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Gem wakes up to her wrists bound above her head.
She’s— fuck, where is she? The floor’s stone and there’s a bed under her, a white one— there’s a wooden door— torches, a chest at the foot of the bed, and not much else. Okay. Okay.
She’s sitting on the bed, wrists bound above her.
Okay.
There’s red coursing through Gem’s blood and pounding underneath her pulse point, red in her eyes, red in her hands flexing and trying to shimmy their way out of the rope that’s got her tied. Almost everyone else on the server is red, too. So—
So she knows what this is, she’s pretty sure.
And she has a feeling she knows who this is— and if she’s right, it’s just a matter of waiting for Pearl to come back.
She doesn’t have to wait long.
Pearl comes in the wooden door after long enough for Gem to get pretty bored but not long enough for the rope to start to burn too much— the torchlight catches her eyes, lights her up golden, and Gem can’t help the way her heart skips several beats about it. She’s swinging a sword by the handle, and she prowls more than she precisely walks— feral thing barely restrained, her eyes just as brilliant scarlet as her name against the dusky sky. Bloodlust looks good on her. There’s blood in her mouth, spattered over her lips and her chin— blood on her hands, gripping the handle. She holds the sword up a little higher. Sways forward and then back on the balls of her feet, giggles a little, says, “Well, Gem. Got ya right where I want ya, don’t I?”
“I can see that,” says Gem slowly, and she tugs again against the restraints, experimental.
She wonders who Pearl killed while she was knocked out. Wonders about the state of the game— Pearl sits herself on the bed and swings her leg over Gem’s lap, straddling her, and Gem abruptly stops wondering about the game or much of anything at all besides. Pearl.
“Oh,” Gem says, voice pitching up higher. “Uh. Hi, Pearl.”
“Hi, Gem,” Pearl chirps. “How’re the ropes feeling?”
“Like I can’t move my arms,” Gem says, aiming for deadpan. “You could’ve warned me. Did you think I wouldn’t let you tie me up if you warned me?”
Or, okay. She probably wouldn’t have, because red life, but Pearl doesn’t have to know that and Gem doesn’t have to think about how she probably would’ve been tempted, just on the off chance that Pearl would have a good time playing with her food before the bloodlust overflowed.
“Mm,” Pearl hums. “No, Gem, I really don’t think you would’ve. Not if it left you at the mercy of a big scary Pearlie like me. What if I do something crazy, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s— that’s fair,” Gem chokes out, and she struggles against the ropes again, but there isn’t much point. She knows she’s snared. But Pearl is supposed to be her ally right now, at least like, at least like sort of her ally? Murder besties? Sure, it’s tenuous, any alliance between red lives is tenuous, peace balanced on the edge of a blade, you’re my most practical option right now but I’ll kill you the second I think I might have to, red’s hazy, red’s death on your doorstep and you’re inviting her in, and— and with Pearl it’s especially like that— but Gem had thought she had more time, she thought she had at least until, like, Scott died before she’d have to start expecting a sword in her back every time she turned it—
“It’s very fair,” Pearl says,looking at Gem like a wolf looks at a rabbit. Or a deer. “You see, I’m not too sure I’ve got much of that sweet lovely mercy in mind right now.”
Gem shivers and presses back into the wall.
“We’re allies right now,” she stresses. “We’re— Pearl, Grian and Scott are both still alive, we can still team up against them and then it’ll be just the two of us. Think about it— we get Scott alone, ambush him, two on one, right? You’d love to kill Scott, right?”
“That sounds great,” Pearl says, and then she stabs her.
The blade sinks in right below her ribcage, hot, soft flesh parting easily for it, blood bursting around it. Gem chokes. She struggles, jerking against the restraints and Pearl keeps going, seats it all the way to the hilt, and Gem thinks well, alright, that’s it, she’s dying, game’s over—
But she doesn’t die, and Pearl doesn’t exactly do anything to speed up the process. A wound like this won’t be fatal on its own right away, and Gem would expect an enemy who wants her dead to, you know, try and kill her? She should’ve anticipated something like this from Pearl, though— Pearl who’s grinding the blade in deeper, just rocking it back and forth—
Gem sobs, spasming around the wound. “St— Pearl— stop,” she chokes, and she feels sweat start to bead on her upper lip, a tingling wave of heat radiating out across her body, like nerves overloading and sparking off nonsense signals. She pants, blinks back tears, tries dizzily to focus on Pearl’s face. “What are you— ngh— guh— what are you doing—”
Pearl looks lust-drunk, inky pupils blown so wide that Gem nearly can’t see the red of her irises at all, gaze flicking down to where her sword is sheathed in Gem’s body and she just looks at it for a moment, undeniably pleased. The wolf has caught herself a rabbit.
“D’you know what I got my hands on, Gem-Gem,” Pearl says in a low, husky voice.
“Um,” says Gem, trying to think past the pain and past how— oh, fuck, how hot this is, the thrill of it. She can’t help it. Nothing in the universe can ever really match the intensity of the endgame, nothing comes close to that rush, that heat, that lust. She’s on her last life. Everything in her vision is tinged a little bit red.
She says dumbly, “A. A sword.”
Pearl laughs, and it rings out in the night, bright as a bell. Gem blinks up at her, brain fuzzy with pain. “Okay, you’ve got me there,” she says, snickering. “I’ve definitely—” She grips the hilt tighter and thrusts a little and sinks it in further and Gem sobs so hard it’s almost a scream, shuddering violently against the restraints. “—got my hands on a sword, you’ve got that right.”
“Please,” Gem gasps, blinking black spots from her vision, “Pearl, Pearl please, please— we’re still— we’re allies, right— Pearl, please.”
“A healing potion,” is what Pearl says, delighted. “I’ve got my hands on a healing potion—” She flicks through her inventory and then it’s in her hand and she holds it up, and the light from the torches catches on it, the liquid inside, thick and viscous. “—and that means I get to have as much fun as I want with you, and I can make absolutely sure you won’t even die!”
Gem shudders. “Okay,” she croaks, “well, okay, I guess I have to admit that’s better than— nh— than you deciding—”
Pearl kisses her. Gem gasps into it, startled, and that gives Pearl the opportunity to push her tongue past her lips, licking into her mouth and— and— she thrusts the sword again and Gem sobs into the kiss, dizzy and bright red with it, oh god, oh god.
“Well, I still might change my mind,” she murmurs softly against Gem’s lips, and Gem tries not to tremble.
“Anyway, everyone’s asleep,” Pearl says cheerfully, pulling back. “Or they’re planning traps and killing each other— not us, though, they don’t even know where we are. We’ve got all night, Gem.”
“Oh,” Gem says, and she tips her head back until it hits the wall behind her, draws a shaky breath in. Feels a bead of sweat roll down her forehead. “All night. Okay.”
There’s a hand on her chin, then, a thumb rubbing over her cheek and her jawline— Pearl’s long, cool fingers. She grinds down against Gem’s thighs. She says, “Don’t worry. It’ll be fun for both of us.”