Febuwhump Day 10: Killing in Self Defence ft. 3rd Life!Impulse
Summary:
Five will become four. Four will become three. Three will become two. Two will become one.
One will become none.
The 3rd Life arena is finally coming to an end, and Impulse doesn't want to be the one who dies.
TWs: blood, gore, injuries, death, derealisation, nihilism, mercy killing
HURT NO COMFORT. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
I need to get down there. I need to make sure he's okay.
Bdubs. Day One crew. There's five of us left. Me, him, Grian, Scar, and BigB. I need to make sure he's okay.
Grian and Scar are... threatening him? Is there a fight? I can't tell. I need to get down there. I need to get down there now.
I squint at the bright sky, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. The other rests on the hilt of my sword, next to a quiver of arrows. The bowstring of my longbow, the main shaft of the weapon nearly as tall as I am, rests on my shoulder and crosses my chest. I can slip it off easily enough. Its length and thickness are what give it its strength, although it requires a massive draw strength. Regardless, I can't see myself going into battle without it. Besides, its enchantments more than make up for it.
Finally, I spot the ender pearl as it arcs downward toward the trio. I frown with concern, watching Bdubs talk and... barter (?) with Scar and Grian. The teal orb is near the end of its journey, so I brace myself for the eventual warp. It lands, and I feel the familiar tugging on my core as it creates a crease in the fabric of space, forcing me to fall down the fold and hit the ground where it had landed.
"There's someone here," Scar warns them. I can hear the suspicion and fear in his voice as I shake off the inevitable soreness from the teleport. I barely glance at the row of crimson hearts carved into my left forearm, feeling them regenerate and fade slightly.
"It's just me," I call, climbing out of the pit I had landed in. "What's going on boys?"
"Impulse," Bdubs says smoothly – almost too smoothly. Immediately, my heart rate spikes, leaping into my throat as he shows me the golden clock, attached by a chain to his belt. "They gave me a clock."
I look at him incredulously, scanning him from head to toe. A potion rests in his opposite hand, glowing green and swirling in its glass bottle. He tucks away his clock, patting the pocket it goes into.
"They gave me a clock," he says quietly. In a flash, he draws his sword and leaps forward, swinging it in a one-armed arc. It cuts across my chest, causing blood to well up and begin to spill down my shirt. On my left arm, the hearts begin to bleed again, three and a half of the symbols dripping blood from their outlines.
"Whoa!!!" I yell, drawing my sword and parrying his next strike, retaliating through the nearly blinding pain to score a long cut down the arm that holds the potion. He yells in pain as I retreat, creating distance as my basic magic works to clot and heal – partially – the laceration across my chest.
"I need to do this! I'm sorry! They gave me a clock!" Bdubs explains desperately, hurling the potion at my feet.
A poisonous cloud bursts into the air, latching onto my skin. Hives break out where it makes contact, splitting open and burning from their quick progression. I bite back a scream, sheathing my sword and whipping my bow over my head, settling my left hand on the grip. I draw and nock an arrow with my opposite hand, supporting the shaft and point on my finger.
I sight, draw, and release, sending the arrow straight through his abdomen. It punches through his armour and he staggers, hand flying to press against the wound. He scowls, leaping forward with his sword, eyes wild with bloodlust and eagerness for death. I cast my bow to the side, drawing my sword and barely blocking his strike, sparks flying from our blows. My arm is bleeding profusely, only three hearts unopened. I shove him off, lifting my leg and delivering a solid kick to his chest.
"Impulse!" Bdubs screams as I advance on him, sword at the ready. He scrambles backwards, tripping and landing on his back with a loud oof and groans as the arrow moves where it is embedded in his body.
I blink away tears. "Day One crew!" I shout, allowing the hurt, pain, of betrayal to lace my voice. "We were allies and they give you a clock – a clock – and you turn your back on everything. You're betraying me!"
"Says the traitor!" he shoots back, slowly pushing himself up, grip tight on the hilt of his sword. "Whose side are you on anyway, Impulse? Huh? You're one to talk about being a traitor."
I bite my bottom lip, unable to come up with a good response. He leaps back up, health regenerated, and darts back in, thrusting the point of his sword at my chest. I deflect it, the diamond scraping against my chestplate. My sword flashes in the air, then his blade is flying and we're standing chest-to-chest, my sword buried up to its hilt in his chest.
His eyes roll back into his head and he sags, strength leaving his limbs as he dies.
He doesn't disappear.
