by Tillie Cole
I blinked to break the trance I had fallen into, tucking my head into the bundled linen at my chest to stave off the cold. When I did, I was engulfed by the strong musk scent of 901. My thighs clenched together as the aroma infused my lungs. I closed my eyes, once again seeing him rocking above me, his bulging arms flexing and tensing beside my head.
The sudden sound of the cell door made me jump. When I looked up, a guard was in the doorway. He flicked his chin and ordered, “Move.”
I immediately got to my feet. As he turned to lead me out of this cell, a momentary sense of regret sprouted within me. For a second, I didn’t want to leave. 901 might not want me here, but he was a better alternative than Master. Trepidation ran over my skin as I walked down the familiar hallway toward my quarters. I didn’t want to return to Master. I didn’t want him to hurt me.
I didn’t want him to cherish me, either. His crazed possession was almost as terrifying as his harsh hand.
When we reached my quarters, the guard opened the door and I walked through. My eyes immediately searched the room for Master, to try to foresee what would happen to me today. But I relaxed when from the side room came Maya.
The guard shut the door, and when he did, I smiled. Until I remembered yesterday. Until I remembered that Master had hurt her in the room where I had been given my bracelet.
A sudden sadness propelled my legs to move, and surprising Maya, I wrapped her in my arms. Maya gasped as I held her.
When I drew back, I searched her dark eyes. She appeared uncomfortable and lost.
“Are you okay?” I asked, and she blinked blankly.
“Yes, miss. Why?” she questioned in a timid voice.
Chasing away the lump in my throat, I replied, “Because of yesterday. Because of the way Master hurt you.”
“Hurt me, miss?”
I held up my bracelet and said, “In the room where I received this. He hit you.” I shook my head and knew I was showing my confusion now. I lifted my hand to my head. “It felt wrong to me that he did that.”
Maya shook her head and reached for my hand. “No, miss. It isn’t wrong. Master does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He beats us frequently.” Maya swallowed, then added, “I am a chiri, miss. I have no say in anything that happens in my life.”
I nodded, understanding that I was mistaken, but something in my heart felt off. Like Maya’s statement was false. Like we shouldn’t be treated this way.
A pain ached in my brain when I tried to understand why I had this thought in my mind. I couldn’t remember.
“Come, miss,” Maya said, and led me from the center of the room to the table at the far side. I sat down and she poured me a glass of water. She next placed a plate of food in front of me. Maya went to remove the linen from around my body. I was in the middle of bringing a lump of bread to my mouth, when I dropped it to pull the linen back.
My cheeks flushed under Maya’s raised brows. “I … I just want to stay like this a moment longer,” I said quickly.
Maya nodded dutifully and moved to walk away. I reached for her wrist, and she stopped dead. Not wanting to be alone again, I asked, “Please, stay.” I pointed to the food. “Eat with me.”
Maya shook her head. “I can’t, miss. It’s forbidden.”
A flick of anger burned in my chest, and I pulled out the chair beside me. “Sit down, Maya. Please.”
She glanced over her shoulder to the door, but it was clear. There was no sign of Master or the guards. Maya slowly sat down, then waited for me to speak.
So I told her about last night. About 901.
“Why would he do it?” Maya questioned, confused, when I had finished speaking. “Why would Master give you to his best fighter?” She checked the door again and, when it was clear, said, “Master acts so differently toward you, miss.” Maya’s gaze dropped to stare at the floor like she was thinking things through, then her head snapped up. “Maybe it was why he hurt you so badly the night before last. Because he knew he was giving you away.” She ran her hand over the linen I was still wrapped in and continued. “It was why he ordered you dressed in the transparent fabric. It was so you could seduce the champion.”
“You’re right,” I rasped, her explanation making sense of the Master’s recent actions.
“But why?”
“The guard told him I was a gift. For him being so efficient in the pit.”
Maya leaned forward. “But there are many monebi in the left section of this place. Why would he give you to him? You are the High Mona.”
