of survival, but she hadn't thought of the home she'd be returning to once. Yet even letting her mind drift that way now was enough to know it wasn't going to change. It wasn't the sort of person she had to be right now. She didn't get to be the person who wondered what her parents thought or hoped her cat was being taken care of or sat and had a nice conversation with a classmate.
Those people died.
She got to be the person who killed anywhere from three to seven people today, because that person got to go home. The promise of a future made every snap decision and irredeemable lapse worth it.
This person lives.
She didn't regret what she'd done.
Repeat it until it's true.
It was nice to pretend though. In a way that she could never acknowledge it was better that she couldn't quite hear what the others were saying. As long as they remained indistinct she could fill in the blanks with parents and pets and anything else the parts of her she wasn't allowed to consciously indulge desired.
TV-2 Kids
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the highest honor i'll ever achieve


Plush Wants To Read Your Dead Things and your Living Things! As of 8/14/2017, the Living Queue is Closed, and the Dead Queue is Open!
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Kween in Yella
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Ratchet Consort of Hastur, they/them pronouns pls!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The voices went on for awhile. It didn't escape her that she could be imagining them. She still hadn't seen anyone yet, and there was a surreal tinge to the world around her.
...
It occurred to her that her only rest for the day was watching-
Stop.
No. No names. No places. No detail. Just another body. Another, and another, and another stacking high in the horizon of her vision. That's all she was allowed.
...
KK felt exhausted. There were no comforting voices here, no cat in her lap or a warm shower to watching the blood and sweat and regret off of her body, but if she closed her eyes for a little while longer there could be. She could rest and forget. Imagine herself somewhere else. Dismiss it all as giving her drive by remembering what she was fighting for.
...
The thing that carried her body forward and wouldn't stop pulling the trigger didn't have time for dreams. It pulled her to her feet away from the voices below and dragged her along in a haze step by step as her surroundings blurred together. She wasn't sure where she was when its impulses abandoned her to collapse in a heap on top of her bag, only that it was dark and there were no more voices to be heard.
...
Silence. Darkness.Survival. Until this would over one would keep leading to another. The world beyond the water might as well be in stasis. Imagining it accomplished nothing.
...
Quiet, reassuring voices picked up in the blackness around her. She could have sworn she felt familiar paws climbing along her leg.
Don't let them in.
Neither went away until she drifted into unconsciousness.

((Katarina Konipaski's next target sighted.))
TV-2 Kids
SCDos Kids

the highest honor i'll ever achieve


Plush Wants To Read Your Dead Things and your Living Things! As of 8/14/2017, the Living Queue is Closed, and the Dead Queue is Open!
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