Chapter Text
Day Three, Morning
The smothering heat of blood spread across Pav's chest as he stared up at the cold, looming tower from the cobbled courtyard. His breaths were growing shallower, shakier now as he was ever more aware of the life literally bleeding out of him. A life wasted, he thought.
Despite lying there dying, he barely registered the Kaiser's blade. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from the back of his head, sticky with clotting blood from when the force of it knocked him to the floor, his skull bouncing off the cold, hard stone.
As he lay fading, his mind flashed back to the men of his village and the trenches. Their whole bodies chattering from shock, chests heaving and panicked hands grasping at entrails that fell like ropes from similar wounds in some vain attempt at survival. Any sane man would be grateful for the lack of agony, but guilt burned a hole in his brain far more painful than the sword.
He deserved more pain. Maybe then, in his final moments he could finally atone for his cowardice, if only he could suffer as they did. A boy on the cusp of manhood, hiding in a tree while his family were beaten, mutilated, obliterated. The least he could have done was die with them like a man.
A crooked smirk twitched at the corner of his bloodied mouth. Well done, Yudin. You failed at two shots of redemption. Couldn't even die right.
He spluttered out something that vaguely resembled a bitter laugh as he closed his eyes in a wince, a measure against the dizziness that was setting in. He was feeling colder now. A tingling numbness was climbing up his hands and feet as if the silence itself was going to swallow him.
He didn't bother to open his eyes again. Instead, he focused on the slowing rhythm of his breathing and let his mind drift back to the river banks of home. The tension that was holding his body and soul together for the past twenty years began to unwind as he lay still.
He was dying.
No.
He was going home.
—---
Before the sun had even risen, Abella was preparing in the speakeasy of the PRHVL Bop. A split lip silently mouthed numbers as she took inventory of the mishmash of supplies sprawled out on the coffee table.
Around her, several others slept. Marina and Levi, barely more than kids, shared the rickety bunk bed opposite the one she was sitting on, while Karin, a fiery reporter, slept above her.
It brought her a little warmth to know they had this sanctuary amidst the horrors. The night before was a totally different story. Marina and Karin were understandably far too disturbed to sleep, and Levi, well, that was a whole different set of issues. She didn't know what ailed him, but from his shaking, sweating and seemingly unending vomiting, it didn't take a genius to know the boy was gravely ill.
As much as it pained her to think about, she doubted he would have even made it this far if Daan hadn't convinced him to follow them back to the bar that had been their safe haven since they reached the city.
With a conscious effort to not disturb them, she packed her bag with light fingers until a creak in the ladder snatched her attention. Immediately, her toned body braced for action, eyes locked on the spotlight that now shone from the entrance hatch.
Nothing more than a pair of expensive (albeit now scuffed) shoes and dubiously fashionable trousers were illuminated by the oil lamps, and her body eased once again.
“Morning, Daan.” She spoke softly as the doctor stepped off the last rung.
“I'd say good morning, but that would be lying.” The lavender haired man gave a half smile as he sat beside her on the thread-bare mattress. An air of tobacco was strong on him, long since replacing the delicate cologne he came to Prehevil wearing. She could hardly bring herself to care when the scents of blood, shit and bile had dominated her senses for the past three days. She gave a polite smile back, with her signature warmth regardless of the dread that weighed heavy on her.
“You know you don't have to go alone.” Daan's voice was deep and raspy from his recent cigarette as his single eye glanced over her supplies. A heavy silence hung in the air while Abella paused her packing.
“We don't know what will happen at the tower. I don't want to risk any more lives.” She stared solemnly into the barely illuminated shape of the pistol in her hand. She had witnessed the deaths of two other contestants - one of which was by her own hand. That was more than enough. She refused to let that twisted jester’s games taint her any further.
“The dream said three days. If I can hold off whatever waits at the tower, you and the others can get back to the train. Besides, those monsters, they're preoccupied when the moon is out. I've got some time.” The first night had baffled her. Once that ominous moon peered from beyond the clouds, the creatures all seemed to… stop. All at once, they ceased their hunting to stare emptily into the night sky.
Daan sat with her words before giving a slow nod. It almost made him nauseous to think about her going out alone, but deep down he knew he was needed here. Levi was in a bad way, and Karin was nursing a nasty infection in her leg. He doubted there was even much help he could offer her, he was barely the most capable of fighters and she had twice the muscle mass he did, it seemed.
