A/N: Shouout to Number Ten for reviewing! You rock, man! ;) \m/
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Number Ten ––– Thanks! It's glad to be back. :) I wrote a few songs and poems on the road, so I wasn't totally starved of writing, but it still kinda wasn't the same. I had to get back here, but the problem besides time was also writer's block. And like I said, I hate halfassing chapters, 'cause it's not me. That's not how I work. So that was also a challenge to get back in the game on here. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Hope I still got it, it's been awhile. A long while. Lol.
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Disclaimer: Me still no own ASOUE. Go ahead, go crazy. Get creative with this disclaimer.
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Chapter 12
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"Harder. You have to punch harder," Anne called. "They're not gonna give up after a middle school slap."
Offended, Isadora swung again, mustering up every ounce of hatred in her. The training dummy merely weaved to the side a foot. She stopped for a moment, hunching over to catch her breath. Already, she'd meditated for an hour, stretched then worked out with weights for an hour, and now she was showing Anne what she knew about combat. Even after all that, she still wasn't making any progress. She hadn't even known Anne for twenty-four hours and she was already sick of her training. What did any of this have to do with getting Fiona back? Sure, fighting her physically, she'd stand a better chance than she did before, but she wasn't like that. She was mental, not physical. A lover, not a fighter. Why couldn't Anne just teach her about psychological warfare rather than physical warfare?
"Alright, timeout." Anne strode into the ring and up to her apprentice. Much to Isadora's surprise, she wasn't frustrated with her progress one bit. She was still as calm as can be, much like when she'd met her earlier this morning. She had to commend her on her patience, her long fuse–––it truly was a remarkable thing. "I know what your problem is."
Isadora wiped the sweat running down her face. "You do?" she breathed, looking up at her, still hunched over. She'd only been punching the dummy for five minutes. How did Anne know what was wrong in such a short time?
"Yes, I do," Anne said. "Your mind's not in the right mode."
"The right mode?" Isadora repeated, confused.
"Yes…your mind's in a submissive mode. That's not what's going to help you in a fight. That's the fastest way to wind up back in the hospital. Or dead. One of the two."
Isadora shuddered. The last thing she wanted was to be in the hospital for another month. Or worse: dead.
"No, what you want is for your mind to be in survival mode. No different than animals when they feel threatened. Do they wimp out? Do they pull punches…or paws? No, they fight, because their life depends on it. And yours does too whenever you find yourself in a hostile situation like this. Kill or be killed is what needs to run through your mind in times like this."
"But…I don't wanna kill," Isadora protested meekly.
"Then you don't wanna live." Anne paused, watching her words sink deep into Isadora's psyche. Isadora remained silent, looking down at the floor to hide her discomfort. "Of course, not every time you're in a fight you have to kill. You have to play it by ear, by sight…by your instincts. And you, my dear, are not in tune with your instincts."
Isadora continued to look at the floor, ashamed. She was glad Anne clarified that not every fight ended in death, but she still felt uncomfortable with this new way of thinking. She thought back to her mother. She was clearly a fighter, a damn good one at that. Her gentle, sweet, loving mother…could turn into a killing machine? …So, it was possible to blend the two personalities. But, her mother made it look so easy. How did she do it? Oh, how she wished she was alive to ask her. …But, even then, she wasn't her mother. She wasn't meant to be. She was meant to be her.
"I know you have it in you, Isadora. I've seen footage of your mother," Anne said, as if reading her mind. "It's in your blood."
Isadora looked up at her, bewildered. "You've seen my mother fight?" she asked, astonished.
"Of course. She was one of V.F.D.'s finest. And one of my inspirations, to be honest."
"Really?"
"Mm hm. A remarkable woman in combat. So don't give me any excuses as to why you can't become as good as your mother. Possibly even better."
Finally catching her breath, Isadora stood up and stared out at the enormous ring.
"You're still full of doubt. I can feel it," Anne said after a moment.
"Hm?" Isadora looked at her, trying to camouflage it.
"Don't play cute with me. I can see it in your eyes." Anne looked deep into Isadora's eyes, her baby blues cutting right through whatever walls she put up to block her. "Doubt…submissive…beta–––no…omega female."
Isadora flinched, her cheeks burning. She didn't know what to say. Anne could read her like a book…and to her horror, she was right.
"If anything, Cali's more of a beta. Beta's next in line to become alpha. Only her ego's getting in the way. You, however, are an omega. Everybody walk all over me, that's fine, I don't want any trouble. Just let me belong."
Isadora's eyes flickered. "I'm not a doormat," she snarled immediately.