He's gone. He's dead. Permanently. I look down at my blood-soaked clothing, covered in the life of someone I had referred to as one of my greatest, closest friends in this world. He's dead. I killed him. His blood is on my hands.
I hadn't wanted to, not really. I never wanted to be responsible for the death of one of my friends, no matter how short that friendship lasted. His body slips off my sword, landing with a wet thud in the growing pool of blood. Shakily, I manage to eat a few carrots, my magic picking up the slack and healing my wounds, closing the hives from the poison and sealing the wound across my chest. Finally, my arm stops bleeding, red hearts closing and healing – for the most part.
Bdubs is dead and it's all my fault.
"Well, that was unexpected," Grian says, standing a few feet away. Scar stands just behind him, shirtless grey skin shining with sweat under the afternoon sun. Grian's bright yellow eyes bore into mine, black sclera hiding his real emotions. I shift my gaze to Scar, holding his crimson, bloody, scheming stare. He smiles, then leans over, whispering into the avian's ear. Grian grins maliciously, then leaps forward, thrusting his sword through my defences and piercing my armour, penetrating my chest.
I scream, drawing back and pressing my hand to the wound, blood dripping down my arm as four of the hearts reopen. The drops join the pool on the floor, followed by the stream spouting from my chest. Scar attacks from the side, grinning ghoulishly. I block, jogging backwards to where I had left my bow. My hand closes around the grip as I duck, avoiding a lethal swipe from Grian. I slide backwards, retreating as quickly as I dare, drawing and nocking an arrow in the process.
I sight down its shaft at Scar, shooting it with deadly accuracy. I don't bother to see if it hits and roll out of Grian's way, slinging my bow over my shoulder and catching his sword on mine, pressing into our locked blades. Glancing over his shoulder, I see Scar collapse, arrow buried in his forehead. I blink back tears as Grian's scowl deepens, black eyes meeting mine and staring into my soul.
"Now that was low," he growls as the life drains out of Scar. "You barely gave him a chance."
"Two versus one wasn't fair," I protest, slowly giving ground. He hisses and leaps forward again, sword flying in a dazzling combination. I barely manage to deflect him, moving to the side and sweeping my sword toward his abdomen. It hits with a dull thud, cutting through his armour and embedding itself in his stomach. He screams, blood flooding down his front to pool on the ground. He clutches his hand to it, weakly swinging his sword to graze the side of my leg.
I yank my sword out with a wet squelch and he falls, landing face-down in the bloodstained grass. Slowly, his body dissolves as he returns to his spawn point, his yellow life fading away to red. Three of us left, all on our red lives. We're so close to the end of this hellhole, whatever it is. All fourteen of us just woke up here one day with a mysterious book explaining the "rules".
Fourteen has become three. Three will become two. Two will become one.
What'll happen after that? Will one become none? Survivor's guilt. I think I've heard the tales from somewhere, but I can't remember. I can't remember anything outside of this death arena. I can't remember anything outside of this place that began as a peaceful, beautiful home. A home turned graveyard.
I grab my shovel from my inventory and make my way over to Scar and Bdubs. They are my enemies in the end – they'd tried to kill me, after all – but they deserve to rest well and with dignity. Slowly, I hollow out the earth and drag Bdubs' still-bleeding body into the pit. I cover him with the earth, packing it down securely. I repeat the process for Scar, snapping off the shaft of the arrow before fully burying him.
"Just three left, huh?" BigB's voice whispers from behind me, accompanied by the rasp of a sword being drawn from its sheath.
"Just three," I reply, taking a knee in front of the graves. "Give me a moment, then we can battle it out."
"It's a death game," he responds cryptically. "There are no rules in the end."
I stand, holding my sword by my hip, ready to defend myself. I might as well try to live, try to "win". Maybe the tragic ending will be worth it. Maybe it won't. Either way, I want to see it. I want to see if there was any point to this suffering or if it's all meaningless. See if life has any significance.
We face off, slowly pacing in a circle. Maybe we don't want to fight, but we must. One of us must die so three can become two, and two become one. This torturous agony must end one way or another. We're exhausted, I know it. One can see it in the heavy bags beneath our eyes, in the ways we make our decisions on the spot, unable – unwilling – to make thoughtful decisions.
He leaps towards me, sword raised above his head. Stiffening, I charge forward, thrusting the point of my sword through his throat. He gurgles, arms falling to his side as blood spurts from the wound. I don't have to look at my reflection in the moat to know I'm covered head-to-toe in blood, crimson covering my features, armour, and clothing. Twilight is fading into night as I stand there, looking into his dull, lifeless eyes and supporting his body.
