𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 - 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘳

― 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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chapter sixteen: how is it that i reacted faster than you, and i'm half dead?

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𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐓'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊. Blood splatters everywhere― across her face, on her clothes, across the side of the mountain she is currently falling off of― everywhere. 

With the wolf's weight no longer holding her down, Visha's journey to the base of Mt. Bloodshed is a relatively quick one. She shuts her eyes, tight. She wonders if, her death by this, is some sort of twisted comeuppance the universe― no, the Capitol― has designed for her for killing the Careers. 

She wonders if death will be quick. A fleeting kiss by the Grim Reaper as he takes her soul into the after-life. 

Does she deserve an after-life? 

Or will her soul float through the layers of the world, searching for a place to rest― a sense of peace― she wasn't destined for? 

Something oddly like tranquility washes over Visha. Maybe she is at peace right now. Maybe, just maybe, her death would mean something good. 

A moment later, that placidity is replaced by something greater. A roaring, screaming, fighting rush of adrenaline. It forces her eyes open. 

She's been falling for too long. 

Visha's body flails in the air as she tries to get a proper visual on her surroundings. She's got to be at least halfway down the mountain by now. If she could sit up, she'd see the lake, hundreds of metres away. 

At last, she sees trees. 

In a last-ditch effort to survive, she reaches out and latches onto one of the branches of a towering pine. Her teeth gnash together as she fights to hold on. Something sharp pierces her stomach. It takes everything in Visha to keep from crying out. She shuts her eyes, tight, and waits. 

Eventually, she loses the sensation of falling. 

Her heart rate starts to slow into something more regular. 

The pain in her stomach grows. 

I'm alive, Visha's eyes flash open. I'm alive? I'm alive. I'm alive! I'M ALIVE! The realisation doesn't come in waves, but moreso as a tsumani. Then, another thought is added to the chant of 'I'm alive': Oh my god, I need to get down. 

So, gritting her teeth, Visha slowly slides her hand down the tree branch. She gently lowers herself so that her feet are resting on a fat log-like branch. From there, she climbs down at the pace of a turtle.