"Obviously, you are. Your stance, the way you hold yourself, the way you fight, tells me you are. I could tell that the moment I met you."
"I am not!" Isadora countered hotly, ready to jump in Anne's face.
"Right now you are," Anne said coolly with a small smile.
"I am not!" Isadora screamed, this time getting in her face.
Anne kept smiling. "Show me you're not."
With an outraged roar, Isadora ran up to the training dummy again, her eyes alive with fury. At once, she began pounding it with everything she had. The dummy lurched this way and that, clearly disturbed by her insecurities that had manifested themselves into fists. The swings kept coming. The hatred kept pouring into her system. Isadora just didn't stop.
Anne smiled at her handiwork. The omega was finally realizing that they were the omega and was sick of it. She knew Isadora had a long way to go before she was even close to being alpha, but, it was a step in the right direction.
With a furious cry, Isadora knocked the dummy on the floor and glared down at it, daring it to move. Never had she felt so alive. In control. On top. And she loved it. She looked around at Anne, an animalistic gleam in her eye, challenging her to say doormat again.
"Better," Anne said, crossing her arms. "You're on the right track, but you still have so far to go…omega."
Isadora's eyes narrowed.
"Easy, now. The last thing you want is to turn into Cali. Cali fights with raw emotion. We can't have that. Raw anger clouds judgment. Emotion in general clouds judgment. You want your mind to work for you in combat, not against you. You need that fire you just showed me…but tamed. Channeled into your body, not your mind. Your mind is one of your best weapons, and one of the crucial weapons you need to survive in general, not just in combat. So do everything in your power not to cloud it. Like, say, don't get offended by things. Let it roll right off you, omega."
Isadora was about to tackle her, but she tried Anne's tactic. She forced the offense into just words, the anger she initially felt at said insult channel into her body, making it tense a bit, but not in a disabling kind of way. Rather, it was almost as if it were giving energy to her limbs, pumping extra strength into them. Her mind, she found, was just as clear as if Anne had said nothing at all. And she found she could actually think about things…like, what her next move would be.
"There it is." Anne smiled proudly, noticing a difference. "That's how you should be in every fight, no matter how big or small…or lethal. Take a mental note of what you're feeling right now. Tell me, how do you feel? Feel any different?"
"Very," Isadora answered, noticing this difference for herself.
"How different?"
"I can think. Focus."
"Could you do that when you attacked that dummy the second time?"
"Think, no. Focus on him, yes."
"How about your surroundings? We're you focusing on your surroundings at the same time?"
"No," Isadora shook her head.
"Always be aware of your surroundings. I walked right up to you twice while you were fighting and you still didn't notice me."
Isadora flinched. "You did?"
Anne nodded. "If I were an enemy, I would've killed you right on the spot. Twice. See why you can't have your mind clouded by emotion? Why it should always be clear and scanning your surroundings? 'Cause it will save your life, that's why. The first key to survival, and not just a fight, but in any situation: destroy their mind, and they'll be yours. But remember to protect your own mind, because some people out there will be like me and use the same tactics on you. There are no rules or morals in survival, just that you walk out alive."
Isadora nodded. This was a lot to take in. She wished she could take notes in her notebook.
"If you need to write this down, don't be afraid to. I'd rather you write it down, practice it, and learn it than listen and forget."
Flummoxed at her mind-reading skills, Isadora immediately took her notebook out, flipped to a blank page, and began scribbling furiously.
"And remember, you won't get like me overnight. You constantly have to practice, and truly put effort into it."
Isadora nodded, continuing to scribble. Anne watched her apprentice carve her words into stone before her, waiting patiently for her to finish. At last, Isadora had writer's cramp and finished copying everything into her notebook. She shoved it back in her pocket and looked up at Anne for further instruction.
"Here. Let me show you how effective you'll be if you do what I say," Anne said, and walked out of the ring to the control panel on the wall. She punched in a few specifications, then strode back into the ring and to the center of the room where a vast army of dummies awaited her. She took a deep breath and got in a fighting stance, scanning her opponents endlessly.
"In three…two…one…" a robotic voice echoed above them, preparing Anne for her brawl. "…Begin."
With a ding! from a bell somewhere above, Isadora watched intently, apprehensively as the wave of dummies charged at Anne. What was she, crazy? There was no way a Barbie doll like her could beat all twenty of those dummies without getting pummeled. No chance. And they had weapons. Swords, to be exact. And none of them looked dull. Isadora cringed as they closed in on her. She couldn't watch.
