Hey guys! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas/holiday/whatever each of you celebrates! I've been chipping away at this story, so I hope you all don't mind these short updates... it's just easier to get these out, and the shortened length makes it less stressful to work on. The next chapter will be longer though, and full of all the feels. I've got some of it done already, so hopefully I can get it out next week or so. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read and review! And for your continued support and patience in spite of my infrequent updates on here. You all are so very appreciated!

Chapter Nine:

Breaking

This lack of love and lack of hope
Leaves me shivering for more
Grabbed by the violence around
Stabbed by the silence inside me.

-Collision, Plan Three

[Karai]

I pace about the room to the rhythm of the rain splattering against the windows. I'm beyond exhausted, and I can't sleep. I've tried, but when I close my eyes, all I see is Leo, lying stiff on the table. All I hear is the crunch of bone inside his fist, and the thud of Elias' body hitting the floor. It echoes through my skull.

I don't know where he is right now. I don't know what Father is doing, or going to do. I don't know anything.

And I hate it.

Memories play on a loop in my head. My fists clench every time the cycle starts over. Leo shouldn't be here. How could he let himself get caught? How could he have been so stupid?

I stop, jaw tight. There's a war inside of me that's tearing up my soul. I don't want to want to do anything. I wish I felt nothing toward the situation, like I used to. I wish I could look at his face and see those eyes and feel nothing—but that's not me. Not anymore. The time spent toying with him, engaging in our playful, competitive banter—the dance that we had grown used to doing…it's changed me.

And I hate it.

I can't ignore the fact that he's here. No matter how much I wish I could revert back to the stone-heartedness of my past self, I can't. Things have changed, and despite my distaste for it, he's no longer an object for me to play with. He's not an enemy, and he's not a friend…but he is something to me. And when all you've had in life is nothing…something is very hard to let go of.

I close my eyes and exhale. I shouldn't leave the room, but I know I'm going to. I know I'll sneak down the corridors until I find him, and then…

Then?

I don't know.

But two things are certain: He doesn't belong here…

And I'm going to do something about it.

~T~

[Leo]

The darkness is blinding as the cacophony of hisses retreat to the corners of my aching skull. My head bobs, pulling at my spine as my body slumps forward. A sharp clink pricks my senses. I groan, wincing, and try to gather myself. I can't see anything…

Clink.

Chains. I'm…chained?

I try to tug my wrists, but they feel…disconnected, as if the command from my brain isn't reaching the muscles in my arms. Panic stirs, plunging into my mind and tearing through to find a thought that isn't blurry, a memory that isn't distorted. It comes up empty…

And cold.

I swallow and groan again. Everything hurts, but the pain feels distant, like it's outside of me. Or I'm outside of it.

All I can do is breathe, but even this feels as if my lungs are full of sludge. What's happening? Why can't I remember anything?

I try to sit back, to focus on anything but the chill in my bones and the haze in my skull.

Come on, focus. Meditate. Find those missing pieces…

I suddenly become aware of my right hand. It feels…

Sticky.

What? I blink as my lips tug into a frown. My muscles still feel awkward, and as I look to my hand, my vision goes in and out. A soft hiss drifts up into my thoughts while I struggle to touch my index finger to my thumb. The skin sticks enough to give an off audible peeling sound when I pull my finger from my thumb. My hand is discolored, almost…almost red. A crimson that has spread up my forearm in a splatter-like pattern…

Crunch.

The echo disperses through my hand, and the sudden recall makes my muscles tense, pulling my fingers to a clenched fist.

Crunch.

The bones broke—

Fire, red, ash—

They broke between my fingers—

Black, empty—

Splintered in the palm of my hand, like a bundle of twigs—

Void—

And their bodies crumpled in on themselves, twisted, broken; the heavy sound echoing through the room—

Void—

The hissing intensifies, clouding my thoughts, drowning me in images, in the recurring flash of his neck being crushed in my hand—

My hand—

Void—

It was me.

It was me.

It was me—

And I'm screaming.