Riot

by Tillie Cole

  “Don’t cry,” I murmured, chasing the tear away with the pad of my thumb. “I will wait. However long it takes, I will wait.”

  The scarred man opened his eyes. Gathering me in his arms, he held me close. My body was tired and I could barely move. But I felt safe in his arms. “How long until they inject me again?” I asked.

  “Soon,” he replied, and his huge body tensed.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed. “One day, I’ll wake and I’ll be free. You will have freed me.”

  “I promise,” he rasped. “You have my word. You’re my blood. I’ll never stop trying.”

  “Miss?” a distant voice whispered. Something touched my arm. “Miss?” the voice spoke again. I fluttered my eyes open, the memory spiraling into a black void.

  I turned my head to the voice, but my vision was blurred. Gentle fingers wiped away the tears. “Miss? Are you okay?”

  I swallowed back the lump in my throat. The vision had been so real. The care of the scarred man, a male who should have scared me, brought me the first sense of peace since I’d awoken in my gilded cage.

  “Yes,” I replied. The chiri sat silently, awaiting my response. I lifted my hand to my head, breathing through the ache in my arm. “My mind keeps showing me things.” I frowned. “I’m never sure if they are real memories or illusions.”

  The chiri nodded, then took hold of my hand. “Miss, you must bathe.” Her eyes dropped to my body, specifically my thighs, which were covered in a mixture of my blood and Master’s release.

  Forcing my legs to move, I slid them over the side of the mattress and held on to the chiri to help me stand. As I swayed on my feet, I leaned against her and used her to walk to the tub. I groaned as I stepped into the hot water; the marks from the ropes burned.

  Gritting my teeth, I sat down and closed my eyes as the steam billowed around me, stinging my sores and soothing my aching muscles.

  The water’s scent was delicious. “What is in the water?” I asked, and opened my eyes to see the chiri dipping a cloth into the water before running it down my arms. I watched as the cloth wiped away the blood. The bruises remained. Nothing could wash those marks away.

  “It’s called lavender, miss. Master requires his High Monas to be bathed in it. It’s his favorite scent.”

  I nodded, then rested my head back against the tub. The chiri washed my body, careful not to touch the bigger, darker bruises. I stared up at her as she worked and asked, “How did you become a chiri?”

  She stilled, then dropping her eyes, she said, “My father sold me to the Wraiths. I was ten.”

  My eyes widened. “Your father sold you?”

  The chiri nodded. The cloth stopped on my arm as she felt the heavy weight of my shocked stare. She sighed. “Starvation forces desperate people do the most despicable things, miss. My mother had died, there were six of us, no food.” She shrugged. “I understood why he did it.” Her gaze lost focus as she continued, “Though I’m sure he had no idea where I would be sent.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, hearing the edge of sadness in her plain words. The chiri flickered a watery smile my way. Only the left side of her mouth lifted, the right too deeply scarred to move. As I studied her tied-back dark hair and her dress, my heart clenched. I asked, “And they raised you to be a chiri?”

  This time, she withdrew her hand, and then, after a pause of several seconds, she shook her head. Eventually she met my eyes and replied, “I was brought in to be a mona … just like you.”

  I stared at her. Then, without intention, my gaze fell upon her scar. Clearly seeing my confusion, she added, “I made the mistake of resisting the training.” She pointed at her disfigured cheek. “This was my punishment.”

  “Why? How?” I asked, feeling a flood of sadness wash through my soul.

  The chiri’s bottom lip trembled, but she pulled herself together enough to answer, “Acid. They threw acid over my face.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “I was punished for rejecting a guard’s advances. So he ensured I would never look beautiful again.” She paused, then added reluctantly, “It was at Master’s instruction. He came to see how the new wave of monebi were progressing. He saw my defiance and decided to make an example of me. He ordered me to stand forward, then instructed the guard I’d refused to ruin my face.”

