Sadly, I do not own the Divergent Trilogy, or any of it's characters and dialogue. I am just overly obsessed with the story, and this is what it would of looked like had I had the creativity to actually think up such a wonderful book.
Please, read and review. Let me know what I'm doing right, and wrong. And possibly what you think should happen next? Thanks guys(;
"Can you be any more terrible?" Eric fiercly questioned Al. He was intently glaring at the knife in Al's hand. The way Al held knife was not of one that was comfortable with the weapon in their hand. I know this because thats exacly how I held mine when it was first given to me.
Eric expects Al to be perfect at knife throwing, even though we've only been practicing for a couple hours. He doesn't understand that not everyone is going to be good at everything they are taught, sometimes it takes years of practice to accomplish things, especially something like this.
I really wanted to tell Eric to ease up, but even though I am now a Dauntless initiate, I still have my fears. I'm not saying that I'm afraid of Eric, thats not necessarily it. I'm mainly afraid of what he could do to me. He isn't someone you want to mess with, let alone talk to for that matter. There was something about him that just set me off.
Maybe it was the piercings, and greasy hair that covered a great portion of his face. Maybe it was the way that his mouth curled into a bitter smile when he found a way to push your buttons.
In all honesty though, I think it's the eyes. When you look into them chills creep up your spine. They looked emotionless, yet seemed deadly. They were pitiless orbs, and you couldn't help but wonder if they were a windows to what really lay inside. A souless monster.
Without noticing I stopped throwing, along with the rest of my fellow initiates. All eyes, including mine, were shifted to the direction of Al and Eric.
"Come on, everyone else atleast threw it in the general direction of the target." Eric was egging Al on. Bastard. Al was getting angry, his breath coming out in huffs.
He raises his arm slowly, he can feel eyes on him. He flings his arm back, but his eyes aren't focusing on the target. He is hurridly peaking out the corner of his eye, all too aware that we are all staring. Eric notices this then turns to us, "Why are you all just standing there?"
It wasn't a demand, but it was just as effective. We all scuttled and began throwing our knives once more. Of course I just made a show of it, I felt the need to watch Al. His arm was still in mid throw, he was breathing heavily again. That was part of his problem, he needed to calm down.
Knives were darting towards targets all around him. I could tell he didn't like this stage of training. But, with slight hesitation he threw the knife. It misses the target by a foot.
"How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer?" Eric irritatingly questioned.
The taunting makes Al's face go red, but he throws another knife, and again he misses the target, it hits the wall and falls to the ground in a loud clank.
"What was that?" Eric questioned. I could tell this wasn't leading anywhere good.
"It slipped.." Al says. Eric's eyes scan over Al, then to the knife on the floor. I couldn't help but notice his cruel signature smile forming on his lips. Yes, this was definetly going to turn ugly. Fast.
"Well I think you should go get it," Eric says. What was he doing? Everyone stopped throwing their knives again. Eric clenched his teeth when he noticed us.
"Did I tell you to stop throwing?"
He wasn't serious was he? I quickly got an answer to my question when everyone around me began to throw their knives again. Everyone except for Al that is, who stood there in utter shock. It's funny how we are all training to become Dauntless, yet we are deathly afraid of Eric's wrath.
Actually it's not funny at all, it's shameful.
"Go get it?" Al's eyes grew wide. "But everyone's still throwing." Like Eric cares.
"Is that a problem?" I want to wonder how Eric can do something like this, but then I remember he's an inhumane prick.
"I don't want to get hit." Al said, then gulped. He knew after he said it that Eric would presume he was a coward.
"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you." Eric gives off a slight laugh, but it just doesn't fit with his character. It makes me go cold. "Go fetch your knife."
Al knows that refusing will do no good, but he is more worried about his life then a knife. The look in his eyes tell you he is no longer putting up with this, even if it will cause him to be looked down on by the Dauntless.
"No." A grin covers my face, I can't help it.
"Why not?" Eric's beady eyes are fixed on Al's face. "Are you afraid?"
"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?" says Al. "Yes, actually. I am!"
His mistake is honesty. Had he just refused, Eric may have accepted it. Instead though, stating that he was afraid marks him as a coward. That is something that the Dauntless don't take lightly.