Instantly, Anne jumped out of the way of the first dummy's slash, seized its arm, and snapped it. The dummy cried out in pain, dropping its weapon, and in one swift graceful motion, she grabbed it before it hit the ground, whirled around, and cut it in two. It fell to the ground as the other dummies swung at her simultaneously. She backflipped out of their range and threw her sword. It pierced another dummy in the face and it fell to its knees screaming. She jumped on its chest and yanked out her sword, ducked out of the way of another dummy's sword, and swung again, cutting the dummy's arm off.
Isadora's jaw dropped as she continued to watch Anne swing wildly, but methodically at the army surrounding her. She stood corrected. Her gut feeling in the library was correct: she really was a combat major. And a phenomenal one at that. None like she'd ever seen before, including her mother. Before long, the whole army was wiped out and Anne was making her way back over her with the first dummy's sword in hand, not a scratch on her.
"How did you…?" Isadora finally breathed, watching Anne walk out of the ring.
"Practice and dedication," Anne told her, hanging up the sword on the rack next to the control panel. She looked at Isadora and smiled. "Let's go get some dinner. I'm starving."
"A-Alright," Isadora stuttered, hurrying out of the ring after her. They walked out of the gym and made their way down the hall. "That was…that was amazing! I…I…"
Anne looked at her and shook her head. "That wasn't my best."
"What?" Isadora cried. "What do you mean that wasn't your best? That was the best fighting I've ever seen!"
Anne shrugged. "I guess…"
"It was! Just wait 'til everyone sees you in the ring!" Isadora squealed.
"Oh, that reminds me," Anne stopped walking. "We still have to sign you up for classes."
"What do you mean?" Isadora looked at her, puzzled.
"Now that you're here, V.F.D. is going to train you to be an official volunteer, since you never formally attended the V.F.D. academy. So that means we have to sign you up for classes."
"Oh…" Isadora looked off to the side, nervous. Attending school again. Great. Hopefully this Orphans Shack had heated hay bales…
"Don't worry, I'll help you," Anne put her arm around Isadora's shoulders with a comforting smile. "You got nothing to worry about."
Isadora smiled. It felt nice to know someone else had her back besides her brothers and the Baudelaires. "Would you like to sit with me at dinner? I'll introduce you to my brother and Klaus and Sunny."
"Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire? You know them know them?" Anne's eyebrows rose, impressed.
"Oh, they're my brothers' and my best friends," Isadora said, feeling her chest swell with pride. "We've been friends since Prufrock Prep years ago."
Anne nodded in acknowledgement, thinking for a moment. "I'd be honored."
Isadora grinned. "Great! Let's go! They ought to be there by now." She led Anne to the cafeteria at a fast walk, thrilled that she had a combat major to cover her if Fiona tried anything. She could get as sarcastic as she wanted with her and as flirty as she wanted with Klaus and not have to worry about a thing. This new sense of security had washed over her, and it felt amazing. Addicting. Was this what it felt like to be in control? On top of the food chain? She had to feel this feeling…not just right in the moment, but forever. She arched her shoulders back, held her head high, and her stride turned into one of purpose. Of superiority. Already she felt different, invincible, like no one could hurt her, take her down. And to her surprise, Anne was quick to notice this too.
"There it is. The alpha walk," she commented, a small, proud smile spreading across her face.
Isadora snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her. "Huh?"
"The omega is now emulating the alpha walk. And it's a beautiful sight," Anne said. "You're on the right track with how to present yourself, carry yourself, but you still have a long way to go, omega."
Isadora looked ahead of her and smirked. Omega…yeah right, she thought presumptuously. I'm not the omega anymore. You'll see.
At last, they reached the cafeteria, got in line, and grabbed their food. As soon as the tables came into sight again, Isadora scanned the crowded room for her beloved. "Found him–––er, them," she corrected herself quickly, hoping Anne didn't catch on to the other part of her motive to learn under her. She darted over to Klaus, who was accompanied by the demon sitting on his left and Sunny sitting on his right, Duncan sitting across from Sunny, switching between eating and reading a pamphlet.
"Hey guys!" Isadora said cheerfully, taking a seat next to her brother. They returned the greeting. "Sorry I'm late. I was in the gym."
Duncan flinched and looked at her. "You were in the gym?" he said incredulously. "You?"
Her smile never faltering one bit, Isadora stomped on Duncan's foot, and he yelped in pain.
"Why do you keep stomping on my stitches?" he choked, cradling his foot.
"Huh?" Isadora said innocently. "What're you talking about?"
Duncan glared at her vindictively, an ominous growl slipping his lips.
