"I knew you had heart," came the mocking laugh from above.
Ellie's ribs ached where David had kicked them. She was pretty sure they were broken. The machete was only a few feet away and she was determined to get it. Or go down fighting. "Y'know, it's okay to give up. Ain't no shame in it," David added, standing over her. Ellie took a moment to breathe and started moving again, crawling across the floor. David chuckled, not quite in disbelief. "I guess not. Just not your style, is it?" He asked as he drove the toe of his boot into her ribs again. Ellie grunted, falling to her side on the floor, panting softly. David pushed her down, onto her stomach and grabbed her hair. Ellie made a faint sound of pain and he pushed her face into the carpet for a moment before pulling her head up.
"You can try beggin'," he offered.
"Fuck you," Ellie scoffed.
David turned her over, hands going around her throat. His grip tightened and Ellie tried to wriggle closer to the booth that the machete was under. "You think you know me? Huh? Well, let me tell you somethin'." His grip tightened further and Ellie struggled to get closer to the booth bench. "You have no idea what I'm capable of!" Ellie's fingers brushed against the plastic grip of the weapon, then arched her shoulder up a little further, to get a good grip on it. Ellie swung, the blade catching David in the forearm. He cried out, rolling off of her and clutched at his arm. Ellie moved quickly, straddling his chest and David barely had a moment to cry out when she brought the blade down again, right in the center of his forehead. He went quiet after the first strike and Ellie kept going.
One. Two. Three. Four. Blood coated the blade and went flying, splattering against the floor and the legs of her jeans. Ellie grunted with each swing. Five. Six. Seven. Blood flung off the blade, soaking into her clothes, falling wet and warm against her face. Eight. Nine. Ten.
[And then her machete hit sand, sinking in a little. Ellie yanked it back out, sending sand flying off to the side. Snow was falling, and Ellie climbed to her feet quickly, getting a brief look at her surroundings. There was a man standing a few feet away, a man she didn't know, and Ellie aimed the machete at him, hands trembling a little. She tightened her hold on the handle. The man tried to approach her, starting to speak in a soothing tone and Ellie would have none of it. She let out a wild yell, swinging the machete. He flinched away, the machete grazing him, but not cutting all the way through his arm. He took a dozen steps back, fiddling with the phone intended for her. He chose the function which put a call out to every Honored Guest.]
Kind and benevolent Honored Guests. One of your own has returned and she is...dangerous. She will not let me approach her, and perhaps one of you could appeal to her?
[He turned the device, showing Ellie, covered in blood and sand, gripping a dirty machete.]
If any of you know her, please, come to the beach and try to calm her down. With that weapon, she is a danger to herself and others. Many thanks.
{Spoilers for late in The Last of Us. Winter, more specifically.}