"Everyone stop, clear out the ring!" Eric shouts. I drop the dagger I was holding, it lands with a thud. What has Al gotten himself into? All the intiates greedily swarm around the two.
I turn to see Peter with the same sickly smile plastered on his face. Him and Eric could be brothers. They are the ones that deserve to be punished.
"Stand in front of the target." Eric says. Al puts his head down and slowly trudges to the target. I can't help but wonder what sick thoughts are making way through Eric's mind.
"Four, give me a hand over here." Eric motions towards Four, then lays all the knives on the table in front of him. Four doesn't hide his curiousity, and if I wasn't mistaken his features showed concern. But it was gone in the blink of an eye.
"You will stand there, while Four throws these knives." He pauses and the smile creeps back onto his face. "Until you learn not to flinch." Al's eyes grow wide, and my fingers ball up in fists. He enjoys torturing people, he gets a thrill from it. Repulsive scum.
"Are you sure this is necessary?" Four questions. Finally, someone speaks up.
The two stand in silence, staring at one another. "I'm the one with the authority." Eric reminds Four. "Here, and everywhere else. Remember?" Four sighs slightly, his face tinted red. He mutters something under his breath, and grabs a knife.
Al is sweating through his shirt, he looks as though he may pass out. Four lifts the knife, it glistens off the lights that hang above the arena.
I can feel the rage eating away at my insides, clinging to every fiber of my being. I don't think I've ever been this angry in my life. I've never wanted to hit someone so bad.
I'm angry at Eric for being such a heartless jerk.
I'm angry at Four for giving into Eric's cruelness.
And I'm angry at myself because I wasn't doing anything to stop it.
I can feel my face growing hot. Everyone is anticipating the throw, and I am clenching my teeth trying not to scream. Had I not bitten my fingernails down to the beds, they'd be painfully clawing into my skin.
Fours grip tightens on the knife, he is going to throw it. He is actually going to do it. And Al is going to stand there and take it. I pound my hand with all the force I can muster on the table next to me.
"STOP!" Someone screams, all heads turn. I look around to see where it came from, only to quickly realize that everyone is looking at me. I'm the one that shouted.
I meet Eric's eyes, only to find them boring into mine. "What was that Stiff?" Eric's words are fierce, his stance is ridgid.
I want to punch him right in the face, but instead I find my voice and begin to speak.
"I said, stop," I can't help myself, my mouth just keeps spurting words. "You're yelling at Candor over there to get glasses, maybe you should get a hearing aid." I bit my lip to stop from saying anything else. I can taste the metallic on my tongue.
Snickers come from a few of the initiates surrounding me, and I swear I saw Fours lips twitch up into a small smile. It makes my insides melt a little, but I don't understand why. It's nice to see him smile.
For the most part though, I feel the mouths gaping around me, the eyes widening. Not mine though, my adrenaline is pumping, I'm fearless.
"Watch it Stiff."
I chuckle, why am I doing this? Am I asking to die? I glance at Christina who can decide whether to smile or be frightened by what may happen to her. I give her a look that tells her I'll be fine.
My dart to Four again, he is now giving me a disapproving look. And for some reason that bothers me. He was just smiling, or so I thought, not just two seconds ago.
Suddenly I want to take back everything I said. The look in his eyes is the same one that a father would give to their child if they were acting inappropriately. I don't want him to seem me as a child. But what else would he see me as? How do I want him to view me? I must look away before I feel vulnerable. I can't feel that way, not now. Not after I've already said all this.
But it's almost too late, I already feel ashamed of myself. I will never be seen as an equal in his eyes. I'm just some adolescent punk wreaking unnecessary havoc. My strength is dwindling rapidly. I don't know if I can go through with this now.
"Candor, move. Stiff, take his place." Eric's words break me from my remorseful thoughts. I breathe in a sigh of relief, I almost gave this up.
I am not at all suprised by Eric's command. This is what I almost expected would happen. Al is safe, that's what I wanted.
But now I'm in danger. I sigh as I stand in front of the target, I'm still Abnegation at heart. Suddenly, I am regretting all of this. I don't want to be standing here having knives thrown at me, but I have no choice. I will not let Eric gain the satisfaction of me begging for mercy.