  Ice crept up my spine. My eyes drifted to my rope-marked wrists, to my heavy bruising and thighs. Yes, I thought. Master is more than capable of ordering such a cruel act.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said in a hushed voice. When I looked up, I saw something new in the chiri’s eyes—a kinship. A common understanding of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Master’s cruelty.

  “What did you do?” the chiri asked, and commenced cleaning my body.

  I dropped my hand into the water, watching as it rippled around me. “I don’t know,” I confessed, repeating the action just for something to do. “He was so angry, his eyes so possessive of me. It was as if he was furious that he wanted me so much. It was as though I was being punished for how much he wanted to take me.” I shook my head. “Which I do not understand. Master has made no secret of how much he wants me since I was elevated to this High Mona status.” I looked to the chiri and asked, “So why, now, does he seem to resent it?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. I could see the confusion I was feeling showcased on her face. Moving to the head of the tub, the chiri made quick work of washing my hair.

  Just as she was rinsing out the soap, I asked, “Do you have a name?” My eyebrows pulled down and I asked, “Do I have a name … I can’t … I can’t remember?”

  The chiri dropped down to crouch by my side. She studied me, seeming to search my face for something. Eventually, her shoulders slumped and she said, “Yes, miss. I once had a name, though I haven’t been called it for many years.” She took in a breath and continued, “You will, too. We all have names, all who are enslaved in this place. We were all someone once, though Master makes quick work of making us forget.”

  “A name,” I whispered, and tried to rack my brain for what I was called. But it was to no avail. The only name I had, the only identity my brain could find was 152. I was 152, I had only ever been 152. “I don’t remember,” I said sadly.

  The chiri went to move, but I reached out and took hold of her arm despite the protests of my aching muscles. “Wait,” I begged. The chiri froze. “Do you remember your name? Do you have a name?”

  The chiri’s face paled, and then I knew. She did. She remembered her name. I sat up as quickly as I could manage and pushed. “What is it? Please, tell me.”

  The chiri shook her head, biting her bottom lip as her eyes glossed over. Her head dipped forward and she said, “I could be killed for telling you, miss. It is forbidden by Master for any of us who remember to speak of it.” Her arm began trembling beneath my touch, and she said, “I know what he is capable of, and although I hate this life, here in this prison, I still want to live. I live for the day we will be free. I remember the outside world. Not all of it, but enough.” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “I remember the sun and the fresh air. I won’t lose hope we’ll get that again.”

  Deflated, I sank back into the water. “I understand,” I said soothingly, and meant it. I would never put her in danger.

  I stayed in the bath for a few more minutes, then the chiri helped me out. As she did every day, she dried my hair and then led me to the seat in the side room, fixing my hair and beautifying my face. I watched her as she picked out a bright red dress. Only this dress was different from the others. It was made of a fabric so sheer that you could see clearly what was underneath.

  As the chiri took my hand for me to stand and then began to wrap me in the dress, securing it at my shoulders, I frowned. Reading my confusion, she said, “Master ordered me to dress you for seduction. I’m to take you to him now.”

  I swallowed in trepidation and replied, “Okay.”

  As the chiri walked toward the door, she suddenly turne
d and stopped dead. I wondered what was wrong. Dropping her chin to touch her chest, she whispered, “Maya.” I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what she had said, when she met my eyes with her own and repeated, “My name … my name is … Maya.”

  I felt warmth swell in my heart. With the revelation of her name, the chiri before me transformed into a young girl. A young girl with a name. She was no longer a “plague,” she was a person.

  Unable to keep from smiling, I let the happiness of her confidence in me show. Maya’s cheeks blushed at this gesture. “It’s beautiful,” I said. Maya’s cheeks reddened even more.

  Stepping closer to her, I reached for her hand and said, “Thank you for telling me. I swear, I will never tell another soul.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, then, checking over her shoulder, turned to me and said, “I don’t know your name, miss. But I heard Master talking about you. He said you were twenty-one years old. I know that isn’t much information, but it’s something. You have an age. That’s more than most in this place have.”

