Disclaimer: Just checked my birth certificate, and I am not either of the two authors who contributed to the Lorien Legacies. Who knew?
Author's Note: After being a fan of the series for years, I finally decided to write a fanfic, after furiously wondering what would happen in the next instalment 'The Fall of Five' and I'm loosely based it on the given synopsis of that book (if you don't know what that is the internet's a handy place)
The Fall of Five
Chapter One
Nine
Visions blur together. There's one of me and Sandor when I was about six, both of us laughing and eating ice cream, watching Maddie scream one last time, Johnny mentioning Sarah for the 68th time and then darkness as Setrákus Ra pinned me to the floor and then gradually everything began to clear and I hear unfamiliar voices.
I try to flex my hands, but something's binding them together and cutting into my skin. Trickling, a slither of blood travels from my wrist to a fingertip. Whatever that's holding my hands together is sharp, really sharp.
The voices quieten, and I know full attention's on me, so I decide to smirk; give the Mogs the show that they want. My facial muscles hurt, and I don't know whether it looks like I'm mocking them or that I'm having a spasm. Hoping for the first.
A clear light shines against my eyes, and I feel like I'm in a crappy detective drama. Obviously the Mogs need to watch better television, something with girls in bikinis. Despite the sheer brightness of the light, I open my eyes, squinting at first.
There are about seven figures, all the typical Mog build except from one who is beefy and resembles a hippo and another which almost fades into the background due to looking unimpressive. The dude needs to do some squats. I would insult them but my mouth is drier than the Sahara desert. But I'll remember it, definitely.
The only identical thing about all the Mogs is a smug smile. And why wouldn't they want to celebrate? They caught me, number Nine, and then there will only be six Loric left. Hallelujah. But one thing doesn't make sense, why am I still alive? I should be dead, a fourth pendant hanging around Setrákus Ra's scarred throat.
I have no idea where the others are, but as I scan the room it's a comforting thought that they're not in here with me, after my loss against Setrákus Ra, it seems they've managed to escape.
Between the Mogs, a language which I can barely understand is transferred between them and my stomach lurches. Even with my super hearing, I can't translate a language I don't know, but I remember the same language being used when I was trapped in the cells. And the clicking sounds they make with their tongues makes me want to rip them out.
A door, which I hadn't noticed before opens and an eighth person slides in, and she definitely contrasts with the stereotypical Mogadorian image. Unlike the others in the room, she looks impassive, as if I was just a piece of chewing gum on the street.
Striding towards me, I get a good look at her and I have to admit I enjoy the view. Long, wavy hair falls to the small of her back; in such a fair shade of blonde it looks almost silver. And with the combination of high cheek bones, and a feline body, she's beautiful. Shame about her being evil.
While staring directly at me she announces, "Ivan and Dekkan stay, the rest find something better to do."
Her tone is like ice, sharp and clear, determining that no one would defy her. Five Mogs nod and flee through the door being the aimless sheep they are, but not once do her eyes flicker from my face, and for a second I'm self-conscious if I have a spot. But then I have to remind myself that she's no good. Just like Maddie.
Two Mogs flock her; the hippo shaped one, the other lanky with glasses anxiously fidgeting with an electronic device, his fingertips drumming at an annoying rhythm.
"Any questions?" She asks, and this time it's directed at me. I have millions, some appropriate and some not, but I don't want to give her the satisfactory of that I'm curious and I have to rely on her for answers.
So I do what got me through the last time I was a prisoner of the Mogs, I growl. However, the Mogs usually ignored me and backed a few paces away – just in case, however she finds it amusing and ghost of a smile tracing her face.
The one with the device looks from me to her, "Should I note that down?"
"No," she replies curtly, her eyes burning right at me.
"How about I answer some simple questions," she begins, "You're in possession of the Mogadorians, however not in Dulce, in Phoenix, Arizona."
"I don't think it's a good idea to give away our situation," the beefy guy said.
"I don't think you're in the position to say what's a good idea after you let three weapon less people escape and almost kill you," her voice was like venom, and her attention changes from me to the big guy. "Be quiet before I regret choosing you Ivan. And plus, unlike your previous records of prisoners, I'm not going to let him escape."
Ivan unconsciously reaches towards his neck where there is such a horrific scar it makes bile rise up in my throat. This made Ra's one look like a paper cut. Perhaps it was the new Mogadorian fashion.
Ivan glares at her, rearranging the weapon in his hand which looks far more deadly than the typical Mogadorian cannon. But I guess I'm just a special case.
"You've be unconscious for eight hours, your friends have managed to escape which leaves you alone. And you're not dead yet, because you're more use to us alive."
"Not if I don't say anything," I spit out and Ivan loads his gun and points it at my face, and I'm proud I don't flinch.
"You will," she says. Not as a demand or a threat, but as a statement, "Voluntary or not."
I wanted to say something brave or something like "eat my pants" but her words unsettle me and all I could respond with was a cowardly nod, "What are you going to do?"
"With you? Or with my Sunday afternoon?" She says whilst walking closer to me.
