by Erin O'Kane
I have been abused.
I have been kidnapped, drugged, and chained.
I have been taken from my home.
I have had my family tortured and killed in front of me.
I have watched my love die.
I have suffered and they forget...those who have suffered have nothing else left to lose. A grin turns up my lips as I salute the Masters and face the fighters, the numbness fading as that fire grows, the flames racing through my body, sealing my cracks and strengthening me.
The gong sounds.
Nobody moves, as all of the fighters wait to see what I will do. I grip the swords tighter and one of them finally makes the first move, his foot sliding in the sand before he rushes me. I duck under his swing, bring up my sword, and gut him, letting him scream as he drops to the ground behind me. I face the others, stilling again. That blaze still races through me...the pain and power almost too much yet not enough to break free.
One man swipes a dagger towards me, but I grab his wrist, twist it around, and plunge the blade into his neck before stopping again, waiting for the next fighter. They hesitate now, knowing I am stronger and faster than they were expecting, so they start to take me seriously.
Another man comes at me, slower this time, swinging his sword. His eyes alight with glee and his lips tipping up as he circles me.
“I watched him die, you know, saw him scream and cry like a fucking child. I’m betting he begged like a cunt in that last moment, I bet it was agony,” he taunts, and I stagger back slightly, caught off guard. He sees it and moves closer, his grin growing larger. “What was his name…pretzel...prick...no, no...Jessie, wasn’t it?”
His name on this man’s vile lips, the way it rolls from his tongue...a man who has no right to use it, is the last drop of darkness the fire needs to turn into a volcano which erupts inside me.
My swords drop to the sand uselessly beside me, a scream leaving my throat. A battle cry, a grief howl, an endless wave of agony that has the fighters nervous as they glance at each other...and with that scream comes my power, rushing back to the surface, surging through my body with a strength I’ve never felt.
The shackles on my wrists crack but do not fall, no, my power simply explodes through them, like an anchor. It blows out of me like a great storm, each wave a pulse of power. My hair floats around my head in the invisible wind, and my feet lift from the ground until I am dangling in the air with my arms spread out, my head falls back, and my mouth opens in another silent scream. Waves of agony race through me with the force of the power, but I accept it, I welcome it, and when the power leaves me, it uses that to strengthen it.
I hear the screams, I feel the warmth of blood splatter me. Panic fills the air from the fighters and even the crowd, their gasps of shock reaching me, so I open my eyes and gaze around. I’m in the center of the storm...of the hurricane.
Wind rips around me like mini tornadoes. It picks up a fighter and tears him apart. The ground shakes and erupts, vines reaching up and wrapping around another fighter, constricting him until his face turns red as his eyes bulge out of his head and his mouth opens, letting a vine snake down his throat. Rocks move from the ground, tripping the fleeing fighters as they try to escape.
Ice encases a fighter, freezing him to death, and spreads across the sand around him like a giant snowflake. Fire races over the sand, not touching it as it reaches the remaining fighters and creeps up their legs, engulfing them in flames, their screams of agony as they burn to death splitting the air.
Four elements, all coming from me, rip through the training pit and kill all those who stand. My head turns around as if beyond my control, and I meet the wide eyes of Trent where he stands just before the cages. I let everything else but his face go.
I want him to hurt, I want him to die for everything he has put me through. My powers pull back into me, all focused on him, and when he narrows his eyes on me, I smile.
My power shoots out of me like a gun, aiming straight for him. It hits the barrier, the same power which nullifies ours that surrounds the arena, and I watch it crack and shatter just before Trent. My power hits him like a sledgehammer. Ice forms in his eyes and fire burns along his limbs. Vines trap him, keeping him still as the earth moves up, encasing him in a dirty grave as both fire and ice meet in his body, working together to freeze and burn his organs.
He can’t fight, he can’t even scream, and when his head is covered by dirt, I feel him die. My powers pull back, showing his stiff and dead body, which makes me laugh. The sound eerie and echoing around the theatre.
