I threw punch after punch, each strike made the blood seep through the bandages on my wrists more. I winced, trying so hard not to let the pain show on my face and keep my attacks accurate. We had been at it for a long time, two hours at my estimation and we were both getting tired.
"You are slipping up." I heard him mumble, and I dropped low, narrowly avoiding being kicked to the ground by his leg.
"Control your face!" He snarled and I tightened every muscle in my face, making my eyes narrow and completely expressionless. I analyzed his stance after each attack, preparing myself for the next one. Each facial expression he displayed meant something different, each glance or shift of gaze was another clue that would assist me.
Sweat poured down my forehead and neck, beading and rolling down my back as I clenched my hand. It was getting increasingly harder to focus when my fingers were slipping from the amount of blood that had wet my hand.
I switched from using my hands and threw my leg as quickly as I could, hoping to catch him off guard. He caught my leg mid air and threw me to the ground. My shirtless chest hit the ground with a wet and painful smack.
I was on my feet within seconds and scooting backwards, dodging kicks and low punches.
I dove to the side and threw my fist into his ribs, which, to my immense frustration, did absolutely nothing.
I almost crawled around him, looking for an opening as he attacked repeatedly. One of my best assets was the ability to not be hit. I could dodge almost anything he could throw. Attacking was where I lacked skill.
"Hit me." He growled. "Don't run away like a child."
I wasn't stupid; I knew he was baiting me. If I were Alfred I would have jumped into action immediately fists flying, but I waited and dodged. I had to find an opening, I dodged and ducked watching him so closely he began to look nervous and I saw my chance. I lunged forward and punched him swiftly in the stomach.
Arthur fell to the ground.
"Little shite." He muttered and coughed, picking himself up quickly from the ground. "That was a good strike, took you long enough though. You are too slow, if I had a gun you would be dead."
I stayed silent, telling him mentally that if it were I that had the gun he would have been dead before he could bat an eye. His emerald eyes trained on me for a second then shifted away quickly, looking towards the door.
"Your fingers were slipping, when you are injured you need to focus on reserving your energy and only using the injured limb when absolutely necessary, even if it hurts you need to be able to control your facial expressions. If you show weakness you are already marking yourself for death."
He eyed my bloody wrists, four slashes running across the expanse of my pale skin. Sweat mixed in with the blood and ran into the wounds, making it sting dully.
"You had better get that cleaned up before it gets infected, he nodded towards my wrists. "Do you know why you have more than Alfred?" He called softly and I eyed him warily before shaking my head.
"I believe you can be better than the best Matthew, and pain is something you are going to be feeling quite often soon. It is going to be part of your life for a very long time."
I nodded then walked stiffly out of the circle drawn into the hard wood floor that marked the expanse we had been fighting in, thinking about what he said. I passed Alfred almost immediately after the door opened, and he caught my shoulder before I could move any further.
"How'd you do?" He asked, then winced as his wrist brushed against my skin, leaving a bit of blood behind.
"I have no idea why he said we had to do this, it fucking hurts." He said as he examined the two cuts with a scowl. I wanted to tell him, I really did, but I knew how badly Alfred would fare in this lesson as he had very low pain tolerance. He needed to figure this out for himself.
I watched as he squared his shoulders, pointing his shoes neatly towards the door and stepping into the training room, envious of how naïvely confident he was. I doubt anything could shake someone so strong willed.
That was what made Alfred better than me. No matter what Arthur said, I knew I would never amount to much, I was forgotten most of the time, my existence would be completely unmissed if I were to disappear, but I had no where to go.
I walked the many hallways that twined in a complex maze around the building, passing doors of every shape, size, and colour. I realized with a start how loudly my footsteps where with each step; my bare feet slapped against the banal white flooring.
I stopped, letting my head hang and shoulders slump and I leaned on the wall next to me. My fingertips felt heavy and my cuts throbbed, my head hurt and I had floor burns on my back. My heels ached and I rose to stand on the pads of my feet, not letting them touch the ground. I walked like that to the infirmary, yet another door in a sea of other doors.
I didn't make another sound; it drove me mad to hear the bustle of life that burst when I entered the room. People mulled about, not sparing me a glance, they wouldn't have even if they had noticed someone come in.
I was just that way, unnoticeable.
I watched as a small trail of blood made a drop of red land on the floor after leaving my finger, staining the pristine blankness the floor possessed. Clicks of heels and shoes on the floor, murmurs of conversation, laughter and louder voices reverberated in the room and I resisted the urge to cover my ears.
I stepped forward, letting myself sink back down to walk normally again, towards one of the nurses that bustled around. I touched her shoulder lightly and she jumped, spun around with her hand to her throat in surprise.
I watched in fascination as her dilated pupils sunk back to their normal size as she recognized the intricate tattoo branded into the skin of my bare shoulder. Her eyes flashed upwards and she smiled at me. I noted the larger expanse of the left side of the smile in contrast to the right and how her feet angled away from me. She was obviously uncomfortable in my presence.
