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Golden apples tasted like what he thought ambrosia would be like. He had choked down many an apple in an urge of last defense but this time it was pointless. He couldn’t even taste the sickly sweet fruit in his mouth as he choked on nothing but air. The air. Or the lack thereof. His hands flail as if someone would be able to pull him up again. Reaching out for the grace of the Listeners. However, he had never seen them. As far as he was aware they did not have a corporal form.
Death feels different this time around. There isn’t an inherent thirst for violence. No greed for bloodshed. There is an anticipation that falls flat. He knows now that they are going to tell him who to hurt and how to hurt them. They are scripting their own reality TV like the sick beasts they are. Those damn watchers and their damn strings. He is no longer immune. He no longer has the grace of the Listeners on his side. He hasn’t heard a single thing from them in months.
He wakes up on the couch in Jimmy’s living room. He struggles to call it his home now too. He gets up to go to spawn, to wait for Jimmy to poof back there. As he is about to close the front door, a scream comes from Jimmy’s room.
Martyn’s heart sank. He thought maybe for once he was being punished more than his friend and he was fine with it. Five rounds of Jimmy being killed and Martyn witnessing was getting to be a lot. It was getting to be a lot for all their friends who were aware… and even those who weren’t. Joel filled with rage. Grian filled with guilt. Pearl filled with anxiety. Tango filled with dread. Scott filled with pity. Martyn… Martyn filled with hysteria.
By red he was very rarely fully there mentally. But now was different. He had full energy and health. He was clear of mind. He could still be out first and that might be a relief for once. He was obviously being unpunished for how dirty he played the last games. How quickly he killed Imp and Scott. It was ironic that those two were paired together now. It made Martyn’s skin itch. But nowadays everything made Martyn’s skin itch.
Martyn strained, refraining from spewing a line of obscenities as his partner walks into the living room, eyes red from the new life level and from crying. Martyn opened his arms and wordlessly hugged Jimmy, stroking his hair trying to be comforting. Jimmy’s body sat like lead in Martyn’s arms. The other man was exhausted. He was as done with this as Martyn, probably more.
“We really messed up…” Jimmy sniffled.
Martyn didn’t say anything which lead Jimmy to continue, getting angrier at himself. “I followed you in there like an idiot. We brought Lizzie with us. I could’ve gotten my sister killed and she wouldn’t have even known.”
“Her being here is messing with you, isn’t it?”
He shrugged, moving away from the hug. “I am used to it at this point. The irony is this is the least they have influenced my memory in the past five years.”
Martyn stared out the window out at Secret Keeper’s shrine. “They feed off the negativity and you get extra emotional when you remember things better.”
“Why don’t they just let everyone have their memories than?”
Martyn didn’t have the answers. He rarely interacted with the Watchers. The Listeners pulled him away from their grasp as much as possible. He knew the Watchers were pissed at that. Pissed at the fact he won. Pissed at the fact that he invaded into the Empires Realm. Pissed he was who he was. Pissed he somehow gave Jimmy hope most days. He was the rebel. He was the rock in their proverbial shoe.
Martyn went about the rest of his day. He stared at Gem. Gem with her hand engulfed in void. Gem who was new at this. Gem who should be untouched by this. Gem who was odd and unexplainable at least from his perspective.
Martyn went about the rest of his day. He watched Pearl. Pearl who should have hated The End. Pearl who was not letting herself be isolated. Pearl who was gorging on socialization in the face of the Secret Keeper. He couldn’t tell if this was her choosing or theirs. He hoped the socialization would feed her needs in the place of bloodlust and murderous intent.
Martyn went about the rest of his day. He watched Grian getting antsy. Grian who had lost every alliance he had to a gruesome death. Grian who was taking after his sister and self-isolating. Grian who was a social creature. Grian who was blamed for ‘creating’ the games in their circle of knowledge. Grian who caved and moved in with Cleo and Etho. Martyn hoped this wouldn’t kill Cleo, he still had a heart for them.
He went home and laid on the couch that he was using as a bed. Jimmy came home shortly after, he didn’t go to his room. Instead, he lay down on the floor next to the couch and passed out wordlessly. Martyn didn’t sleep that night, worried Jimmy would vanish before his eyes… Choke and die. Wither away. Disappear. Be stolen away. A canary’s neck snapped instead of suffocating from the lack of air. Martyn felt like the canary for once but he was still terrified that Jimmy would not last the night, let alone the next day of the games.