I gaze around again, noting the death I have yielded...no other fighters are left alive. Like a snap, the power returns to me, weaker and sluggish after all the use.
When I’m drained, I drop to the ground gently, and when my toes touch the sand, I slump, falling to the ground, my head hitting the cushioning sand...just before my eyes close, I see the havoc I’ve created and a smile graces my lips.
I slip back into my darkness’s embrace gratefully.
My body hurts, all of me. My mind is aching, the pounding at the back of it making me groan. My legs are weak and shaky, my arms too heavy to lift. My chest is sore, and I am struggling to catch my breath. Cracking open my eyes, I look around in confusion...what happened?
It hits me then...what I did in the arena. My powers, killing them all. Yet I have no regret, none whatsoever. I only wish I could have killed the Masters as well.
A groan slips past my lips and I try to move, only to find myself restricted. Frowning, I look down. My arms and legs are locked in shackles chained to the wall...but so is my neck. A steel band around it is locking me in place in my cell. I test it but it doesn’t budge, and I can’t feel my powers, they must be rebuilding after draining them so completely.
I try to turn my head, but pain cuts through my neck, so I stop, bolted in place, just staring at the iron bars of my cell and the dirty floor that leads up to it. My legs are held at a strange angle and my arms are yanked back tight, almost dislocating them, yet I laugh.
All of this is because they fear me.
They leave me like that for hours as a punishment, and when the others come back to their cells, I see their worried glances. Nixon seems pissed and Xavier...looks proud? I grin at him and he returns it as his cage is slammed shut. I turn my head as much as I can and meet Nixon’s eyes.
“Are they going to kill me?” I ask, knowing I will be punished for that display out there.
He moves as close to the bars as he can and lowers his voice. “I don’t think so, Alcide is trying to charm them right now...if anything, they enjoyed it. It was a hell of a show, baby, and that’s what they want. I’m worried what they will do next time to get that same reaction,” he finishes, and I go cold, my smile disappearing.
He’s right. They will want me to do it again, and when they realise that it will only happen with immense pain...they will get creative.
“Only time will tell,” Xavier adds from my right.
“He’s correct, nothing to do but wait, but, baby? What you did?” Nixon murmurs and shakes his head, a smile turning up his lips. “It was incredible. I have never seen power like that, it was like the elements came to your bidding. Your pain brought them, Rhea.” He stops then, his eyes going far away. “Before this is through, it won’t be the only time.” Then he blinks again focusing on me as I swallow hard.
Not the only time?
I can’t lose anyone else, I can’t. We need to escape and now. I test my shackles. They are cracked and practically useless, but still hanging in place, so it doesn’t draw attention. That’s good, that will work in my favour. I can’t do much until my power recharges, though, so I relax into the wall, blowing out a breath.
“One of you distract me,” I request, almost begging.
“How?” Nixon questions, and Xavier snorts, so I turn to see him pressed against the metal rods, staring at me.
“Talk to her,” he tells Nixon.
“I’m
not good at talking,” he mutters, looking disgruntled. My poor giant.
“Fine, I’ll start.” Xavier huffs, turning away slightly. The cells are filled with chatter, so ours fades in with the rest and no guards come to set me free. I try and get as comfortable as I can. He goes quiet then and I look at him, seeing him struggling for a moment before he seems to come to some sort of decision.
Any time I stop and think, or it goes quiet, Jessie’s face flashes in my mind, spearing pain through my already broken heart, so when he starts talking, I find myself grasping on to his words like a lifeline, pulling me from my grief and heartache.
“I was young when I was brought here, but I still remember my before...my family,” he begins, his voice dark and pained. He’s putting his pain and ghosts on display so I won’t fall back into mine. The least I can do is listen, let him know I understand and feel his pain, after all, that is sometimes all you can do.