She guided me without touching me to the bed where I immediately sat down, she looked down at me and I noticed her slight change in posture, she stood a bit taller, she lifted her head a bit more to look down at me. She had felt intimidated by me and my lowering to a level below her had eased her mind some.
"What can I do for you?" She asked in an overly happy voice, she glanced to the left towards the other nurses at the bed beside us. I noted the increase of blinking rate.
I held up my bloody arm and her eyes locked on the wounds, her eyebrows scrunching in disgust as she assed the damage. I quickly concluded that she was a new addition; otherwise she would have been more than accustomed to such sights. The nurse she was glancing at must be her superior as she glanced at her again.
"Right, I can help you with that." She said then hurried off in the opposite direction. I didn't bother looking around the rest of the room, only focusing on tracking the nurse's progress in the retrieval of essential medical utensils. When she started digging in a drawer across the room I looked down to see the blood from the cuts rapidly staining the covers on the bed. I was losing too much blood; that was obvious, I wondered if the nurse had even registered the fact I needed stitches.
The nurse came back to the bed, her gaze moving to and from me rapidly.
"I need stitches." I said quietly, and she jumped again, frightened by the sudden speech.
Her eyes roamed down to the wounds and widened a bit when she saw the amount of blood.
"Yes I suppose you do/" She murmured, almost to herself. She looked to her superior, who finally noticed to both our relief and curried over to see what was going on. My head was feeling a bit light, any more activity and I would surely be indisposed.
I mentally scolded myself for acting so weakly, and for being so stupid as to waste energy on analyzing the nurse attending to me. It was habitual though, as I begun my analysis on the superior nurse.
This woman had her shoulder drawn back and her back was ramrod straight, she walked with purpose and presence, when she came to a stop a few feet from my bed she brought her arms behind herself and her legs were spread apart at a stance.
"What is it you need?" She asked, unlike what the other nurse had asked 'what can I do for you?' she asserted dominance and exuded the aura of control. She was of British descent unlike the first nurse who was very clearly American. I almost compared her with Alfred and how very American he acted but decided against it, I was already fighting off the need to fall into black slumber.
"Ma'am, I believe I can not lose any more blood. I am feeling the affects of blood loss and fighting unconsciousness. I need stitches and maybe a transfusion though I would like to lose consciousness in my quarters if possible, I would rather not be in such a vulnerable position." She nodded professionally and turned to the other nurse.
"Have you readies the supplies for stitches?" Her gaze was penetrating and any confidence from asserting dominance over me had already left as she stood in a completely submissive stance. She looked up at the nurse from a lowered gaze and shook her head in denial.
"No ma'am, I will do that right away." She scurried off to the place where she had disappeared before, looking for supplies. My vision blurred for a few seconds and I blinked slowly, not wanting to let the authoritative and experienced nurse analyze the extent of my condition fully; this was- in a way- part of my training.
The younger nurse returned with the supplies and her superior quickly took them from her, giving me a short apologetic glance. I was surprised by the look, I would have expected this woman to remain impassive to the task. By displaying her sympathy she was reaching out in an emotional level, whether or not she was trying to convey her apologies for the discombobulated nurse or the act of sewing my cuts together was yet to be determined.
She administered the Lidocaine around the wounds, making my arm burn then numb rapidly then got out the small plier-like tool that would help her stitch the flesh together.
The process was done quickly and efficiently, and I watched the entire thing, committing it to memory in case I would ever need it again. She wiped away the excess blood and brought the needle of the I.V. to a vein on the inside of my elbow, which the other nurse had fetched at some point during the stitching. I couldn't help but notice the look of absolute horror she had plastered to her face as she watched and only wonder what she would have to face later in her career.
"This will replace the blood you lost during your training and the time afterward and prevent anemia, but your superior was overly ambitious in the extent of your injuries. You are one of the better ones otherwise Arthur wouldn't have chosen such an extreme amount to endure but a human body can only take so much.
I commend you for your bravery and cool head in this process; I know you have restrained the effects for quite some time."
I didn't nod nor accept her praise, I only watched her as she took a moment to examine my features.
She nodded to herself once then strode away, looking for other places to lend her expertise. I would have to remember this nurse, and the fact that she knew my superior my first name.
The less inexperienced nurse stepped forward, her gaze lingering uncertainly on me.
"Do you mind-" she hesitated, "do you mind my asking how you got those cuts?" She finished, and looked down quickly, pink staining her cheeks.
"For my training we had to be cut, fight and ultimately defeat an opponent without showing any pain on our face. I received four cuts to my wrist while the others got two. I also had to face my superior while the others had to oppose each other."
"Did you win?" She asked excitedly, her eyes widening.
"After a few hours, yes." I said, not looking at her but knowing she looked shocked. It was abnormal for a person to last so long whilst injured.
"What else did you expect? You remember where you are yes?" I looked back to see her nodding slowly, her gaze wandering to the door.
"You can leave." I said, and watched her relax, moving towards the door her entire posture was pleading for. She was even leaning in that direction for god's sake.
I watched the blood enter my body and ran through the different techniques of computer hacking and the art of being a technician. You never knew what it was you needed when training to be an assassin.