I realized Marzipan's goodness far too late. Her neck is snapped so crisply. Her skin washes as white as her hair. She hangs, perfect and dead, like a porcelain doll from the plush velvet balcony. Her fingers are permanently connected to the rope, crusted over in the final moments she attempted to break free. The mouths of my comrades drop as we push into the final day of the Death Round. We are staggered, beaten, bruised, and imperfect. Only for our hopes to crush as we are smacked with an ally murdered. Raven leans over the balcony, her skin is grey. Lily sits behind her, a mask covering her face and a black, lace veil encased over the mask. Her arms fold on her chest, cuddling her heart. Raven growls at us examining Marzipan's corpse .Death glimmers into her red eyes. Tubes are stuck up her nose, tags are attached to her temples, needles connected to artificial blood pump into her. Raven's black hair has grayed. Her wrinkly lips curve into a smile.
"Marzipan has been involved in an accident," Raven announces. Her head graces backward and a warm cackle rips from her throat.
"You killed her!" I scream, slamming my fists into my thighs. My hands pounds the bare flesh of the tops of my thighs.
Maia's hand moves on my shoulder, "Celestia, calm down. It's okay."
"No! What do you know? You don't even know how much Marzipan saved our asses!"
"She was our comrade," Lain shutters, turning his cheek away from her.
"She should've followed the rules," Raven snaps, then she composes herself, "I will announce the Unlucky Thirteenth in her place. Celestia Vandenberg please enter the arena, you will be fighting the Seventh Column of Destruction."
My teammates shoot me looks of pity, but in all honestly, I was expecting I was going to battle her trump card. I majestically enter the pit of the arena. I stand, clad with pride, in my corset. My hair is tied up and ready. But, my boots allow me the surge of power and support my mother gives me. The lights suddenly flash out. When my eyes part open, my thoughts are jumbled by an astounding headache. My arms are held up my two red ribbons, suspending me in the air.
"You've always been my puppet," Raven says, so harsh and close that it sounds like a whisper in my ear. I growl and try to regain more of my focus. A clock blinks in front of me: 60:00. Then it begins to count down, as I notice Echo suspended the same as me right by my side. His eyes lay shut.
"Echo?" I call out, in a cruel attempt to wake him, then I turn to Raven, "is he my partner? Where is my opponent?"
"No."
"Then what do I do? What do I battle?" I whine. Raven peers over the balcony, some type of light shoots in her soul. She licks her dry, cracking lips.
"Echo Alvarado is the Seventh Column of Destruction," Raven answers as Echo's eyes shoot open, an alluring shade of red. "If you want to win with your live, you must beat Echo within the next 59 minutes."
"No!" I cry out, thrashing around in the puppet strings.
"I've always loved a good puppet show!" she laughs, throwing her head back.
"We're done being your puppets! I won't battle her!" Echo screams. The clock ticks another second and Echo thrashes. Like an animal, he escapes the grasp of the ribbons. He lands to the ground, foaming from his mouth, "Orchestra Arrest!" and shoots a dark beam of magic to me. I am unable to swing out of the way. It pierces my wrist, but also blows off the ribbons. I am thrown into the ground, my cheek slamming the arena floor.
The clock ticks 57:53.
"Echo," my vision tries to correct itself.
He runs toward me, caressing my cheek as gentle as I always remember him, "I didn't mean to. I don't want to hurt you, Celestia."
