108: Don't you recognise me?

I thought that I’d feel nothing for the remainder of the games, that the loss of both Liam and Xavier would render me emotionless and cold. But the moment my eyes laid on David’s, something inside of me broke free. *He* killed Xavier. *He* had to pay. Those words kept circling in my mind, attempting to overshadow the feeling of emptiness left inside of me. In all honesty, all I wanted was to crawl up into a ball and lose myself in some corner of some dark, desolate room, undisturbed and alone. But I knew, despite how lost I felt and despite the pain which never seemed to want to leave my chest, I had to carry on. As much as I wanted to give up now, to succumb, to let David win and to beg Meera for death I knew that I couldn’t. So many people had died today, so many sacrifices had been made. I wouldn’t disgrace it all by giving in, by giving up. I had to make it all mean something, I had to fight.
“We are down to our two final heirs, Phoenix Ackerman and David Trest. Both have fought well in the games and now, we shall see who will be rewarded with the crown. This is it, this is the final match, long live the eternal monarch, and rest in peace, Diana.”
It would be her final jab at me, her final little attempt to mock me, or so I thought, for in the moment of silence that echoed through the dome thereafter, her voice rang in my head.
*“You fought well Phoenix, very well.”*
Admittedly, I was startled to hear her voice, and as she spoke telepathically, I gazed up at her in astonishment. Blood trickled down her arm and the scent of her true self, wafted in the air. To ordinary vampires, it would be difficult to discern apart from my wolf stink, but I could smell her from miles away, and I could smell him too. It wasn’t just David that was a hybrid. It was Meera too.
*“Y-you’re a hybrid, like me?”*
*“Funny, isn’t it. I spent my previous lifetime hating things like you, only to become just like you. I’ll admit, people tend to hate what they cannot understand, the same goes for me. All of this power, it feels amazing. And I’ll have it all to myself once you’re gone… and once he’s gone too.”*
I removed my eyes from her, instead focussing on David who now also scratched at his wrist, letting his werewolf suppressant-filled blood drain from his body. He eyed me curiously, completely unaware of the conversation happening between Meera and I.
*“You’d kill him, your supposed lover?”*
*“Oh I don’t love him. He’s just a pawn, a tool. Once he attains the crown, I will marry him. Thereafter, I will kill him. Both you and him are the only creatures capable of killing me. After you two die, I’ll be indestructible, all-powerful, everlasting. I’ll be a god to these people.”*
Both he and I? That could only mean that he was also-
*“He was resurrected by the soul stone as well?”*
*“Why Phoenix, don’t you recognise your own father when you see him?”*
*My father?*
And suddenly, it all began to make sense. The reason why it felt as though I *really* knew David, was because I did. How could I have not seen it before? The way he held his eyes, his overpowering strength, his feral behaviour and even his subtle mannerisms. The man before me was Diana’s father, my father. And as this realisation set in, the ringing began.
“Father?” I uttered out in disbelief.
*“Oh, don’t bother. He doesn’t remember you. I made sure of it.”*
I had no idea which emotion now overtook me: Sadness? Joy? Hatred? Longing? I was a whirlwind of raging emotions which, as they conflicted, turned into an internal storm of confusion.
David crouched over and let his claws elongate. He snarled at me, like an animal waiting to attack, a demon waiting to tear apart my soul. And although I should have reacted with as much malice, I couldn’t. The more I stared at the man before me, the more of my father I saw.
“Father?” I called out in hopes of trying to get him to see me, to really see me. But it was no use. He didn’t recognise me. Instead, he lurched forward and cut through my cheek with his claws. I hissed in pain and backed away from him as soon as I could, clutching my cheek. It burned and bled more than it should have. That was when I remembered what David being my father meant. He was a resurrected soul and as such, he was capable of actually killing me, of destroying my soul completely. That was why the celestial had pointed towards him, she had discovered the same thing. The urgency of this information soon began to sink in, and as he chased after me with that feral look on his face, fear started to consume me as I realised something- I didn’t want to die. Despite my earlier convictions, I wanted to live, to see another day, to mourn, to feel pain, to smile, to cry. But at the same time, I didn’t want to kill my father. I’d done enough killing today to last me an eternity.