I rubbed my hand over my forehead. “I don’t know.”
Maya lost her questioning gaze, then placed her hand on my bare arm. When I felt her watching me, I looked her way. “Was it okay, miss? Did … did he hurt you?”
Feeling my cheeks blushing, I shook my head. “No. No,” I repeated, “he didn’t hurt me.”
Maya nodded, then said, “Some of the monebi I have cared for, they have been hurt by the fighters.” She leaned even closer and whispered, “The males are given a drug that sometimes makes them uncontrollable and rough. They lose their minds and only know how to fight and hurt people—including the monebi who are sent in to help calm them down.”
I thought back to 901. I knew he was nothing like that. In fact, he did not seem to be under a drug’s influence at all. “I don’t think this fighter was on anything like that.”
Maya nodded. “Some are on lesser doses if they are compliant. They are given something to make them aggressive and short-tempered, but if they have been here for years, they are accustomed to how we live.”
I soaked in every word, then asked, “How do you know so much, Maya? You are so young?”
Maya flinched, her face contorting at something I had said. “What?” I questioned, and reached for her hand. Her head bowed, avoiding my gaze. “Maya?” I pushed again. She flinched. When she lifted her head, I saw tears fill her eyes. “What is it?”
“You called me by my name,” she hushed out in response.
My stomach plummeted. Squeezing her hand, I said, “Maya is your name.”
Maya shook her head. “No, I’m chiri, I’m a 000. I lost my name when I lost my face. It melted away the same time the acid melted my flesh.”
This time I leaned forward and ducked my eyes until I held her attention. “In this room, you are Maya.” I inhaled slowly through my nose, and the words, “You are someone. You’re more than a number,” spilled from my lips. I suddenly sat up straight when I abruptly pictured a dark cell in my mind, a rough hand brushing over my face to move away sweat-ridden strands of hair. I couldn’t see him, but I heard his voice tell me those exact words. You are someone. You’re more than a number …
“Miss?” Maya questioned worriedly.
I forced a smile and said, “To me, you are Maya.”
A teardrop trickled down her cheek and she whispered, “Thank you.”
I waited until she had found some composure, and repeated my question. “Maya, how do you know so much about what happens in this place?” I rubbed my fingers over my forehead and said, “From what I know, I have spent most of my life here, yet I remember almost nothing. I can barely recall being trained to be a mona.” I turned to face her and said, “Please, explain everything to me. How does this place function?”
Maya said nothing for several moments. I thought she could not tell me, but eventually she spoke. “Miss, when you are a chiri, you are nothing to Master and the Wraiths.” She shrugged. “That is both a blessing and a curse. It takes awhile to be ignored like you don’t even exist. But in this place, I have discovered that it may be the best thing of all. I can walk freely, without suspicion. I also see parts of this Blood Pit that no one else gets to, and hear conversations that others would never hear.” A flicker of a smile pulled on her lips, and she said, “I know a lot about this place because I am a no one.”
“Maya,” I whispered in sympathy.
“The monebi are housed in a section of the pit.” Her eyes dropped, then she confessed nerv
ously, “I have asked some of the older chiri about you. They remember you, miss. They were here when you were trained. Some even assisted you when you were used as a guard’s mona.”
I blanched at that news. “I wasn’t given to the fighters?”
Maya shook her head. “No, miss.” She lowered her voice and said, “Master Arziani had a sister. He sent her away because she was a hindrance to him here in the pit. But the Mistress was part of the drug program. She and her lover helped develop the drugs everyone in this place is given.” Maya swallowed and continued, “She was the one that brought you in as a child. You were part of her personal section. You were used solely for her guards.” Maya shrugged. “I don’t know much else, miss. But I am trying to find out for you. I promise.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying to remember anything about that time. Flashes of that dark room, me and someone else hiding under a bed came to mind. I remembered high walls and being led down some steps. And I remembered …
“I waved,” I whispered, and tried to push my mind to remember more.
“Miss?”