“We were farmers. I had a little sister named Sascha, she had the same big brown eyes as my mum, she was her double. We weren’t rich, we were poor by all accounts, but we were close and we had each other. We stayed out of the drama, and since we lived away from everyone, we were safe...or so we thought.” His eyes meet mine then, so filled with pain that I gasp, unable to look away.
“They came late in the night. We heard the horses screaming in the barn, so I went to investigate. When I got there, the doors were blown open and then I heard screams from the house. I ran, I ran so hard I fell over, but it wasn’t fast enough. They were there. They broke my little sister’s neck when she tried to get to my mum, who they had dragged into the other room. My dad tried to fight them off, and when he did, they shot him in the chest. It was horrible, there was so much blood, he didn’t die straight away. When they were finished with my mum, they hung her by the barn outside on the old tree. I had to watch it. They added my dad’s body there next.” He blinks, bringing himself back. “I don’t know why they did it to this day, maybe they thought we were freaks, who knows, but they didn’t kill me. No, they took me and threw me down here. Moulding me, forming me into the fighter, the winner they wanted. Their pawn.
“I hate it, I hate them, but I’ve seen what they are capable of, what they will do, and that was without provocation, so, Rhea, I never tried to escape...then you came in. So fucking filled with fight and life, and I realized I had given up. You talk of freedom, of escape, and for once I’m not filled with dread, but with hope. Hope that this time, with you, we will win. That we can actually be free.”
Tears trail down my face. I am horrified by what this man went through. No wonder he was hard and cold when I first met him. He was trying to protect himself, trying to defend against the hurt.
“I was fourteen in my first fight, barely able to hold the sword they put in my hand. I was pitted against a lanky boy, he was experienced. I was meant to die, but I didn’t. I found something that day, a spark, a power to live. To keep fighting...I just got lost on the way, fighting the wrong thing.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him softly, the words lame and unable to offer any sense of the remorse and grief I feel for this strong man before me, the man resilient enough to keep fighting every day, even when it seemed hopeless.
He shrugs then, downplaying his pain. “You are lucky. I hated you for it at first. You were protected. They sold me that night and most nights after to the highest paying patron, to do whatever they wanted...well, at least until I killed one who went too far, and they realized they couldn’t make me anymore.”
“Good, I’m glad you killed them,” I snap, enraged for him. Was it not enough they took his family and freedom, that they had to take his body as well? “You are a fighter, Xavier, you can fight anything. We will be free and you are coming with us.”
He grins then, a flash of teeth. “Yeah? You want a pet fighter?”
“No, I want you to be part of our family. We are misfits, but together we are so much more. We protect each other and we find our own happiness,” I declare, imploring him to accept. It seems important.
“Family,” he whispers almost distractedly.
“I know. I wasn’t used to it either, but they showed me how much better life is together. Don’t you ever get lonely? Don’t you ever wish there was someone to lean on?”
He looks back at me, but it’s Nixon who answers. “Our family is open to you. We need you as much as you need us,” he states sternly, and I know it’s another of the big guy’s feelings. Xavier, we need him? For what exactly? I don’t ask, since Nixon won’t know either.
“Do I have to perform?” he inquires, teasing almost.
“No.” I try to shrug and wince when the chains dig in. “Do what you want, but come with us?” I ask again.
“Fine, get us out of here, Rhea, and I will follow you anywhere,” he concedes, his eyes serious and intense, so intense I have to look away, licking my lips.
Just then, a bang comes, and I look up as the cell door opens and three guards stream in, led by Tobias. “Don’t try anything or attack us, or we will be forced to lock you back up,” he warns me, and I nod as he steps closer. One of them points a gun at me as the other unlocks the chains and unwinds them from my body until I am free. Then they step away, walking backwards from the cell, and lock it. The two other guards move away, and Tobias spares them a quick glance before looking back at me. “Trent got what he deserved,” he tells me, and then steps away, standing at the end of our row and straightening.
“Immortals, you’re up tomorrow!” Tobias calls.
