WASP [bnha reader insert] [gender neutral]

Part twenty eight [your next performance]

TW: Blood and injury, guns, bullet wounds, detailed descriptions of being impaled, vomiting, etc

Mourning was not something you did ever in your life. You witnessed murder yes, caused it and even were the victim. Your hands were stained top to bottom with other people's blood and tears. But even as you took their life the pain that you felt from committing all those atrocities paled in comparison to the violent pain now thrashing and eating away at your very being.

Henry was dead

It was the harsh and bitter truth. You thought about it before they passes away, yes, Henry looked like they were at death's door ever since you got here. You found yourself examining that thought through and through multiple times before, looking at it from every different angle.

So why did it hurt that much?

Why, when the next day came and your mind rushed in all the memories from your confrontation with the guard did you curl yourself up tighter on the hard stone floor and wail like an animal?

It was inevitable, wasn't it?

It was always meant to be like this. You would survive, and prevail in this soul-crushing world with the brisk breath of immortality pushing air into your lungs no matter what.

And Henry would fade away.

They would collapse under the pressure, shatter into a thousand pieces that you would never be able to arrange back together.

Henry joined the pile of bodies that accumulated under the feet of the facility.

[...]

As you tretched through the dusty hallways, followed by a single guard you found yourself squeezing your fists closed. The sting of your nails piercing the skin of your hands seemed far far away in your mind. A distant echo.

You arrived at the Coliseum and made your way inside without looking at any of the guards. You could say you walked in there almost confidently but you knew that would be a lie. The cheers of the audience greeted you, an angelic chant performed by a hoard of masked demons that above all else desired blood. You looked up at the fluorescent suns, their light cascading down your thin form like a stage light.

It was time for your next performance.

What a cruel little audience you found yourself performing for. They had no sympathy for the pathetic starving artist chained down to the stage.

Something had to be done. Something...something but what?

Your gaze shifted from the audience, not catching anything the announcer was saying. And you froze in terror seeing your opponent walk out the door.

336's shaggy blonde hair looked even paler in the bleak white light, bouncing off of it and creating a hazy halo around her sunken face. Her jaw was clenched tight as she stared back at you with her unseen gaze, lips pressed into a single tense line.

You gaped at them, throat squeezing at the base of your neck in fear.

"You have to be joking..." You whispered. "You!" You called out, pointing at your fellow inmate, voice directed towards the audience. "336 is not in the top three! I can't fight them!"

"SOME CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE SEEING THE RATHER DISAPPOINTING RESULTS OF THE PREVIOUS FIGHT! HAHA! " The announcer's voice echoed across the giant space, you felt his guttural laugh in your bone marrow. "YOU HAVE A CHANCE OF PROVING YOURSELF 572! AND ISN'T THAT JUST AMAZING?"