Looking up, the hazy vision fading, I repeated, “I was young, I was taken from something I loved with my entire heart … and I waved. I remember waving.”
A crack felt like it broke across my heart. I felt overcome with emotion. I placed my hand over my chest as if to stop the pain throbbing inside.
“Someone you loved?” she questioned. Feeling the ache build in pressure in my head, I said, “I don’t know.”
Maya handed me the glass of water and I drained the liquid, feeling better when I did. I sat back in my chair, completely exhausted.
Maya clearly saw this and took hold of my hand. She stood up. “Come, miss. You need to rest.”
I let her lead me to the bed, where I climbed in. As soon as my head hit the soft pillow, I drifted off to sleep. The last thing I saw in my mind was a female towering over a boy as I looked back and waved. Beating him, causing him pain as the boy tried to reach me.
A female I knew I recognized.
A female that looked not too dissimilar to Master.
* * *
I glanced in the mirror and stared at the dress I was placed in tonight. It was dark green and made of the same transparent fabric as last night. Maya placed large earrings in my ears and curled my hair until it was pulled to one side and hung over one shoulder.
Master had left me alone all day. When I woke, it was to hear Maya running me a bath. And now as I stood in front of the mirror, I knew I was returning to 901. Or another fighter. According to Maya, Master would never receive me dressed in such a way.
This was purely for seduction.
As Maya ensured my dress was secured at my shoulders, I looked to the large wooden dresser in the corner of the side room. I had pushed the linen from 901’s cell behind it. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to keep it. Unwashed. Unchanged. Today I had slept the best I had since I woke here in the Blood Pit, fully conscious and aware of my surroundings. It was his scent that had kept me safe. I couldn’t explain why, but it was certainly the case.
A guard, just as last night, pounded on the door. “Move!” he ordered, and I followed Maya out the door. She stepped to the side as I followed the guard. When I glanced back, Maya was walking in the opposite direction. I wondered where she stayed when she wasn’t assisting me. I made a mental note to ask.
The same guard from last night led the way, down the same hallway. My heart raced when I saw we were heading for the fighters’ quarters. To 901? I still wasn’t sure. My jeweled sandals padded lightly on the stone floor beneath my feet, and we entered the section of the connected hallways where the fighters resided.
Loud, raucous noises came from my left. The guard suddenly paused. His attention was drawn to the cacophony. My face blanched when I thought we would be taking this route tonight. But the noise quietened when several gunshots sounded. I jumped as the sound of bullets echoed through to where we stood.
The guard, clearly sensing it was safe, pushed forward. Relief reentered my body with every step we took toward the champions’ quarters. In just a few minutes we had reached the secluded cluster of cells. Of course the guard stopped before a familiar cell—the largest.
901’s cell.
The guard opened the door. Needing no instruction, I hurried through, the heavy barred door slamming shut behind me. I could feel the guard hovering close. Lifting my head, I scanned the cell. At first I couldn’t see him, but then, in the far-off corner, was 901. He was exercising on the floor. His arms were lifting his body up and down, his bare torso and back muscles bunching with the effort.
I wasn’t sure if he had heard me enter. But then he stopped and jumped to his feet. And he glared right at me.
I staggered back when a flash of anger crossed his face. His teeth bared. Taken aback at his massive height, I stepped out of the way when he rushed past me to the door. He met the eyes of the guard and snarled, “Again?”
The guard stared at him blankly. “Master’s gift. The way you fucked her last night, I’m surprised you’ve forgotten her pussy this quickly.”
“Why has she returned?” he demanded. “I did what Master wanted. I obeyed.”
The guard responded, “Then I guess he wants you to do it again,” and with that he walked away, leaving us alone together in the cell. I stepped back until my back rested closely against the wall.
My stomach rolled at the tone of his voice. I did what Master wanted. I obeyed …
I squeezed my eyes shut at the hurt those harsh words brought. Then I felt him move past me. I opened my eyes and saw 901 walk back to the darkened section of the cell and commence his exercises. Though this time they were done with much more aggression.