“Father please! Remember me!” I yelled as I ducked and dodged a punch to the face.
He roared in response and then held his head in his hands before grunting. Suddenly, his conflicted eyes met mine and he shook his head violently. “Stop calling me that!”
He then lunged forward and knocked his elbow into my chest. I fell back a few feet and clutched at my chest tightly. But I hardly had time to recover when I felt the throbbing pain in my jaw as his foot met with the side of it. It was a powerful-enough kick to knock out a tooth or so and as I spat out the mixture of blood and teeth, I knew that if we carried on like this, he would kill me. So, for about the umpteenth time for the day, I had no choice but to fight to survive.
With all of the force I could muster, I sent my fist flying into his stomach. He flew back but scurried to his feet immediately. He scowled, unhappy that I’d landed a hit and then rush forward, crying out as he did. I followed, darting towards him. As we collided, we fell to the ground and rolled over each other, trying to strike one another. He landed a good few scratches on my arms, and I landed a good few on his neck, but it was hardly enough to get him to stop attacking me. Eventually, he was hovering over me, trying to sink his teeth into my neck. I placed my hands on his chest, pushing at him as I did. He was so strong, just as strong as I was, and my movement did nothing except keep him in place. But I took it as my opportunity to try to get through to him.
“Father, it’s me, it’s Diana. Don’t you recognise me?” I asked as I gazed up into his eyes. He shook his head, letting his blue hair cloud his grey eyes.
“I’m not your father!” He growled before trying to snap his teeth at me again.
Eventually I figured out a way to break from him, I let my hands collapse from his chest and he fell on top of me. With all of the strength I could muster, I flipped us over and got over him immediately. He got to his knees and swiped at my ankles, an attempt to trip me. Although I lost my footing, I stumbled backwards and recovered.
“Please father…” I pleaded once more.
But it was like trying to talk to a brick wall. He showed no evidence of cooperation. Instead, all he wanted was to kill me. It was sad to watch him like this, to watch him forget who he was and disappear into someone else. But what was sadder was when his claws aimed for my chest and at just the last second, I turned, grabbed hold of his arm and then pulled him into my hand. I didn’t aim for his heart, instead, my claws found their way to his stomach, piercing through it. Blood gushed from the wound I had inflicted, and he collapsed to his knees and slumped his body against mine. I looked down at him and suddenly, he looked up at me. When he did, I regretted what I had done. Staring up at me, now fully aware of himself, was my father. Blood leaked from his parted lips, and he wore a soft smile.
“Diana… m-my beautiful, beautiful Diana…” He uttered. Immediately, I retracted my claws and he fell to the ground. I sat beside him, tears brimming at my eyes as I clutched onto him.
“Father… I’m so sorry…” I whispered out as I looked down at him. A teardrop fell from my eyes and landed on his cheek. I reached out and attempted to wipe it away, only to have him snatch my hand gently.
He held it in his hands and a memory flashed to mind, one of a younger version of Diana who held her father’s cool hand in hers and smiled up at him as he leaned down and placed his finger gently on the tip of her nose.
“I’m sorry Diana, for everything. I-I didn’t know-” and as he spoke, tears fell from his face and the pained expression he once held now turned into remorse, as though he hated himself for all that he had done.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” I whispered, “you said it yourself, you didn’t know.”
“But I do now.”
We fell into a sense of silence. I knew, like Liam, there was no saving him, that this was it, his final few moments. They were the most bittersweet moments of the day and I basked at the feeling of my father’s hand over mine. As the light began to fade from his eyes, his heartbeat began to slow down and his skin began to turn pale and cold, I wrapped my arms around him and placed my lips gently on his head. We’d never meet again, for his soul would hereafter cease to exist, but surprisingly, I wasn’t afraid of letting him go.
“I-I’m proud of y-you… Diana…” it was what he uttered with his last breath, and as he did, fresh tears fell from my eyes.
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Stay safe! Stay healthy! Sending my love!