"With me."
She's only a foot away.
"Like I said to you before – you're more use alive to us than dead. So nothing that would end your life. A special cell is being prepared for you, roomier than the one in Virginia. We'll assess you and the Garde's future plans, and there are a few scientists who are dying to experiment on you."
Ivan has a dangerous glint in his eyes and Dekkan turns a pale shade. I don't want to know what the experiment is, but without the charm I'm vulnerable to anything. I spent a year bulking up my figure trying to gain a look that would make Mogs cry out for their mothers. However brawn is nothing when it's trapped.
"Those are high goals," I say, confidence gaining in my voice.
"I'm a high achiever."
"Pass me his information," she tells Dekken who wordlessly passes his device to her. It looks like an invention Sandor would have made, and just the simple thought of him seems like a dagger is slowly pressing into my gut. Of course I don't let that show, can't let anything ruin my bravado.
"Number Nine," she says aloud, "It seems you have been very careless."
I leap at her, trying to find what it says about me, or about Sandor, or MaddIE but the cuffs dig into my skin and I yelp. Ivan laughs, while Dekkan looks straight at the girl, probably wondering if he should note that down.
"The cuffs are made of Lorium, found in the core of Lorien, sharpest and strongest metal ever known, and weakens legacies. I suggest you should stop moving before you saw your hand off."
"I don't care," I grunt, they can deal with my bloody hand on the floor.
"Yes you do," she says, her hands are on the arms of the chair her face only a few inches away from mine. Up close I can see dark circles underneath her eyes, she hasn't slept much, but her eyes have most attention, they were dark but not black, almost a purple colour.
I'm annoyed I can't strangle her, or any of them, or break that device. I'm stuck and helpless, no Cepan that could help and a broken charm. But in spite of that, I decide to whistle in her face.
"What are you doing?" Ivan says.
"He's whistling a Beatles tune," Dekkan says, "Blackbird; it's a classic song."
"I have more important things than to know the name of bands," Ivan growls.
"Both of you out." She says, Dekkan's eyes are wide and the guy looks terrified at what will happen, Ivan gives a murderous glance; first at me than her, and they both depart the room. I wonder if they'll get in trouble, I hope so. I want every Mog suffering and dead, but I want to be the cause of it..
"How would you get everyone dead then?" She asks softly and I wonder if I've been grumbling out loud.
"By killing them," I whisper.
"Very insightful." She leans away from the chair putting distance between us.
"It doesn't matter how, as long as they're dead. You'll be one of the first," I close my eyes as savage thoughts fill my brain.
"What about the phrase; best till last?"
"You're all the same, nothing, and you all deserved to die on Mogadore," I feel as if I've said too much, but an angry monster inside of me tries to escape, "And me killing you on earth is the second best thing."
She arches her eyebrows and smiles, "One of the commanders said you had a thing for pretty faces and he's right. You've told me more things than you've mentioned to the Mogs the past year when you were in intensive care."
"What makes you think you're so hot?" I mumble. I know I'm caught, it happened with Maddie and her nice ass, and now it's happening again with the enemy. I'm starting to think all good looking girls are associated with the Mogs.
The door opens, and both she and I snap our heads to the direction. A Mog walks in with a towering build and sharp facial features, and a mouth that seemed to permanently scowl. The girl nods, "General."
He ignores her and almost pretends she doesn't exist and the control she had in the situation before disappears. However she goes back into a trance of impassiveness and she turns toward me.
"Inject him; his new cell is ready," and then he turns away without another word. It seems like the General doesn't like her. Although he seems like the kind of jerk who doesn't respect the little guys, she doesn't seem like the typical little guy. But I don't specialise in the pyramid of Mogadorian power.
I could use their mutual disliking to my advantage. It wouldn't take much to make the Mogs corrupt, and power seems like the perfect trigger. I start formulating a plan in my head.
"That's a stupid idea," she murmurs as she opens a draw and pulls out a needle with a black liquid in, she inspects it and then mentions a name of a chemical I never heard of, although Sandor may know. But then again, he's dead.
"I didn't say anything," I say, slightly conscious if I've gone insane and started talking about my plans aloud. I'm positive I didn't, although a day ago with Johnny I was sure I could beat Setrákus Ra, in a one to one battle.
"No you didn't," she turns towards me smirking, her purples eyes almost darkening if she had a private joke to herself.
I'm not going insane. I'm not. I am still number Nine and I will kill Setrákus Ra, even if it kills me.
She saunters closer to where I sit, and while the needle is probing my arm she whispers into my ear, "But that doesn't mean I didn't hear anything."
I could vaguely feel the needle being injected into my arm as I wonder what the hell she is on about. Before I come to a conclusion, I am overwhelmed with a cloud of darkness.
Voila! First chapter is completes. There may be some slight spelling differences, I'm British and I spell colour instead of color etc.
Also I've started at a different, less likely angle but it seems fun imaging it in my head! Please review, I'd love to know what you think, and what you'd like to happen in the next book