What The Hell I'm In Hell
(A/N): WELCOME TO PART TWO OF MY INSANITY *clears throat* STORY - which totally isn't late or anything what are you talking bout and ya'll better get ready for a frickin rollercoaster
but it's good to be back, love ya'll and thanks for giving this a shot 3 hope you like it!
It may be an Orange thing, but instead of having dreams, I began to relive memories.
Most of the time, it was like torture. Night after night would end with me bolting up in a cold sweat, screaming my throat raw until Varvatos came bursting through the door to try calming me down. So many I lost count.
The epitome of PTSD. That's what Steve would've called it.
But there was one memory, one dream, that I held onto. It was the one memory that took place before Psi, back when I was innocent and untouched.
The memory starts with Krel and I sitting in the principal's office at the academy. It was right after we'd turned our computer class into a rave and were now awaiting our punishment. I was sitting upside down in my chair, Krel helping me hold my water bottle as I attempted drinking from it in that position.
When the vice principle finally entered the room, she gave us a stern glare. "You do realize we could expel you for this," She snapped. "Right?"
Krel snorted. "If you could expel us, you would've done it three months ago when we set the gym on fire."
Her face colored with rage. "So that was you!"
"Yes," I sat up. "But it's not like you can prove it."
I white-knuckled that dream. The last thing I had left of that life. Of the person I used to be. Of the little brother I used to have.
But no matter how tight I held to it, nothing was any easier.
The League had me on a plane headed to LA, California not three hours after we'd sent Krel away. It was like throwing a light switch, how suddenly I was thrown into the life they had carefully plotted for me.
The first and most important thing they had in store was training. In every way imaginable. Training, food, training, food, sleep, repeat. That was the routine. In a way I was excited for it. I was ready to learn how to defend myself - more than that, I wanted to. But that all ended when I realized it wasn't about defense. It was about offense.
Hand to hand combat was one of the first ones I learned. How to shatter someone's knee with my foot. How to dislocate their shoulder. How to put them in a strangling hold long enough to render them unconscious.
The next was learning different codes and symbols. How to handle the equipment the League allowed us to use. How to contact by radio. How to build a radio. Code words. The basis of how Ops run. And basic survival skills.
Next was how to handle different weapons. Guns. Knives. How to shoot. Where to cut. How to tackle. When to disarm. And a new device Varvatos was allowed to train me with.
"It is known as a serrator," He said. "It is a recent development in warfare. A mixture of weapons."
It looked like a steel handgun, but with more details. More notches and divots, like there was armor clad around it. When Varvatos pulled down a certain notch, the armor unwound itself and locked into a straight line forward, forming a sword.
He eased it into my hands, letting me run my fingers along the steel. "Lively."
"Careful, princeling," He said. "This weapon is known as one of the most lethal."
How ironic, I thought. So am I.
At least, that's how the League saw me.
They were terribly careful with the programs I trained with, giving me dozens of instructors and a vast variety of classes. Everyday started early and ended late. Every meal was derived from a nutritionist. Everything I did, everything I heard, was so delicately planned.
I wasn't Aja Tarron to them. I wasn't even a child. I was just the latest, lethal weapon for them to turn into a brain washing, memory wiping machine.
I was their puppet on a damn string, I'd hear Krel's voice say. And there was nothing I could do about it.
That was the one thing I couldn't understand about that place. Why call yourselves the Children's League, if you're only going to pretend to help children?
For the first week or so, I didn't see much of the other kids. They weren't putting me on one single team, instead planning to move me around to whatever Op demanded the use of an Orange the most. The kids I did see would only cast wary glares at me. Whispering as I passed or staring from afar during meals.
After what I did to Lena, their oh-so-powerful Orange, none of them dared come any closer.
It was better that way.
I was given my own room, which was nice, I guess. I wasn't in the mood to be around anyone else for a long time. And nobody was willing to take a monster as a roommate.