"That reminds me," Klaus said, chewing thoughtfully on a bite of apple. "I gotta go work out after dinner."
Isadora's heart skipped a beat, along with Fiona's. She could picture him lying on his back, pumping iron rhythmically…shirtless…sweat pouring down his buff, chiseled frame… She shook her head back into reality. "Uh, anyway, I hope you guys don't mind, but I've invited someone to sit with us today. I met her earlier this morning in the library."
"Oh really?" Fiona's eyebrows rose, intrigued. "What's her name?"
"Anne. Anne Repreznav," Anne said from behind as Isadora opened her mouth to speak. Everybody watched as she took a seat next to Isadora and smiled slyly at them.
Klaus and Duncan blinked at her, fighting not to salivate, Fiona glancing at Klaus, then back at Anne cautiously, trying to mask her uneasiness. Isadora just smiled.
"Anne, this's my oldest brother Duncan," Isadora gestured to her brother, who hadn't peeled his eyes off her since she sat down. "Quigley's still in the hospital."
"Charmed." Anne offered him her hand, and after a convincing elbow from his sister, Duncan came back to Earth, reached out, and shook it with a bashful smile.
"This's…Fiona Widdershins," Isadora said, doing her best not to choke on her name.
Fiona reluctantly reached out and shook her hand with a nod.
"And these are Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire," Isadora said, beaming proudly.
"Nice to meet you," Klaus said with that warm smile of his, shaking her hand.
"Agatah!" Sunny shrieked from his side.
"My sister says it's nice to meet you too," Klaus translated.
"The honor's all mine, Baudelaires," Anne said with a humble nod. "I almost didn't believe Isadora when she said you and her were friends."
"Oh we go way back," Klaus said, smiling crookedly at Isadora, who almost fainted from bliss. "We attended boarding school years ago."
"I see," Anne looked at Isadora. "Forgive me for doubting you."
"Oh, you're fine," Isadora dismissed her apology lightheartedly. "I get that all the time."
There was a pause as everyone took a few bites of food. "So Anne," Fiona started after awhile. "What do you major in?"
"Combat training," Anne said.
Fiona snorted with a crooked grin. "With what, a hairbrush and a curling iron?"
Everybody looked at Fiona. Isadora and Anne, however, shared a knowing glance. "Pretty big talk for a girl who studies mushrooms," Anne said calmly.
Everybody held their breath, Isadora fighting not to laugh. God…did anything offend this girl? The fuse was longer than she anticipated.
Fiona's face flushed. "Excuse me?" she asked, borderline snarled.
"What, I can't paint my nails and fight?" Anne asked simply.
"I never said that," Fiona said. "I meant, you don't look like you fight."
"Sights oft deceive," Anne said, examining her long, perfectly manicured nails. "You'll be surprised to find out that I paint my nails with blood. That's why they're so red all the time."
Fiona let out another snort. "I'm sorry, is this the part where I'm supposed to be afraid? Because I'm not. Nice try."
"So what form of combat do you specialize in, Anne?" Klaus asked, jumping in before Fiona could feel any more threatened. She must've seen the look on his face when Anne sat down. That had to be the reason why she was being so defensive. He couldn't think of any other explanation.
"All types, actually: open-hand, one weapon, dual wielding, two-handed weapons like staffs, all kinds."
Klaus's eyebrows rose, clearly impressed by her résumé. "Wow. That's impressive. Is there anything else you major in?" he asked, then took a bite of potatoes.
"Psychology," Anne answered. "I've always found the mind and how it works fascinating."
"Me too, but not to the point of majoring in it," Klaus said. "Actually, to be honest, I specialize a bit in everything, since I read so much."
"I've heard people say you're a walking library," Anne said. "Is that true?"
"I guess…in a manner of speaking, yes, I am," Klaus admitted with a small chuckle.
Anne joined in his chuckle. She was quiet for a moment, thinking about what else to say. "I'm sorry if this's still a delicate subject," she began carefully. "But I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Violet, Klaus. I heard she was just as remarkable as you two."
"Oh, uh…" The enthusiasm in Klaus's eyes faded as he looked down at his tray and rubbed his neck. "Thanks."
"If you ever need someone to talk to, just come find me. Okay?" Anne offered sweetly, tipping her head.
Klaus looked up at her and nodded. "I will. Thanks."
"So what do you specialize in Duncan?" Anne leaned forward to look at him.
Duncan blinked at her like a deer in headlights. "…Huh? Oh, journalism. I specialize in journalism," he managed to say, his cheeks now redder than her nails.