  My pulse sprinted, rushing the blood through my ears. “Twenty-one,” I said quietly. I briefly closed my eyes and repeated with increasing confidence, “Twenty-one. I’m twenty-one.”

  “Yes, miss,” Maya said in support. I had to hold back from taking her in my arms. If I were caught embracing a chiri, it would be punishment for us both.

  “Thank you,” I hushed out.

  Maya bowed her head, then pointed to the door. “We must go, miss. Master will not be happy if we are late.” I glanced down at my sheer dress and felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. The dress was entirely see-through. You could see every part of my naked body underneath. My breasts, but shockingly, my most private area was clearly visible.

  “All monebi here in the pit wear this garment, miss. It is only the High Mona that is covered. To show she is Master’s and Master’s alone.” I nodded in relief, only for fear to spike in its wake.

  “Does this mean I am no longer High Mona? Have I been relegated to being a mona once again?” Pure terror then shot to my heart when I confessed, “I don’t want to be drugged again. I don’t want to forget who I am again.”

  Sympathy flooded Maya’s gaze. “I do not know, miss. I know nothing more than instructed.”

  Before I could respond, there was a loud bang on the door. “Master will be waiting!” We both jumped as a guard shouted. Maya’s eyes grew large and she said, “We must hurry.”

  Steeling my nerves, I followed her out the door, ducking my head when the guard by the door stared lustfully at my state of undress. Maya led me swiftly through a maze of hallways, all dark stone lit only by dim lights, until we arrived at a forked section. Three hallways led to different areas of the pit. Maya headed down the hallway farthest to our left and I dutifully followed. We had walked only a few steps when the hallway changed from stone to sterile white walls, with many lights that almost blinded me.

  I tried to understand what I was seeing, but I couldn’t. When we arrived at a silver door, Maya opened it and I stepped through. A large room lay before me. Several cages were lined along the walls. Then my heart sank when I saw what was inside. Four young boys, appearing to be between six and eighteen years of age, sat in the cages. Three were rocking back and forth, sweating and restless. One was staring straight forward, like he was alive but no longer aware of the world around him.

  I tried to look for Maya for explanation, but she had already crossed the room to another door. I rushed to catch up. As I arrived at the door, Maya had opened it to reveal another room. This one was smaller. A narrow bed lay in the center. Along one of the walls were collars of all shapes and sizes. Thick metal collars. I closed my eyes when an image of the scarred male came to my mind. In my vision, he was wearing a collar. It was wrapped tightly around his neck. Then the vision deepened and in my mind’s eye I heard a hiss spring from the collar, and it tightened around the scarred male’s neck. His muscled neck corded and his blue eyes flared until the blue was eradicated by black.

  Then the scarred male was no longer friendly. He was no longer safe. He was dangerous, becoming the most brutal of killers.

  “Miss?” Maya’s soft voice brought me from my thoughts, and she pointed to the bed. “You must sit on here and wait for Master.”

  I stared at the narrow bed, at its restraints hanging to the sides, and I feared the worst, but I did as instructed. I had just climbed onto the bed when the door opened again and a male in a white coat walked through. He saw me but didn’t even flinch at my state of undress. Instead he walked to the wall housing the collars and took the smallest one from its rack.

  I never moved my eyes from him as he silently worked. My hands were linked on my lap so the male couldn’t see me shake.

  I was so focused on the mental image of the male with the collar that I neither saw nor heard Master enter the room. I knew he had materialized only when I felt a finger drift over my arm and brush over the rope burn on my wrist. I sucked in a sharp breath at the raw tenderness, then my eyes collided with Master’s.

  I quickly bowed my head and saw his feet step as close as they could to the bed. His hand lifted, and I braced for a strike. Unexpectedly, it ran softly down my face. I scrunched up my face in confusion. I had expected the wicked Master from last night. But before me was the gentle and loving male from days ago.

  “Such a beautiful petal,” he whispered tenderly and placed his finger under my chin to raise my head. I did as instructed and lifted my face to look at his.