The room was cold. Cramped. And dark. Only a bed and a dresser sat on the bleached tiles. I laid on the scratchy sheets and cried myself to sleep my first night. I felt like I was suffocating. Like an invisible weight was crushing into my chest. It made me want to vomit, just to get the feeling out of me.
The whole building felt like a prison, even though it more resembled a giant boarding school. The lower floors were dedicated to housing the children. The basement held a large gym for training. And the upper floors housed the agents, along with the operations they conducted.
But there was no going outside. No opening windows. No flexibility, period. A child did not going anywhere without permission. A child did not go anywhere without an agent. Should they try, it would result in immediate lockdown.
The one taste of freedom I could hold onto was when Zadra and Varvatos would sneak me up to the roof. We'd sit up there for hours, them in the deck chairs and me dangling my feet over the edge. Looking at the stars just like we used to.
I'd gaze up at the endless sky with what seemed like the last of my strength, and remind myself that the three other Tarrons are out there somewhere, looking up at the same stars. And I wouldn't feel so alone.
Which is funny when you think about it, since I was almost never alone.
Varvatos and Zadra were with me every second they could be, for one. And though seeing them made things easier, there wasn't much to say to them. There was so much catching up to do, but so much hesitation. Loving them was easy. But truly trusting them?
That was anything but.
I felt so utterly isolated. There was no one to trust - no one to turn to. Every promise the League gave bled into lies. My life wasn't even my own anymore. It belonged to a building full of agents that could care less about me as long as I could scramble someone's mind every other Tuesday. I had lost everything I'd ever known and was left completely on my own.
I was barely through my second week of training when I felt ready to break.
I was sitting on the edge of the mats, playing with spare piece of trash that had fallen from the garbage been a few feet from me. My current instructor, Bagdwella, was distracted with another student and I was given the leisure of having a few moments of peace. But even then it was full of the static screaming in my mind. All I could do was sit and wallow, tearing the gum wrappers apart again and again, until they all looked like me.
I didn't see the battery at first. It was tucked against the side of the mat as though someone had tried throwing it into the bin, but missed. I picked it off the ground, rolling it between my fingers. The image of Eli and his homemade lighter went through my mind. They way Krel had bickered with him that whole day. The ways Steve's eyes had looked in the firelight.
Tears came without my permission. Not loud sobs. Just quiet sniffles everyone was too distracted to notice.
Words could not describe what it felt like to miss them. Like a whole part of me was gone. Like I'd been gutted and left to rot here on my own. I felt so alone and so lost. My family was gone, they had been for a long time. But now, my 'almost' family was gone too.
I didn't even know what happened to them. They could be lying face down in a ditch for all I knew. The hope of finding them again seemed pointless and torturous. But I just couldn't stop.
Taking the remains of the gum wrapper, I began placing them around the battery the way I'd seen Eli do it. I was just trying to piece that memory together. As if, somehow, putting that together would keep me together.
God, I wished more than anything I had my little brother back. Even just for a moment, just to give him a proper goodbye. To make sure he was safe. To . . . to . . .
My tears dripped over the wrapper, near soaking it as I moved it around. The little spark of hope left my chest, making my insides raw all over again. Doing this would accomplish nothing. The battery was probably dead anyway.
Then a spark snapped at the end of my fingers. A hot sting went through my hand. And I dropped the battery. The little flame around the wrapper shriveled for a moment, making me think it would just burn out. But then the covering of the mat began to curl and melt, the fire growing right before my eyes.
Okay, maybe it's not dead.
"Uh . . ." I tried calling over my shoulder, watching the fire spread across the mat, even onto the carpet. Slow, and yet, not slow at all. God, it smelled awful. "Guys?"
"Tarron!" An agent from across the room stomped towards me. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" Not on purpose anyway.
The flames licked up the walls, spreading still over the mats and gushing heat into the room. One of the girls behind me screamed. A young boy burst into tears and bolted for the exit. Most of the kids followed him.
The agents in the room managed to grab a few fire extinguishers and get it under control. But some poor kid had still pulled the fire alarm so the entire building was evacuated anyway. When the agents cornered me out in the open, a few were almost vibrating with rage. But the one at the very front was wearing a pleasantly surprised grin.