"Oh really? Have you considered writing for Various Facts Daily?" Anne asked.
Duncan raised the pamphlet in his hand with a smile. "Looking into it right now," he replied.
"Good for you. I think you'll like working with those people. They're very nice. And accurate with their facts."
"That's what I'm about: accuracy," Duncan breathed nervously, hoping he didn't sound stupid.
"Good. If it's one thing that's hard to find nowadays, it's journalists who tell the truth." Anne reached across Isadora and pinched his cheek with a flirty wink. Duncan let out a strangled moan, his skin starting to tingle. "Don't ever change, Duncan."
"I…I won't," Duncan drawled.
Isadora watched as Fiona grabbed Klaus's hand and began talking to Anne again, but about what, she didn't know. Nor did she care. She was too busy observing how that abomination suffocated the life out of that poor creature. Oh, how she wished she could rescue it. She would give anything to be the one holding his hand, not strangling it. Fiona, yes, his hand, no. Her heart tensed up, her breathing quickened, and her focus didn't shift in the slightest.
"Well, we have to get going. I gotta help Isadora sign up for classes," Anne said after what felt like forever, wiping her face with her napkin and standing up. "It was nice meeting you all. C'mon, Isadora."
Isadora didn't move. In fact, she hadn't moved since Fiona and Anne started talking again. Her gaze had only become more intense, more jealous. And she was so preoccupied by the blasphemy before her eyes that she never heard Anne's command to leave. It took Anne physically shaking her to break the trance.
"Huh?" Isadora looked up at her.
"I said we have to go. We gotta sign you up for classes, remember?" Anne reminded her with a smile.
"Oh…yeah, that's right." Isadora looked back down at the table, her heart sinking. Why couldn't they stay longer? Why couldn't Anne just slug Fiona and put her in the morgue already? Reluctantly, she stood up. "See you guys at breakfast." And with one last forlorn look at Klaus, she followed Anne to the garbage can. After disposing of their scraps and relinquishing their trays to the dishwasher behind the counter, Anne and Isadora walked out of the cafeteria and down the hall to their next objective.
They walked in silence for a moment, before Anne looked at Isadora. "Fiona seems nice," she said. "A little too territorial, but nice."
Isadora looked at her, offended. "Nice?" she repeated curtly. Already her new friend was taking her enemy's side, and she didn't like it. "She's not nice. She killed Violet. My friend, my…sister…" she finished softly, haunted.
"I don't think she meant to," Anne replied, shaking her head. "I didn't sense any malice in her voice. Nor was she trying to hide it. I've been around both types of killers to pick up on that."
Isadora scowled at her, betrayed.
"You can be mad at me all you want, honey, but I truly believe it was an accident," Anne said. When Isadora glared straight ahead to avoid her eyes, she knew she'd misunderstood her. Anne's face softened as she put an arm around her. "Look, Isadora, you have every right to be mad," she tried soothingly. "You lost your best friend…your sister. And I don't blame you for hating Fiona for what she did. But she didn't mean it. It was an accident. I can feel it. And if she truly meant Violet harm, I would've told you so. I don't play games with facts."
Isadora remained silent, barely glancing at her.
Anne took her arm off her and they kept walking, the gears in her head whirring as she put the pieces she'd gathered into place. Another moment of silence passed before she spoke again, catching Isadora off guard with a ball from left field. "That's why you don't like her," she concluded triumphantly. "You like him…don't you?"
Isadora's head snapped in her direction, stunned. A wide, sneaky smile was now on Anne's face, her eyes gleaming at her recent detective work. Isadora gulped, beginning to sweat. Anne had her in checkmate. There was nothing she could say to convince her otherwise. She looked back in front of her and remained silent.
"Don't you?" Anne repeated, though it sounded more like a declaration than a question.
"I never said yes," Isadora answered with a slight scowl.
"You don't have to," Anne said. "Your body language already said it for you."
Isadora blushed profusely. Great. The cat was out of the bag. Now what? She took a long time to reply. "Please don't tell him," she admitted, almost inaudibly.
"Oh, honey, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me," Anne assured her with a wink.
Isadora looked at her, fighting not to look desperate, then the two continued on in silence. From the way Klaus was looking at Anne when they'd sat down, she began to worry. And now Anne knew her secret. God forbid the two were ever alone in a room for a split second… At least Fiona didn't know. She could play the Violet charade a little longer with her. But sooner or later, her attraction to him was bound to be obvious. And when the light did shine on it finally? She was going to be in the hospital for a long, long time.
…Maybe even permanently…
