Piece by piece, Kai crumbled, until he was nearly folded up in the fetal position next to Ren, and then he finally started to sob into the dirt.
He had been so numb, he realized. Too shell-shocked to do anything after seeing Dominiqua and Meena die but try to pick up the pieces and keep going. But Ren-
But Ren.
A part of him had thought that maybe in some way, he hadn't tried hard enough to save the other two. But he'd tried with Ren, felt like some way, somehow, if he just wanted it badly enough, they could pull through. Because it had to matter somehow that he was here for them. It had to make some kind of difference. If it didn't, then why had he even bothered coming down out of that tree, walking out of the cave into the daylight, anything?
Kai dug his fingers into the dirt and snow, his body wracked with shuddering sobs. He'd never cried so hard in his life. Couldn't remember the last time he'd cried at all. Not since he was little, laying holed up in his room and listening to his parents fight. Any time he thought about trying to speak, his throat closed up. All he could do was lay there.
He'd walked away from Salem without taking the gun, and there was still a treasure trove of weapons, prizes from Kitty's murders, laying nearby. He'd loved Ren and done everything he could to save them, and it wasn't enough.
Kai didn't respond outwardly to Kitty's outburst. But he heard.
Vengeance and death. More violence. Neverending.
Nothing about the person who had just died for them.
He didn't lift his head from the ground until long after he'd cried himself out. Eventually it did happen, and he was just left feeling sore and exhausted. Like he had before sleeping. There was a hole in his chest now.
He'd never feel rested again.
"We can't stay here," Kai finally mumbled, speaking more to the ground than to Kitty. "We need to- take them somewhere."
He thought that Ren might like to have been buried next to Meena, actually, but he couldn't imagine taking up the digging bar again. Not now.
Aiskhylos, Agamemnon, line 805
trans. Anne Carson (New York: Faber & Faber, 2009). | https://imgur.com/6KhGLkG | private
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
-
VoltTurtle
- Posts: 1525
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Katelyn's rage could only remain white-hot for so long. In time, it cooled into a black tarball of despair, and soon she was reduced to much the same state as Kai, balled up on the ground and crying her eyes out. Unlike Kai, she was a crybaby, always finding reason to open up the faucets in her eyes and let loose the flood of her stress and sadness onto the world. She thought that her reserves had finally depleted after killing Taylor, but instead they had merely been held back by a dam made of cold insensitivity.
Losing Ren had reduced that dam to rubble. Katelyn was no stranger to grief, but this was far different than any she had felt before. There was a piece of her that Ren had taken with them, when they became friends. It was much the same as the piece that Katelyn took from them, and Kai, and everyone else she ever got close to. These pieces formed little pairs, and with one gone, the other followed. Now that they were dead, there was nothing left to fill the void, and it hurt worse than any wound.
She didn't know how long she spent sobbing into her sleeves right along with Kai, the cold and snow tickling her skin, threatening to seep into her and bring death along with it. It was only when Kai spoke that she remembered that she was in a death game, and that Matthew could decide to come back at any moment.
Sitting up, Katelyn wiped her face off and took a few heavy, deep breaths to steady herself. She didn't stop crying, and likely wouldn't stop crying for a very long time, but her sobbing had turned into quiet, irregular sniffles.
"Y-Yeah," she agreed, her voice weak and hoarse, as she forced herself to stand on unsteady legs. "I'll g-get everything together."
Without another word, Katelyn bottled up all her grief and hate, and got to the task of collecting all the weapons, putting them in her bag or attaching them to her person where possible. When she spotted Ren's, formerly Meena's, shotgun in the snow, she gingerly picked it up and brought it to Kai, before forcing it into his hands.
"K-Keep it loaded," she said. "Don't make the same m-mistake. Pl-Please."
Then, she collected Ren's bag, grabbing their emergency blanket out of it, before dropping it next to Kai as well, an implicit order to collect their supplies, and the ammunition. She left him to that task as she began painstakingly wrapping Ren in the blanket, rolling them into it while trying not to think about how they were now nothing more but dead meat. When she was done, and Ren was ready to be carried, she tried to pick them up by herself, only to fail halfway through and drop them.
"U-um... I think I might n-need help," she croaked. "When you're r-ready."
Losing Ren had reduced that dam to rubble. Katelyn was no stranger to grief, but this was far different than any she had felt before. There was a piece of her that Ren had taken with them, when they became friends. It was much the same as the piece that Katelyn took from them, and Kai, and everyone else she ever got close to. These pieces formed little pairs, and with one gone, the other followed. Now that they were dead, there was nothing left to fill the void, and it hurt worse than any wound.
