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Norton and Andrew had seemed to agree that they would be doing the rescuing. Tracy the decoding, and Margaretha… They hadn’t said anything about her. It was a little aggravating to her, to be so hastily pushed to the side. Allowing the others all the hard work. Margaretha found herself trying to decode. She found that her fingers fumbled too often on the keys of the cipher machine. She kept messing up, watching as the progress went back more and more. She couldn’t fail. Failing would mean the end. Margaretha exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of everything. Margaretha had deemed herself the healer, not that she had any medical knowledge. She still felt that she knew enough. More than enough in some people’s eyes, but just enough in her own.
Margaretha never felt she had amounted to much, and the way the others had disregarded her contributions only solidified those negative thoughts. She continuously cursed under her breath as she watched the machine spark up. She kept hitting the wrong things! Why was she so useless? Margaretha shook her head. No… She was perfect. Untouchable.
In her past she had always been the image of perfection. Men lusted after her. No one could watch her walk by without saying something, and Margaretha relished in that. People loved her. Everyone sought out her attention. Not that of some schoolgirl, or the girl next door. Men and women alike wanted Margaretha to glance their way. Their doting made her whole body warm with validation she had always sought out but never received. Her one real relationship had been unfulfilling. The man she had thought she loved loathed her. Simply wanting a pretty thing to drag around to every event and profit off of. If someone wanted time with a stunning woman, they would pay for it. Margaretha never saw a dime.
She had always liked nice things, so she went along with it. Sometimes he bought her items she had been eyeing. He would treat it like some amazing event. ”Darling, I got this just for you.” Then the next day she would be pushed upon some other man in the dark of the night. Chided for her naivety. Margaretha knew she shouldn't have trusted so easily, but it was so simple. Not having to pay for everything felt like a blessing. Even if she was paying with her actions, she never saw the money. It was like money wasn’t an object to her. People loved to see Margaretha dance, but not because she was good at it. Margaretha was an excellent dancer, but people just wanted her. Physically her. Not her personality or anything else. The thought was upsetting now, but then again she knew she couldn’t do anything to change it.
That was the past.
Ever since then, people didn’t look at her in that way. The team she had been stuck with at the Manor thought she was just a brainless ditz. A pretty face with nothing else to show for it. Norton had barely looked at her, his dark eyes were firmly affixed on the pale man named Andrew. Margaretha wondered if Andrew had ever seen the light of day. It didn’t seem to matter to Norton. The two men were quiet when apart, but when they were together they spoke in hushed tones.
Was that the love Margaretha had so fiercely sought after?
She didn’t want the meaningless lust. Where people used her for her body and nothing else. Out of frustration she slammed her fist against the cold hard metal of the cipher machine. It made a sound that she knew was heard by everyone in the Manor.
Margaretha blanched, slowly stepping away from the cipher. She wasn’t made for this! She couldn’t do this. She hiccuped, her body shaking. Adjusting the pink hat upon her head, Margaretha continued to move away from the cipher.
It’s fine, she tried to reason with herself. But Margaretha had never truly been fine. No one loved her! The thought plagued her mind even now, as she darted through the maze of gravestones. Could it hear her? She hoped not. Crouching behind a pallet, she looked at the small music box in her hands. If no one else cared for her, at least she had the gift of music with her. Not that it made up for the possible death that awaited her if she failed her escape. It was a simple comfort, something to help her keep her cool. Who would miss her if she died?
The simple answer was no one. Not her family, the man who had used her. Her teammates wouldn’t care. Andrew and Norton seemingly had one another, and Tracy… Well, maybe Tracy would mourn her. The short woman seemed timid, but had spoken some to Margaretha. First, she complimented her hair. ”I wish mine was like yours Marge. It’s so pretty!” No one else really called her Marge. If they had, Margaretha would have told them to stop. It was such an ugly nickname, but it sounded pretty coming from Tracy’s chapped lips.
In the time leading up to the game, she had tried to look after Tracy. Perhaps it was vanity that made Margaretha pretend no one on the team cared for her. Tracy may have, but Margaretha pushed her away. She was always pushing others away. Still, Margaretha tried to care for Tracy. Tracy had spoken about her fallen father and an absent mother, and Margaretha found herself relating heavily to her. She tried to care for the other, but she found herself being trapped in the same patterns. Ones that had come from that cursed man. The one who brought her a world of pain. Tracy wasn’t like him, but Margaretha feared becoming him. So she pulled back.
Was that why Tracy hadn’t suggested a role for Margaretha during their planning? She was beginning to think so. Perhaps Margaretha had gone too quickly through the shift. Her loving nature was replaced by a cold distance. So poor Tracy was left in the dark, to figure things out for herself. Margaretha’s nails scratched at her neck, picking at the drying skin as she hid inside of the rusted locker. One cipher left. She could hold on for one more cipher. She had caused the hunter to be aware of her. Margaretha knew in her reminiscing she had mistyped. Something was wrong, and as always it was her fault. The woman clenched her hands into a fist. She stared out through the slats of the locker. The bugs that had made their home in the ancient metal crawled up her arms and legs. Margaretha wanted to swat at them, but she couldn’t move in fear of altering someone of her position. Margaretha slowly opened the locker, stepping out cautiously.
She could see Tracy as a cipher in the distance, and she ran towards her. They were close! They would surely win. Margaretha watched as Tracy began to work on the machine, Tracy’s eyes landed on her for a moment, and the woman’s face easily gave away her shock. “Marge?” Margaretha nodded.
