Disclaimer: I don't own the Alex Rider series. Okay? Does this really make you happy Anthony Horowitz?
Okay, here's the low down. I've started the ball rolling. And you have to help me continue it. If you review with a sentence you want slipped into the story, or even send me your own chapter, you never know. Surprises may follow. Get it? I mean that you're chapter or sentence could be up next. So get reading, get thinking. Next chapter will be the sin, Envy. And if I get nothing good enough to post...well, I'll find where you live. Hunt you down. And kick your ass.
Rules:
Chapters can be no longer than eight hundred words.
Sentences can be paragraphs. Or sections. Just send in what you like.
Chapters must have a deadly sin as a theme.
All work volunteered will be credited to its relevant author.
Pride
There are many things Yassen Gregorovich simply will not submit to. Failure...His fellow students on Malagasto...The idea that he is much to young to join Scorpia...And his mentor, John Rider.
There is nothing that humiliates him as much as when he is forced to surrender in combat to John Rider.
Yassen ponders the origin of this during his lesson. John slams the heel of his palm into the young Russian's face. Yassen sways on his feet. John sends a high kick his way that knocks him to the ground, breathless.
Yassen is furious. He did not travel thousands of miles across Russia to find himself pinned to the dusty floor of an ex insane asylum.
He tries every single maneuver he knows to get out from under the weight of the Englishman. Nothing works. Rider has that stupid smile on his face. The 'I'm better than you and I know it' smile.
Yassen is snarling with fury. His arms are pinned by Rider's legs. His waist in pinned by Rider's weight. His legs refuse to work.
"Again".
Rider is on his feet first. He watches Yassen scramble to his feet and smiles. He enjoys the fact that he is taller than the Russian. Yassen loathes it. No warning is given. The onslaught is not beginning, it is continuing.
Yassen throws four punches, the first and second glancing off Rider's outstretched palms. The third catches his cheek. The fourth strikes his chest. Slowly, Yassen orders himself. He will win this time. He must save his energy for when Rider comes at him.
But it's more than that.
He wants to bring him down slowly. Make him feel ever single hit. Make him want to lose, simply to end the shame. Wants him to beg. Wants him to plead. Wants to slash his throat. Wants to choke away that condescending smile.
He wants to do more than kill him. He wants to obliterate him.
A fist swings and pounds dully against the side of his head. Not this time. This is where Rider catches him every time. Yassen step back. The high kick misses. Yassen rushes forward, waiting to break. Like a wave, rushing to shore, he waits until the last minute before leaping into a roll. He has judged the distance perfectly. He catches Rider around the chest and knocks him to the ground.
Four punches rain down on Rider's stunned face. Yassen wants a picture. He has brought the giant crashing down.
It happens in a blur.
Suddenly, Rider has rolled out from under Yassen. In one fluid motion he has Yassen pinned again. The situation is just as bad as last time for Yassen. He has lost. He has been defeated. Humiliation doesn't do justice to what he's feeling.
Slowly, he swallows his pride and spits up.
Saliva wipes the smile from John Rider's face. Pride drips slowly down. His expression darkens. Yassen allows a smirk to take over his features. He watches as a drop plummets from Rider's face onto the dusty ground of Malagasto. It looks like a tear.
He knows he shouldn't, but he feels faintly proud of himself.