She didn't know how long she spent sobbing into her sleeves right along with Kai, the cold and snow tickling her skin, threatening to seep into her and bring death along with it. It was only when Kai spoke that she remembered that she was in a death game, and that Matthew could decide to come back at any moment.
Sitting up, Katelyn wiped her face off and took a few heavy, deep breaths to steady herself. She didn't stop crying, and likely wouldn't stop crying for a very long time, but her sobbing had turned into quiet, irregular sniffles.
"Y-Yeah," she agreed, her voice weak and hoarse, as she forced herself to stand on unsteady legs. "I'll g-get everything together."
Without another word, Katelyn bottled up all her grief and hate, and got to the task of collecting all the weapons, putting them in her bag or attaching them to her person where possible. When she spotted Ren's, formerly Meena's, shotgun in the snow, she gingerly picked it up and brought it to Kai, before forcing it into his hands.
"K-Keep it loaded," she said. "Don't make the same m-mistake. Pl-Please."
Then, she collected Ren's bag, grabbing their emergency blanket out of it, before dropping it next to Kai as well, an implicit order to collect their supplies, and the ammunition. She left him to that task as she began painstakingly wrapping Ren in the blanket, rolling them into it while trying not to think about how they were now nothing more but dead meat. When she was done, and Ren was ready to be carried, she tried to pick them up by herself, only to fail halfway through and drop them.
"U-um... I think I might n-need help," she croaked. "When you're r-ready."
Kai had been the one to say that they needed to move, but for another minute or two, he stayed where he was. He breathed in the scent of the earth and the snow and his tears and Ren's blood. He thought about sinking into the ground and never coming up. Burrowing down and down and down until dirt pressed in on all sides. Until he could no longer move. Then he would be safe.
But eventually, he picked himself up. He stood with mechanical motion and walked over to take down the umbrella where it had been knocked askew. Packed everything else but the weapons away. Kicked snow and dirt over the dying remains of their fire to put it out for good.
He stopped and looked at the mound of earth covering Meena, and he thought about how Ren had laid down in it to measure whether it would fit Meena's body. It wasn't something that Kai had made them do, but for a moment as he remembered that, he hated himself so deeply and furiously that-
That for a moment, he thought he maybe did understand some of what Meena had felt. What had consumed him right at the very end.
Then he turned away and went back to work. Move. Get away. Survive.
For a few minutes longer, survive. For whatever good that did.
Kai left the gun for last, laying in the snow where Kitty had dropped it for him. Where she was now struggling with Ren. Ren's body.
"...Trade you," he muttered. His voice was nothing more than a croak. He laid the umbrella and the bags of supplies down and instead crouched to scoop Ren up into his arms. Like he'd done dozens of time before as they laughed and playfully shoved back at him.
The bundle was silent and still as he held it. His muscles ached and protested at more work, but he held it. Held them.
"Let's go." He didn't look at the shotgun still laying on the ground, and he didn't look at Kitty as she picked it up for him before setting out.
((Kai Rosado-Prince and Katelyn Graves continued in The Sound That You Found For Me))
But eventually, he picked himself up. He stood with mechanical motion and walked over to take down the umbrella where it had been knocked askew. Packed everything else but the weapons away. Kicked snow and dirt over the dying remains of their fire to put it out for good.
He stopped and looked at the mound of earth covering Meena, and he thought about how Ren had laid down in it to measure whether it would fit Meena's body. It wasn't something that Kai had made them do, but for a moment as he remembered that, he hated himself so deeply and furiously that-
That for a moment, he thought he maybe did understand some of what Meena had felt. What had consumed him right at the very end.
Then he turned away and went back to work. Move. Get away. Survive.
For a few minutes longer, survive. For whatever good that did.
Kai left the gun for last, laying in the snow where Kitty had dropped it for him. Where she was now struggling with Ren. Ren's body.
"...Trade you," he muttered. His voice was nothing more than a croak. He laid the umbrella and the bags of supplies down and instead crouched to scoop Ren up into his arms. Like he'd done dozens of time before as they laughed and playfully shoved back at him.
The bundle was silent and still as he held it. His muscles ached and protested at more work, but he held it. Held them.
"Let's go." He didn't look at the shotgun still laying on the ground, and he didn't look at Kitty as she picked it up for him before setting out.
((Kai Rosado-Prince and Katelyn Graves continued in The Sound That You Found For Me))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."