Chapter 2

Tris POV

My body is frozen in place, paralysed with fear. My hands are trembling uncontrollably and my skin is layered with Goosebumps.

I. Am. So. Cold.

Is this what it feels like to be dead? Why has the suffering not ended yet? Why am I not free of pain?

After being dauntless, I have learnt one thing that has stuck with me after all that has happened to all of us. You stay strong, be brave, and if death confronts you, you go down fighting. Once it is all over, you will be given peace. I had not wanted to die. I had wanted to save the people that I loved, my family, friends and the innocent.

Nobody deserves to die. But now I have, and the pain is still here. Is it even possible that what I was told was all lies? It can't be true… but it is, and now the pain is going to haunt me for the rest of eternity.

Since I find it impossible to move a single muscle in my body, I simply lie still and let the darkness of this earth embrace me.

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Behind the walls of closed eyelids, I can no longer see. There will be nothing in view anyway. All I have to do is feel. I have to trust my senses. Touch, smell, taste and sound. Sight is no longer an option. And what does it feel like? It feels like slipping in and out of death. It is agony.

The world which loiters directly before my eyes and had once been so easily in reach, is no longer a lenient and perfect place. It is harder to accept this than usual. Genetically pure genes… genetically damaged genes…

Neither fact or matter makes any noticeable difference- If it even counts and remains standing as a fact anyhow. From the beginning, it had made no sense. They are only names which hold no meaning. Who we are is what matters, not how pure our genes are. In the real world, we had been feeding off lies. I can only hope that Tobias and my friends and family will break free. They are all perfect, no matter what anybody else might say. Only our opinions matter- not theirs.

When the first loads of information had been dumped onto our shoulders, we had taken each key factor in, absorbing every individual word like an innocent puppy. We had all been so obedient, Tobias, Uriah, Zeke, Christina, Caleb, Peter, Cara and I.

Now it all seems like a rouse- A huge and utter waste of both our time and our lives, and now it is too late. All that time that I have spent dithering over Genetical nonsense has ran dry, almost as if it has expired.

The statement works just as well as any- At first, I had assumed that I had time, and lots of it. Enough to spare… enough to waste… and now?

Now there is not a single fraction of it left. Tobias had been right- Sometimes I really was careless, and there is nothing now that I can do in order to replay the previous events over, no way to turn back time or regenerate more of it. All these thin shreds of hope and useless plots share one thing in common- They are all as equally helpless. And that is my doing.

This is All. My. Fault.

My senses have gradually dulled over the unknown periods of time that I have been here… or wherever I currently happen to be. For all I know, I could be on the other side of the planet right now and since I have lost the possession of both of my eyes, I have no way to prove my theories and suspicions neither correct, nor incorrect. Now that I am blind, all that lies before me will forever remain a mystery. It is all a matter of perplexment.

As the foggy mist- which has been holding me down, pinning me to the ground and paralyzing my body- shifts, freeing me of its numbing vapour, the strong sense of panic suddenly shifts along with the vapour, only this time, instead of drifting away from me like the rest, the impact hurls directly towards me, knocking into me with a mind blowing force which causes me to choke out in agony. Biting down on my lip hard and blocking out the screams is all that I can seem to manage.

In the same instant that the panic washes over my body, sending spasms through my body and limbs, reality also plunges back into my system, granting me a sense of foggy awareness, of which I am not sure that I am entirely ready for just yet.

In some ways, this whole messed up situation is hurtling back at me at a far too brisk pace for my liking. In my own personal opinion, I would rather have died, just then and there. That would have saved me a great deal of pain for the near future anyhow.

It also would have been safer, for both myself, and also including many others who will unfortunately cross my path in seconds, minutes, days or even years to come. Maybe I won't be myself anymore by the time comes. I could possibly be crazy by then… or dead. Both situations are quite likely. Chances are, I will just be a dead and limp body. One among many.

But I am human and I am selfish. I am also Dauntless, and If I could name another thing that the very compound had taught me back in the day which now seems like decades ago, it would be to maintain your courage- To always fight back.

The very thought seems to have the effect that I had seeked, and soon enough, I find myself over the shock of what I still couldn't seem to accept. One question is also very present and aware in the corner of my mind.

What happened? Why am I not dead?

Hadn't David's bullet pierced my body, tearing me in two, piece by piece? If so, then surely I shouldn't still be alive by now. Twenty- four hours must have passed, in the least, although I still feel far from rested.

Surely if there is a God up there, he should have saved me from this excruciating pain by now. Proving another theory, the answer is simple: According to my instincts, there is none. Not even the cruellest of God's would have resisted the temptation to end the torture by now- The sacrifice couldn't have been that great.

