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CORA SNOW KNOWS thatbeing a killer is in her blood.
Her own relatives would hardly bat an eyelash at what is expected of her, even prepared to encourage her forward because hey, in their eyes, it's fine (who cares about a bunch of underweight kids anyways?). Her own grandfather has murdered more people than she can possibly imagine, the blood on his hands enough to stain the entire ocean red. Her cousins may be naive to what's going on but Cora doesn't doubt that they would also turn out the same, masking their cruel and indifferent nature with sweet smiles and innocent eyes.
It's a fact that has always managed to get under her skin, rubbing her off the wrong way but never enough that she has actually ever gone against them - to be fair, that would be a pretty stupid move unless she had a death wish. But if there is ever an opportunity to give them the good 'fuck you' they deserve, it's probably now.
But Cora knows she won't take it.
Her whole life she has sworn that she wouldn't turn out like them, replacing the Snow values with her mothers opposing beliefs that had become even more ferocious since Adonis Snow had abandoned her, leaving her alone to suffer the wrath of President Snow. And Cora doesn't want to be a coward like her father, she wants to be a hero, she truly does, but it's pathetic how she won't be.
It's fear, really. Granted, it is a rational fear - most people are afraid of death - but here, it's the kind that propels you to commit horrific acts of unspeakable gore, ripping your humanity apart to leave you with the reality of what you've done. Either way you look at it, you suffer and Cora knows this. But another thing that flows through her blood is weakness.
She's aware that there are others who would call it bravery, even going as far as to let their patriotism describe it as heroic, but Cora sees nothing good about murdering innocent people. President Snows methodical approach to life, however, means that he is never held accountable, the power in his hands never ceasing to diminish. When shit goes downhill, the moment something goes remotely wrong, her grandfather doesn't hesitate to kill someone because that is supposed to make him look strong, a leader prepared to do anything to protect his country.
Cora, of course, disagrees but that belief still resides inside of her. She's heard it at every dinner, every gala and party, every time her father returned home and she hears it now.
Do what you must.
It doesn't matter if it's wrong, if it's selfish or if it's disgusting because if it benefits you than fuck it. Do it. And even if the last thing Cora wants to be is just like them, she also knows just how fucked she is. There is no getting out of this one.
They make a monster out of you and you might as well embrace it.
So, the axe whistles through the air until Cora finally hears a dull thud on the ground.
She tries, believe her, she is trying to force the feeling because she fucking deserves it, only she can't. Cora feels no regret as the severed head rolls towards her, eyes grotesquely lolling backwards.
This is what survival means.
This is what destruction looks like.
Her destruction.
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authors note this is so short and i did preferably want it longer but oh well. the following chapters will hopefully be a lot longer lol