I worked my way along the wall of the cell, then sank down into the corner I had slept in last night. A pit had caved in my stomach at his angry rejection.
901 was a cold, tough-minded warrior. I knew this. I could see this clearly, yet I was hurt also, because this wasn’t my choice, either. I had been ordered here. Ordered to serve him by Master. Like him, I had no choice but to obey.
I clasped my hands together on my raised knees as they began trembling with fear. My gaze fell to the bracelet around my wrist. I fought back tears when I thought of how, sometime tonight, it would inject me with a drug and 901 would have to take me.
I risked a glance to him panting heavily across the room. He was now on his back. His knees were raised as he curled himself into his torso, his abdominal muscles flexing and bulging at the action. When I thought of the drugs that would soon flood my veins, I wished that he would just let me be. A hollow feeling caved in my chest, and this time I prayed that he’d leave me writhing on the floor. Last night I had heard the warrior across the hall tell 901 that if he left me, I could die.
I thought back to the past few weeks trapped under Master’s ever-changing moods, his false affection and now being forced to serve 901 as some kind of punishment to his disobedience. More and more, I felt myself wanting to be left alone. Jailed with a male that I repulsed, I scanned the dank, dark cell. In doing so, I felt a peaceful sensation take root in my heart at the thought of never waking up again once the drugs had taken their evil hold.
A sound at the cell door made me look up. A guard was there, opening the door for an old chiri female who held a tray of food with trembling hands. My eyes widened at the mountain of different foods and the large pitcher of water.
The chiri entered silently and left the food on the floor. She turned without ever meeting my eyes. With a deep exhale, 901 jumped to his feet, cracking his thick neck from side to side as he kept his eyes straight forward.
He walked to the food and dropped to sit in the floor. Without pause, he dived into the pile of food. I watched as he raced through his meal. He had so much food that my mind boggled. I had only ever been fed the tiniest of meals. My stomach growled as I watched him wolf his food down.
901 paused when this sound filled the large room. I bl
ushed in embarrassment when he flicked his harsh eyes my way, a strand of his blond hair falling over his forehead with the quick movement. I didn’t know why, but that fallen piece of light hair made him look almost … approachable?
For a split second, he did not look like the hardened warrior I knew him to be.
901’s cheek twitched in annoyance as my stomach growled again. Dropping his food, he cursed, “Whore.”
Without thinking, I snapped my head up and responded, “Yes, I am a whore. One who wishes she wasn’t handed off to you.”
As the words left my mouth, my eyes widened. Lifting my fingers to my lips, I paled. Out of the corner of my eye I caught 901’s head tip to the side. When I looked up, his angered expression had disappeared, replaced by one of shock.
I replayed his words in my head, then my response. I racked my brain, searching for the answer. Because it wasn’t the native language of Master or the guards. It wasn’t the native language Maya spoke to me in. It was another. A language I knew, one that felt as natural as breathing but one that I had no idea of how or why I could.
I swallowed, shaking my head in confusion at what I had spoken, when 901 said gruffly, “You speak Russian?”
“I am Russian,” I replied automatically. I shifted on the spot, my hand covering my mouth in shock. I dropped it, and whispered, “I am Russian?” My eyebrows pulled down in confusion. I looked up to find 901 watching me—very carefully. Only this time there was something else flickering in his unyielding gaze.
Acceptance.
“Russian,” I hushed out. I inched forward and asked, “What is Russian?”
901 angled his body to face me. Lifting his hand, he tapped it over his chest, right over his heart. “This is Russian. I am Russian.”
He stilled, then used his hand to point between us. “You and I, right now, are speaking Russian.”
It took me a moment to realize that I was still speaking to him in this not-so-strange language. Then, as if plunged back into a dream, I pictured the scarred male from my visions—speaking to me in Russian. You are more than a number … He had spoken to me in Russian. I will free you from this life, I promise. Just hold on …