Why are they warning us tonight? I frown, it’s going to be bad, I know it. Xavier and I share a look.
“We can win,” he says and then he nods. “I want to test my powers.”
“What?” I question.
“If we are to escape, we need to know our powers, I’ve never tested them all. I need to know if it was a fluke that I came back or the real deal, either way, they get a show.”
“Xavier,” I protest, terrified at the idea of losing him, but I won’t analyse why.
“Rhea, let me do this. Tomorrow I will die, but I will come back. I need you to be strong,” he implores me, his hands wrapped around the bars, his eyes hard and forcing me to be tough.
“Okay, okay.” I nod, blowing out a breath.
Tomorrow, tomorrow Xavier will die. I hope he’s right, I hope it wasn’t a fluke. I can’t watch another person I care about die. Our eyes stay locked late into the night, talking without talking, until I finally fall asleep curled up on the back wall.
Tomorrow comes all too soon.
I go through the morning routine like I’m in a bubble. I’m aware of the others on the outside of that bubble, but I can’t hear them. Their voices are muffled as I try to focus on my fight today. I’m cognisant of the anxious stares the guys throw my way as I sit on the bench with my breakfast mostly untouched. I know I should be eating to keep up my strength, but I know I’ll just want to throw it up as soon as we start fighting.
Going through the motions, I focus on keeping my mind on the fight ahead and not on the fears swirling around in the back of my head, or the images that kept waking me up in the middle of the night. I know that if I go into the fight thinking the worst is going to happen, it will. But really, that’s what’s going to happen anyway, right? Xavier is asking me to let him get fatally injured, just to see if his powers really are that of immortality. But what if it doesn’t work?
Jessie’s face passes through my mind and the loss hits me like a blow to the stomach. I can’t lose someone else. I don’t know what Xavier is to me, with the lingering feelings of lust and something else I don’t want to examine right now, but I meant it when I told him he is part of our family.
As usual, the others are led out of their cells first, all of them throwing me worried glances in the process, but I turn away, not wanting to see their faces.
A sharp rapping against the bars on my cell have me spinning around in surprise, seeing a frowning Blain staring at me. “W
hat’s going on?”
“What?” My voice is raspy from lack of use, but I shake my head in confusion.
“Don’t fuck with me. Something’s going on, and you’re going to tell me what it is,” he demands, crossing his arms over his chest, and I know I’m not going to get away without giving him an answer. One of the guards shouts over at us, but Blain ignores him with an expectant expression on his face. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes against the warring emotions that are trying to get a hold of me.
“Xavier is going to test his powers.” The words are quiet, barely a whisper, but Blain’s frown tells me he heard what I said. I can feel Xavier’s eyes on me from the adjoining cell, but he doesn’t say anything.
“What do you mean test? I thought his powers were immortality…” Trailing off, I see the moment he realises what I’m talking about and he turns to glare at the fighter.
“He’s going to get killed on purpose.”
“Shit!” Blain swears, his face morphing into anger as he gestures to me. “You can’t do this, man. What if it doesn’t work and you die? Do you know what that’s going to do to her?”
“I know.” Xavier’s acceptance causes me to shiver, and I see Blain’s eyes narrow on the movement. He opens his mouth to say something, but one of the guards storms in, scanning the room for the missing slave. As soon as he sees him, the guard marches over and points his weapon at Blain’s chest.
“Go,” the guard orders, but Blain keeps his hard gaze on me.
“Don’t get distracted. Do what you need to,” he commands, stumbling as the guard tires of waiting and shoves him in the chest to get him moving. Blain bares his teeth at the guard, and I feel a thrill run through me as I see a feral light in his eyes. What are they doing to us? If we don’t get out of here soon, we might be more animal than human.
“Rhea,” Xavier calls out, dragging my mind from the dangerous, circling thoughts, which are waiting for me to drop my guard so they can crowd my brain. I turn in my cell to face him, my eyes wide as I meet his steady gaze. “It will work. I promise.”