Falling Through Portals

Yellow Graffiti

Chapter 93

    Annabeth smelled worse than some of the monsters that she had fought. And that was saying something since they were a particular brand of putrid.

    She sat with her back against the rock of a new cave hideaway. Her sore legs were sprawled out as her eyes began to drift close. But they began to wonder to the form in the darkness.

Finnick had already fallen asleep.

Annabeth sighed.

They had lasted seven days. Somehow, they were still alive after being hunted. It had left them breathless every night. About mid-morning Annabeth would begin running and Finnick would hunt for food and clean water. When she wasn't being chased, she was looking for a safe place and anything that she could see was useful. But most times, she would be discovered by the monsters very quickly. If they weren't on her heels, then other tributes were lying in wait for her.

Annabeth flinched as she remembered the dirt covered grip of a mad tribute. He had snatched her from behind after she had tripped one afternoon. The hot sun beat down on her as she felt cold metal at her neck. Her whole body had gone stiff.

"Go ahead and beg," the man whispered in her ear, she shrunk away from him. Grabbing his wrist, she was able to keep him from pressing the blade directly against her neck. With how much he was shaking, it was a wonder he hadn't killed her by accident. "You are not getting away," he laughed as she struggled against him.

Annabeth's hands were slick with sweat as she reached down to her belt where she had positioned a very uncomfortable knife. Pulling it out, she shoved it behind her.

The man howled. Annabeth shuddered as hot blood soaked her clothes. His grip loosened and bile rose in her mouth as he cussed her out. Annabeth broke out of his grip and stumbled on the ground before launching herself into a sprint away from him. Looking back she could see that he had gone onto his knees as his gut was bleeding out onto the dry ground.

When she had finally put enough distance between herself and him, she hid herself in one of their old hide-outs. Her heart beat was all she could hear. Annabeth stared down at the knife. The blood was still dripping off of it. His blood.

She had no way of knowing if he was going to die or not. But she could see his blood on her hands.

Gasping for breath she felt tears roll down her cheeks.

And even though that had been two days ago, new tears rolled down her face.

She had heard a cannon an hour later when he would have bled out. And that night she had peaked up at the sky to see his face staring back at her.

That grief and guilt hit her again as the tears began to roll out faster. She knew that she could dehydrate herself but she couldn't stop herself. Annabeth covered her mouth to keep the sobs from waking Finnick.

Even as she leaned against the stone she could feel his wet blood soak the back of her shirt. It was still stained red.

She had killed him. She had killed another human being.

Annabeth had killed monsters all her life. But never had she killed another person before.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

A warm hand appeared on her shoulder.

Annabeth jumped before she looked up to see Finnick sitting next to her. He opened his arms and she leaned towards him. His arms wrapped around her as she sobbed. Her tears soaked the front of his shirt, but he kept on holding her.