  Master’s gaze roved down to study my body, his eyes twitching in annoyance when he took in the bruises on my arm. He shook his head and leaning forward, ran his lips over my forehead. “I had no choice. I had to take you that way.” He reared back and said, “You’re so beautiful, too beautiful. I can hardly bear what I’m about to do, what I have to do to make sure my empire stays strong.”

  Pure terror took hold of my senses at his words, and the regretful, sad tone of his voice. Lifting his hand, he cupped my cheeks and stared into my eyes. As always, I could see the crazed possession staring back. He shook his head and licked his lips. “My very own Helen of Troy.” He paused after those words, but I didn’t understand what he meant, or who he was referring to.

  “Your beauty is too coveted, but also extremely useful.” I inhaled a ragged breath, and he added, “And now I must whore you out to an animal.”

  This time my heart kicked into a heady sprint. Whore me out to an animal? My mind raced, trying to piece together what was to happen. Suddenly, Master pushed me back onto the bed and shackled my wrists and feet. I didn’t fight back.

  Every part of me trembled as Master stayed beside me, stroking his hand along my cheek, his blazing, crazed eyes almost undressing me.

  The male in the white coat moved beside me and took hold of my hand in a shackle. He moved up the cuff until my wrist was bare. It took me a moment to see what was in his hand.

  The collar.

  I flinched, imagining it going around my neck. But when I looked closer, I saw that it was too small. It was a bracelet. Then my short-lived sense of relief faded fast when I spotted the inside of the bracelet. It contained small needles, clear pellets of liquid behind each one.

  The male lifted my wrist. Suddenly, he attached the bracelet to my skin and clasped it shut. A scream escaped my throat when the needles pierced my skin, sending a searing pain up my arm.

  “Shh, petal,” Master soothed, as I tried to breathe though the torment. His palm pressed against my forehead and he moved in to nibble my lips with his teeth, then cover them with his own. I whimpered at the unwanted affection, but Master didn’t seem to care.

  When he reared back, he said, “I have to do this. This task you must undertake is bigger than us both.” He gestured around the room. “All of this. Our empire rests on the shoulders of one man.” I tried to understand what he was saying, but the pain was too much.

  “He has no weaknesses. And as much as it incenses me, I need him.
He will win my tournament for me. But first, I need to break him. I must have him fully under my instruction. I need him to fully bend to my will.” He talked to me like I knew what he meant. “My investors expect a show. They expect it to be a close match, not a cull. For that, I need him to obey.” Master’s finger drifted down my chest and stopped at my breast. His fingertip circled my nipple, and his nostrils flared.

  “In all of the years under my command, he has given me no way to fully overpower him.” He let that sentence hang in the air, until he looked to me again and said, “Until you. Until I saw him stare at you. My champion, my cold, unfeeling killer, affected by this face.”

  He nuzzled his cheek against mine and said, “He wants you.” He stilled. In a flash, the cruel soul from last night possessed his being. Snapping his head up, lips curling, he hissed, “My High Mona. My pretty delicate petal. I don’t want to let you go, but it will serve a higher purpose.” His cheeks flushed with excitement. “Then I can own you completely. When my empire is secure, I can have you all day and all night. I will possess you in every possible way.”

  My blood turned cold at his words. Feeling a wetness on my wrist, I glanced over and saw blood trickling downward. Master saw it too and clicked his fingers at Maya, who was hovering like a shadow in the corner. “Clean it, chiri,” he snarled. Maya rushed to the water and wet a cloth, immediately cleaning my wrist. I tried to meet her eyes, but she kept her head down.

  When my wrist was clean, I stared at the silver bracelet and immediately knew it was the drugs. Instead of a single injection, this would give me regular, automatic doses. The male in the white coat quickly moved around the table, unshackling me from the bed. Master helped me stand. When he did, he stepped back and ranged his gaze all over me.

  “Perfection,” he whispered. I could see genuine pride in his expression. Reaching down to his crotch, Master palmed his hardening length. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured. No sooner had his words left his mouth and he withdrew his hand than the ruthless Master of the Blood Pit suddenly reappeared.