“The hunter isn’t near me, I think - I think I lost him!” Hearing that made Tracy’s once shocked and almost friendly expression fall.
“What? Are you sure? Did you lead him to me? Marge! We shouldn’t, we - get out of here! You have to! I - I - I can’t run from him! It’ll be too much.” Tears sprung to Tracy’s eyes. The woman had dropped her remote control to the ground, beginning to sob. What was she doing? Margaretha found herself staring in disdain at Tracy. The woman she loved unconditionally was acting so foolishly. What a child! That was exactly what Norton or Andrew or anyone she knew would say to her. Margaretha was being insensitive but she couldn’t help it.
“Tracy, it’s fine. You need to keep doing your job.” Her words were blunt but her actions differed. Margaretha lightly looped her arms around the shorter woman. She hugged her from behind, resting her head on Tracy’s shoulder. “They wanted you to decode Tracy, you’re best at it. Keep doing your job, alright?” Her movements were gentle, handing Tracy her music box. She had two. However, she needed to make sure the other had something. To keep her safe. “Hold onto this for me, we’re gonna get out of here.” She looked to Tracy who looked surprised again, but she nodded tiredly.
“This is the last one, it’s almost finished.” That was when they heard it. Heavy footsteps and a crunching sound of rocks being kicked up. Margaretha glanced at Tracy, she was sure they had just enough time. She prayed they did.
“How close?” Was all she had asked.
“It would be done in maybe… It’s almost there, just needs a touch more.” Margaretha nodded at Tracy’s response.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll lead it away. You finish it and run. Hear me?” She had gently placed a hand on Tracy’s shoulder again, to which Tracy nodded. Once Margaretha had stepped away, the siren of victory went off. They were so close. Now, they just had to reach the gate. Margaretha’s body was trembling as she stepped away from Tracy, seeing the hunter. He was some kind of wheel now, misshapen and confusing. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at it.
“Tracy, run! Get out of here!” She cried out, her eyes watered with tears. It was her or Tracy, and Margaretha refused to take the spot of someone far more deserving. She was sick of living, she had decided she couldn’t love. There was no way for her to have what she wanted. So as Tracy’s slow trot of a run dragged her back, Margaretha tripped. Accidentally. On purpose.
That was when he hit her. Margaretha had barely stood up, before a thin spindle hit her from behind, leaving behind what seemed like a wooden stake.
There was a spike in her back, but she had to move on. If she failed to keep moving, she knew she would be dead. Did she want to die? Yes. It was a harrowing reality to face, but Margaretha had decided she would play the hero. She had always been the one in need of saving, but no one paid her any mind. Margaretha was the useless one. She saw the trap in front of her. Golden spikes sticking up from the ground, waiting to grab her. Instinctively, she hesitated, winding up her beautiful music box.
The intricate carvings that decorated the wooden box always made her feel better. She raised the box to her face, her eyes were welling with tears as she stared at what she considered her only prized possession. Tracy had a lesser version of this, but it was important for the blonde to have. Margaretha used one hand to wipe away the tears trickling down her face, moving to wind up the box. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I could do it, but this is what was meant for me.” She listened as the familiar sound of canned music came out and filled her ears. Margaretha raised her hands above her head for a moment. Perhaps searching for some kind of clarity to come over her. But there wasn’t one. She was so tired of being the problem, that was what she was in her eyes. As she tripped head first into the trap, the spikes cling to her body. Digging into her ribcage. She felt the hunter lift her from the trap, watching as blood dripped from her sides, down her bare legs. It hurt, but she felt like that was what was going to happen. It had to. Everyone else would be free.
Margaretha was placed in the chair, slammed roughly against the seat so hard that the wind was knocked out of her chest. This was the end, right? She watched as the wheel rolled off, leaving her to waste away in the chair.
“Marge!”
The sound of her nickname made Margaretha look around in confusion. There came Tracy and her robot, running alongside each other. “Marge! We’re here,” Tracy had released the woman from the confines of her chair. The music box had been stepped on, crushed by the hunter. “Here, we need to go. Now!” Tracy sounded terrified as she grabbed the raven haired woman’s hand. She didn’t wait for a response, pulling Margaretha along.
Margaretha was in shock. How had Tracy managed to get back to her? Were the others alright? She was too stunned to speak as Tracy began typing the code into the exit gate. “Keep a lookout, I don’t know if he’ll come back.” As the gates began to open, Tracy grabbed her hand. “Come on!”
And then they were out. Margaretha was still in shock as she stood alongside Tracy. Did they really do it? She didn’t know what to say, and simply fell to her knees sobbing. Tracy stared for a moment, crouching beside her. This time, it was Tracy’s slender arms around Margaretha.
“Margie,” she murmured. “Are you alright?” Margaretha shook her head, completely shocked.
“Why would you go back for me?” She asked forlornly. Tracy was confused. “I thought you wouldn’t make it, I was so scared for you Tracy.” That was only part of her distress, she wasn’t going to tell her about the other part. Margaretha was alive now, fate had other things in mind for her than her own wants.
“Marge, we’re a team. You, me, Norton, and Andrew. I couldn’t leave you behind.” She hugged the other tightly. “We won, you’re gonna be okay.”
Slowly, the pair stood up, Tracy keeping Margaretha’s hand in her own. “Oh!” She said, handing the other the music box. “This is for you, if you want I can fix it up. I noticed it wasn’t working well.”
Something about this was perfect. They’d won, and for the first time in a long time, Margaretha felt whole again.