Kyra woke with a start, her chest contracting as her lungs struggled against her body to take in the oxygen required to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her head pounded and a sharp pain crawled up her spine as she jolted upright into a sitting position. Her right arm was raised slightly above her head, held captive by a steel shackle attached to the cold metal wall behind her. Her pupils dilated, as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness that surrounded her. In all her commotion, Kyra kicked her leg, knocking over a metal bowl that was laying beside her.
"Who's there?" A low, raspy voice growled, startled by the sound. Kyra glanced around frantically, trying to find the source of the voice. Soon her eyes landed on a large, dark figure of a man in the opposite corner of the room. "I know you're there." He coughed, his voice much softer than before. "I will not hurt you." Kyra kept quiet, not sure on whether to answer him or not. She never trusted strangers, and the situation she was in now caused her to be more untrustworthy. Sweat poured down the side of her face, she pulled harder, trying to free her hand as much as possible. Pained shot up her arm as it felt as the metal trapping her hand was crushing her bones as she tried to slip from its grip. There's no use, she told herself.
Sighing, Kyra tried to speak. "Kyra." Her throat burning at the attempt to speak. "Kyra kom Trikru." The man's eyebrows raised. She was one of him. A 'Grounder' as the Skaikru called it. She was a part of his clan.
"Trikru?" He repeated. "Ai laik Linkon. Linkon kom Trikru. Gona." {{"I am Lincoln. Lincoln from Trikru. Warrior."}} He struggled, forcing the words out. It felt like thousands of tiny needles pricking the inside of his throat. Kyra was relieved, she had feared it was one of them, Skaikru. But from the man's slight accent, and how easy her language flowed from his lips, she knew that to not be true. He was one of her.
"Where-" Kyra breathed. With every muscle, she could feel her body losing energy. The pain she felt in her head was worsening. "Where are we?" She managed, barely audible. She leaned her head back, resting against the wall behind her, her eyelids slowly drifted downward.
Before Lincoln had to time to answer, the large metal door swung open forcefully. Light instantly blinding both of their eyes. A hiss escaped Kyra's lips, her free hand shielding her eyes from the harsh light. An average size man stood in the doorway wearing a dark uniform, a handgun strapped to his belt. His curly hair hung in front of his eyes. Two more men stood behind him, one gun pointing at both of the prisoners. Slowly the curly haired boy began walking towards Kyra, she lowered her hand from her face, glaring up at the man.
"Release her." He ordered, his hands folded behind his back, his chin lifted high, showing authority. Kyra's eyebrows scrunched together, her body shaking. One man lowered his gun as the other held his towards Lincoln. He bent down, grabbing Kyra's wrist. His face inches from hers. In a swift movement, Kyra clamped down on the man's ear, her teeth sinking into the helix of his ear. A loud, painful screech erupted from his lips. The man jerked backward, providing assistance to ripping his ear clean off.
Blood dripped from Kyra's lips, as a crooked, devilish smile flashed across them. "You bitch!" The man screamed, swinging his gun back around, gripping it in his hands he raised the bud of the gun, slicing the air as he collided the metal against Kyra's forehead. Her head flung backward, headbutting the wall behind her. The pain intensified. She was on the edge of consciousness when she heard someone speak.
"Enough." He clenched his jaw. Though nothing would be more satisfying to him than watching the girl get beaten to death, but he had his orders, as did the rest of them. "The Chancellor wants to speak with her." He stepped forward, crouching in front of her. Kyra's cold eyes locked on his brown ones as they had a stare down. The boy's eyes followed the blood as it dripped from her chin onto the floor beneath his feet. "Go get yourself cleaned up." He glanced back up at the soldier who cupped the side of his head. "I've got it from here." He turned back to face the grounder girl, scrunching his eyes as the blood of the soldier splattered across his face. The man raised his arm, wiping off the blood.
Reaching into his back pocket, his fingers gripped the keys to unchain the girl's wrist, then he stood. "Get up." He ordered, yanking the Grounder by her arm. His grip tightening around her forearm. The doors slid closed once they were out, leaving Lincoln alone once again in the dark. Kyra knew she could fight back, she knew in an instant she could have them all on their backs, dead. However, against her instincts she stayed calm, her eyes cold.
Suddenly, they came to an abrupt stop, her eyes followed the soldier that opened the door and stepped to the side to allow them to pass. The room was average size, a large table sat in the middle, monitors aligned the wall in an unorganized fashion. To the left, she saw a massive map of the ground. Red circles and x are marked all along areas she knew belonged to villages. Trikru villages. These people really don't know what they have done. What they have started. She thought.