“Please be safe, and come to the train as soon as you can. I still need to show you Rondon.” The two shared weak, tired smiles. Abella reached a broad arm around him and pulled him into a side hug, the contact catching the now slightly flustered Daan off guard. Easing into it after a brief moment, he gently patted her forearm that held him.
“I will.”
With that promise, the mechanic rose to her feet and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. She took a moment to glance over the three sleeping faces in the dim light. Surreal, how fond she had grown of these strangers in a matter of days, and how this may be the last time she might ever see them again.
“Be safe.”
“And you.”
—-
“Kaiser!”
A voice echoed out across the plaza, sending Abella ducking behind one of the weathered limestone pillars.
Two gunshots rang out, the sound going straight through her as she clung to the column and out of sight. The sun was rising, and cover was going to be scarce.
In the center of the plaza, two figures stood. The unmistakable yellow shroud of the Kaiser and curiously, the Bremen soldier from the train. The very same who smugly taunted her in the woods when they first arrived. The cold air suspended wisps of gunsmoke from the lieutenant's weapon, but the hooded figure stood unaffected.
Unease coiled in Abella's gut as she strained her ears to hear their conversation without much success. Why would a Bremen soldier of all people dare to oppose their dear leader?
Her whirring thoughts were cut short as a single slash cut through the air and felled the soldier. It was as if the world fell silent once his body hit the floor. And just like that, the Kaiser turned his back on his former lieutenant, and was gone.
She was so close to the tower now, but logic was at war with her nature, and not to mention her curiosity. The blonde spluttered and groaned on the ground, clutching his chest as blood poured out and over his gloved hand as Abella weighed her options in her head.
The route from the bar to the tower was quieter than she anticipated, and there was no visual indicator of anything that waited beyond the heavy door at the base of the spire. Kaiser’s presence here also didn’t go unnoticed by the NLU member. She had heard whisperings about the enigmatic figure - maybe he had a part to play in this awful festival? If anyone had a chance of knowing the answer, it would be one of his ex soldiers.
After a cautionary glance around the plaza, Abella crept out from behind the pillar and kneeled beside the wounded man. Rummaging through her pack, she produced a strip of cloth she had pilfered from the clothing store.
“Sorry, this is going to hurt.” She spoke hastily as she pressed the muslin into the sprawling laceration across his torso. In response to the flash of searing pain, Pav lurched upwards and gripped her arms with a hiss. This protest barely fazed her though, and she packed the wound before pulling free of his grip. That would hopefully stem the bleeding enough for her to grab Daan.
Pav made an attempt to bark at her, a mix of confusion, pain and anger. However, all that came out was a gurgling growl - not that he cared much, she already seemed to be standing again to leave. He laid back, scrunching his eyes tight from the pain movement brought from flexing his slashed muscles. In just a couple of breaths, she was gone.
—
Daan sat by Levi on the floor of the bar’s restroom as he dry-heaved into the toilet, rubbing circles into his sweat-soaked back. The boy hadn’t eaten the whole time he was in their company, and any fluid he forced down didn’t stay down.
“Deep breaths, lad.” He spoke softly, and Levi made a conscious effort to steady his laboured breathing. Daan’s gaze traveled down from the filthy overalls to the soldier’s pale arms, mottled with bruising and obvious track marks. He had a suspicion about what was ailing him.
“Levi, I want you to be honest with me.” The boy tensed.
“Hnngh..?” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes bleary and his choppy hair clinging to his forehead with sweat.
“What have you been taking?”
There was a pregnant pause as Levi dropped his gaze in shame. After a quiet inhale, he swallowed back the nausea.
“The medicine…” He started, still avoiding eye contact. “The army gave us these tubes for pain. When they ran out I got sick, I had to use other stuff and it just kept getting worse.” His words ended off in almost a whimper. Anger boiled in Daan’s gut. He’d seen all this before.
“You’ve been using Heroin, haven’t you?”
“Yes sir…”
The scorn Levi expected didn’t come. Daan sat back on his heels and looked up at the scummy ceiling in thought. Levi opted for the equally scenic scum of the toilet bowl as silence hung between them.
“Stay there, I’ve got something that will help.” The doctor spoke softly, hoisting himself up on the broken sink basin and dusting off his trousers before leaving to fetch what Levi hoped was a miraculous cure.