Entry tags:
the end
Who| Hyperion |
cutshort, Barbara |
acro_bat_ic and Wyatt
the_marshal
What| The ending of the fall of Hyperion! Round 2: Hyperion vs Barbara, followed by Round 3: Hyperion vs Wyatt.
Where| Tomorrowland.
When| Week 8.
Warnings/Notes| Character death, horrible violence, Hyperion being more psychotic than ever
His breath cuts through his throat like barbed wire.
He's dragging himself, back to safety, back to a place where he knows his implants will certainly save him. He almost died at the hands of Ruby, but he ran away, looking like a grotesque version of what he was when he first stepped foot in the arena. There's blood everywhere. His clothes are torn, ripped, twisted, dirty. The lines on his face are deeper than ever, the look in his eyes brighter than a lunatic's gaze.
Hand against a wound that refuses to stop bleeding, he tells himself just needs a little more strength, a little more clarity in his eyes, then everything will be all right. He can win. He can win.
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What| The ending of the fall of Hyperion! Round 2: Hyperion vs Barbara, followed by Round 3: Hyperion vs Wyatt.
Where| Tomorrowland.
When| Week 8.
Warnings/Notes| Character death, horrible violence, Hyperion being more psychotic than ever
His breath cuts through his throat like barbed wire.
He's dragging himself, back to safety, back to a place where he knows his implants will certainly save him. He almost died at the hands of Ruby, but he ran away, looking like a grotesque version of what he was when he first stepped foot in the arena. There's blood everywhere. His clothes are torn, ripped, twisted, dirty. The lines on his face are deeper than ever, the look in his eyes brighter than a lunatic's gaze.
Hand against a wound that refuses to stop bleeding, he tells himself just needs a little more strength, a little more clarity in his eyes, then everything will be all right. He can win. He can win.
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One step than another, toward the duo, reaching out but stumbling toward her knee. There had to be something she could do. Something she could make happen.
It would have sounded more convincing to herself if she could get up off her knees.
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He was not going to survive this. The realization came in a burst of clarity as his heart stuttered beneath his ribs.
And that was all right. Would be just fine... if he could take this bastard down with him.
He let the attack rain over him, let the gloved hands wind around his throat - and then struck back, the blade of his knife disappearing into the man's side.
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It crashed against his jaw, a crack echoed in his ears, wet salt bursting across his tongue as a tooth snapped, and his vision flashed black, the crack of pain, like white lightening, the only thing he see.
The chips of his tooth fell into the back of mouth, slipped in his throat. He struggled to breathe, to swallow....
But he didn't give in.
As his lungs burned and his heart labored, he twisted the knife, determined to fight to the very last.
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"You--bastard--"
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But it's taking all her effort just to move onto her feet.
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Did they matter really? He suspected not.
The familiar cold was creeping over him, his fingers limbs turning to lead, his fingers grasping at air as the knife fell away.
Death was here again.
At last.
His eyes rolled, found the sky, and watched it turn to grey, and then to black, as he sank once more into the nothingness.
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He turns his focus to her again. For a moment it's as though he's ready to move towards her, reach for her face like his bloody fingers have turned into claws, but one step is more than what he can take now. He's weak, has been for days, and now every last piece of energy is gradually being lost in every last exhale.
He refuses to let this be his end. He refuses. But he still falls to his knees, he still stares vaguely like he's suddenly realized he's gone blind. He's losing too much blood. The knife sunk too deep and opened the door to let death inside.
Hyperion's arm reaches out into nothing, and he collapses.
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But that's a lie. It's all she can do to get to her feet. Even if she managed to get to them, she couldn't patch up those wounds - she doesn't know how. Even if she did know how, they'd still have to die. Or kill her.
It's useless.
She's useless.