"Congratulations on making it this far," Grian says. I look over BigB's shoulder to see him standing there, blond hair shining in the moonlight. His sword is only iron, pearly white in the silver light of the moon. "This is the end. You put up a good fight, Impulse."
I stare at him, finally letting BigB fall to the ground and slide off my sword. "I'm not done yet," I counter, stepping over the dead man and standing across from him. "What makes you think you're going to win?"
"It's my destiny," he whispers, nearly imperceptible. Blood roars in my ears as I register his cold certainty, and I readjust my grip on my sword, wiping the blood off onto my shorts. He smiles emotionlessly, beginning to walk forward to meet me. Our swords rest at the same level, points wavering as we read each other.
"We aren't too different in the end," he says nonchalantly. "We've both killed people, both temporarily and permanently. We both have a strong desire to live, willing to do whatever it takes to preserve our worthless little lives in the grand game of life. The only difference is that one of us is gonna lose.
"And that's gonna be you, Impulse."
"Not if I have anything to say about it." I grit my teeth and make the first move, jabbing with my sword, feinting to the left, and reversing my movement to cut across his body.
He deflects me easily, twirling his sword before countering. I block, arm shaking from the sheer force of his blow. I bring my other hand to assist, throwing him off and scoring a hit down his side. He yells in pain, turning his momentum into another combo, three of the hearts on his arm leaking blood. His torn sleeves flap in the wind as he delivers double-handed attacks, putting all his energy behind each swing.
I change tactics, deflecting his strikes instead of blocking them. One hit sends him careening past me, and I swing down on his back, cutting him open shoulder to hip. He screams, pitching forward and losing his grip on his sword. He scrambles upright, breathing heavily as the minuscule amount of magic he has left closes his wounds slightly. He's still losing far too much blood.
I can't breathe properly as we lock eyes, holding each other's gazes as we square off again. My breath is coming too fast as I raise my sword, slowly advancing on him, panting as I go. He steps back, tripping over his own feet as he retreats. Tears begin to cut through the blood on his face, dripping saline tracks down his face.
"It's my destiny, Impulse," he pleads, hands clasped in front of him. "You can't take this from me. I was meant to win."
"Sometimes it doesn't play out the way we want," I whisper painfully. "One of us has to live, the other has to die. We're both dying; it's simply based on who goes out first."
"It shouldn't be me," he begs. "Please, Impulse, spare me."
I laugh sadly, raising my sword. "I'll end your pain, Gri. You won't have to deal with it anymore." With that, I swing, slicing through his neck as if it were nothing. His head hits the ground first with a thud, rolling slightly as his body joins it. I choke on the bile in my throat as I look at him, then at the blood coating my sword and saturating my body. All the hearts on my arm, except for one, are bleeding, crimson spattering on the grass as I turn and walk away toward the place we had woken up at. "Spawn", the book called it.
I arrive sooner than I should have and sit in the centre of the small clearing, sword resting on my knees. I don't bother wiping it off as the sun begins to rise, painting vibrant colours across the sky. Gradually, I begin to laugh, choking on blood as my loud, mirthless laughter echoes across the arena.
"I'm dying, aren't I?" I ask. "Throughout this game of life and death, I've been dying. I felt that on day one; still do. I'm being torn apart from the inside. I've always been dying, haven't I? Every second, every minute, just one step closer to my demise.
"There wasn't a point to it, was there? We came here to die, didn't we? Is that all this was? A game of travelling towards our end and whatever there is afterwards. For what? The entertainment of some unseen gods?"
Tears are streaming down my face as I look down at my hands, dried blood cracking on them. My laughter dies out as I take them in, eyes tracing their calluses and wounds, all filled and stained with blood. Tears drip off my chin and land on them, mixing with the bright red painting my skin. On my left arm, the final heart remains untouched as blood beads and drips from the other nine.
I chuckle, picking up my sword and admiring it in the morning light. "Fourteen became one," I murmur, watching the light glint off it and reflect on the green deciduous leaves of the trees around me. "And one becomes none."
Tears run down my face freely as I plunge it into my stomach. The final heart begins to bleed, joining its nine brothers. "Goodbye world." I strain to speak. "It was a good run."
^-^
Hi y'all, hope you enjoyed <3
This one was very fun to write. It definitely deserves to be part of my villain arc over on AO3 (context: I have a series of my bloodiest/saddest fics on AO3 called "Jade's Villain Arc" and I love it so much)
No beta, we die like the empathy I have for my readers (jk, I love y'all /p)