"If you flinch, Al takes your place." Eric states.
Apparently my outburst didn't faze him much. I can't help but feel relief. Now all I had to do was stand here while Four throws knives at my face. Sounds easy.
I let out a hysterical laugh, which makes me look as if I am getting enjoyment out of this. Four raises an eyebrow as if to ask, What are you?
I don't know anymore. That's the truth, I really don't know who I am. I nod towards Eric to tell him I am ready, not that he would care if I was or not. My throat feels dry, Four won't hit me. I don't know if I'm just saying it to comfort myself or if I believe its true.
I stare directly at him now. He looks comfortable with a knife in his hand. I feel a weight being lifted of my shoulder. Four has good aim, he's been doing this for a while now. He won't hit me, I will be fine.
I will not flinch. I will not cower. I will stand here and look into Four's eyes, I will not even look at the knife as it darts toward me. I am Dauntless, and I will show Eric that he is the true coward.
Four shifts his arm back, it won't hit you. He looks at the target instead of me preparing his throw, you must not flinch. He flings his arm foward and the knife heads in my direction, you are no coward. My thoughts were completely correct.
He did not hit me, I did not flinch, and I am no coward. I fold my arms and glance at Eric. "Happy?" I say. He doesn't even look at me. Instead he turns to Four once more, "Again."
"You aren't serious," I question. "I did exactly what you said." Even I know the answer to that one, I shouldn't have said anything.
"Oh, are you done then, Stiff?" Four asks.
I think of Al, how I am doing this for his safety, not mine. I shake my head.
"Four." Eric seems to be giving him permission to throw again, as if he might have said no. I stand there. I keep my hands to my sides, and eyes locked on Four.
"Sure you don't want to give another person a shot Stiff?" Four is taunting me again. Why would he say that? Does he want me to fail? I shake me head.
"Shut up and throw the damn knife." This time my throat isn't dry, I am completely ready. Another knife flies my way, only this time it skims my ear. It doesn't hurt, but I quickly bring my hand up to it. I feel the blood trickling down the side of my face.
I glare directly at Four, he is expressionless. He did it on purpose. My cheeks heat up, I don't allow my mouth to gape because I am not at all surprised. Eric and him are just the same.
He almost tricked me into thinking he was a better person. And for some reason, my heart dropped into my stomach. He wasn't who I thought.I feel hot tears forming in the back of my eyes. I need to get out of here. I don't want them to think I am crying because of my ear. I don't want them to ask me why it is I am even upset because I wouldn't be able to answer
"I really would enjoy staying here to see if the rest of you are as daring as she is," Eric turns to the crowd of initiates in front of me. ", but I believe that is enough of this for today."
He walks up to me and squeezes my shoulder, I clench my teeth. His fingers feel cold and dry. He smiles at as though he is impressed, but his eyes just look like they are bored.
"I'm keeping my eye on you." He adds. I don't return his smile.
I yank my shoulder out of his grip, I am not his to hold. He chuckles, then stares into my eyes. In them I see a warning, he's telling me not to step over the line again. I feel a knot in my throat, I gulp.
He smiles, showing all of his teeth. He knows that I understand him. Turning away he walks to the door, "Get back to work." The doors open, and a faint light can be seen from the hallway. He is gone. Finally.
Everyone is still standing there, staring, gaping. I squint my eyes and look at Four. I shake my head and turn away. I walk back to my table, ignoring the whispers and gossip protruding from the initiates.
Still, everyone is staring at me wondering what I will do. Picking up a knife I close my eyes. Think of Eric. I squeeze my eyes shut. Imagine he is your target. I clench my teeth tightly while squeezing the knife. It's dead silent.
I open my eyes, and look at the target, but all I see is a self righteous bastard. I throw the knife with everything I have. Quickly I turn away, I don't have to look to know I hit the middle.
"I thought he told you to get back to work?" I say to the initiates. They all scatter. This isn't my arena, I am not the leader. But at the moment, no one wants to mess with me.
Four motions for me to come his way. I turn to Christina first and give her a smile. I really am sane. She gets it and smiles widely back, she's proud of me. And for the first time in a while, I'm actually proud of myself as well.