Revisiting the previous question, I debate on more possible solutions. If not? What happens then? How had the bullets, aimed so perfectly at the target which had been my heart, missed? Was that even possible? Had there never been any bullets in the first place?

That theory doesn't make any sense, for how can I then explain the loud bangs and pops that had rang through the air that night? If I had resisted the death serum in the first place, then surely that couldn't have knocked me down… so why had I fallen?

One last theory- What if the bullets had not been made to kill?

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After replaying the scene over and over from that last night with what little memory I can manage to summon, all the details have come rushing back to me. Even if it feels great to finally have my head back to myself, these details unfortunately still don't provide me with a decent and logical answer.

I have already found all there is to find- There is nothing more. I only have to hope that whatever has lugged me down here, whether human, or strangely not so, will end my seemingly worthless life quickly. The last thing I need right now is to suffer through more agony. The desire to bolt from earth is all but eating me up from the inside.

After opening my eyes, glad that I have the power to do so, I have come to meet the surroundings which reminded me strongly of my old faction- Abnegation. The room which I now lie in- or cell, rather, is similar to the homecoming memories in many ways.

Back there, everything had been dull- our clothing grey, no bright colours in sight. The cell too, is a mixture of greys and blacks, covering the floors and walls. It is tightly packed, and the only individual elements of the room are the bars concealing the outside world from my grasp. Another is the chains that bind me to the wall by my wrists, leaving me hunched over, my shoulders and elbows jutting out at unnatural angles.

From the stiffness shooting through my body, rapidly spreading in a matter of seconds, I can tell that I have remained in this uncomfortable position for quite a while, and no amount of wriggling and squirming improves my posture. To my distaste, it only seems to make the pain worse.

After drifting off, clutching hold of whatever dignity I can manage to cling onto, I awake in a slightly different situation. Everything is now dark again, my eyes once again murky. There is a distant ringing in my ears, and even though I want to cover them to block out the sound which claws at my eardrums, the request is still too much to wish for. The restraints are in control, and I am their prisoner.

After several kicks aimed at the wall and numerous yanks on the chains which bound my hands, both methods achieving nothing, I suddenly begin to hear footsteps thudding towards me. My eyes are no longer working, and my best guess is that I am either blindfolded or completely blind.

I can't imagine that either situation will help me in any way, and I don't really fancy giving up the world before me completely, although if it is just a blindfold, then at least I can actually regain the ability to see… If I am ever given that chance again, that is. Currently, that somehow doesn't prove as very likely.

The footsteps rapidly draw in closer until I can hear them tapping impatiently next to my ears. I resist the temptation to kick whoever, or whatever stands in front of me, and look up uselessly. Escape is out- There is no way to flee. The only option left is to endure whatever punishment that life has drawn upon me.

Seconds tick by, and eventually, I simply can't help myself. It seems impossible to sit here, motionless while the image of the unknown staring me in the face is so clear in my mind. A shiver travels up my spine as I consider the many possibilities.

Scrunching my face up in pain, a frown taking over my face, teeth clenched, I land a weak kick on what stands in front of me, satisfied as I listen, the sound of a heavy grunt echoing through the room. From what I can tell, it does sound human… and low, so it must be a male.

This is not good news. I have upset and angered many people in my time, and I can't think of anyone or anything that I have done to cause somebody to loathe and hate me this much. In my opinion, it is mad. They have crossed the line… it is far too extreme. If they want me dead then why won't they kill me?

Before I can manage to think up some miraculous plan which will be the ticket to get out of this dark and dim place, a strong kick lands into my side, causing me to double over, gagging. There is only so much that my weak structure can handle now, and kicking and slapping don't make the list. Anyhow, at least that seemed to prove at least one of my theories correct- whoever this was definitely hated me… and also seemed to want be dead.

Stalling, ignoring the stiffness and throbbing in my side along with the painful position that my body has somehow managed to roll into, I curse under my breath, spitting on the floor. Just as I am about to land another swing in the attackers direction, a loud familiar voice echoes through my cell.

'Enough!' It booms, the sound once again clawing at my eardrums, although this time, it is twice as bad, and for two valid reasons.

One: It is almost ten times as loud as the ringing which had plagued me before.

Two: This voice is familiar… so familiar… It holds a significant hint of…

It pains me to think of his name, but I force my way through the barrier of agony that is holding me back.

Tobias.

The two voices sound almost identical, so despite the parts of me which are desperately begging and praying that this could not be true, there really is only one person that this can possibly be. It is almost too easy to piece the two pieces together, although it is simply too difficult for me to accept. It just doesn't make any sense.

Confirming my suspicions, the blindfold is ripped from my eyes. There, standing directly in front of me, rubbing his leg of which I have battered, stands Marcus Eaton.

sorry for any mistakes and sorry for the long delay. Reviews make me more motivated and I have exams.