Zeron.
He'd been watching me since I got here. The moment that man laid his blond eyes on me, my skin began to crawl. That bastard tortured my brother. I wanted to make him bleed for it. That damn Calm Control device was the only thing that kept me from doing it.
He was there to greet me the night I arrived, with that shameless smile that made me want to go for his throat. He was always hanging around the corner. Always just in view of the locker room. His eyes always on my back in the atrium.
He was waiting for the perfect moment to corner me, what for, I had no idea. But he'd finally found his moment.
"Against the wall, Tarron," He raised an eyebrow, daring me to defy. "Let's just do this the easy way."
I blew a hot breath out of my nose, curling my hands into fists. "Fine," I replied. "I have nothing to hide."
Putting my palms against the concrete wall, Bagdwella came forward to frisk me for a lighter. Of course, she didn't find one.
"Then how the hell did she start the fire!" A man threw up his hands.
"Here," Zeron stepped forward and grabbed my arm, making sure to twist it enough to make me wince. "Why don't I bring her down to my office for a few questions?" He was already pulling towards the entrance. "Then we can sort this out -"
Zeron's hand was thrown off my arm in a split second, almost knocking me off my feet from the force. I turned back to see Varvatos throw Zeron several feet to the left, Zadra's hands going around my shoulders as I watched.
"Do not lay your hands on Varvatos's charge," Varvatos growled.
Zeron's pleasant facade fell, a glare showing through.
"Do not lay your hands on me," He spat back. "It is standard procedure."
"Aja has done nothing to provoke any kind of action," Zadra said, standing tall behind me. "She is under our care. We will attend to her needs for this situation here on."
"That's almost laughable," He sneered. "Your precious baby set our gymnasium a blaze -"
"Oh really?" I folded my arms. "Why don't you prove it?"
Zeron went very still.
Behind me, Zadra raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any proof to support your accusations?"
Zeron's face went the same shade my vice principal's had, all those years ago. I grinned.
"Then step away from Varvatos's charge," Varvatos snarled. "Or Varvatos will hang you by your thumbs!"
"Watch your tone, old man," Zeron snapped. "I don't care how tight you swaddle her, she still applies to the rules. A ticking time-bomb like her should apply to more rules if you ask me."
Zadra narrowed her eyes. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. "Need I remind you, Aja is a child. Do you have a problem with treating her as such?"
An unspoken threat went between them.
He regained his composure as quick as he'd lost it. "Of course not," He said. "The fires in the basement are under control. Now I would like to get back to our training session instead of wasting more time than we already have."
He grabbed me again on the way back to the gym, pulling me ahead of the others and around a corner.
"You won't have your babysitters around forever," He hissed in my ear. Then he shoved passed me and disappeared down the stairs.
I stared blankly after him for a moment. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
From then on, Zadra and Varvatos kept a close eye on me. Staying to watch as we trained. Coming to see me between classes. Waiting for me outside the locker room. It made me feel like a bug under a microscope. Like I had two extra shadows haunting me.
It wasn't until several days later that I realized why they were doing it.
That night, I awoke to my bedroom door opening, clicking and sliding against the door jam. It was enough to jostle me awake, the light pouring in from the hallway blinding me for a second.
Squinting, I sat up on the sheets, seeing someone sitting at the edge of my bed. Varvatos. But it was Zeron standing in the doorway. He was . . . smiling?
The second his eyes landed on Varvatos, the color in his face changed. First out of fear, then out of rage. As though he'd been outsmarted.
"Varvatos?" I blinked at him. "What are you - how long have you -" I looked at the alarm clock on my dresser. It was three in the morning.
I glared back at Zeron. "What are you doing here?"
"Leaving," Varvatos's voice was dark and slow as he rose to his feet. "Isn't that right, agent?"
Zeron took several measured breaths, as though it was taking all the strength in the world to keep his composure. When he turned his eyes on me, the same threat was still there. You won't have your babysitters forever.
"Wrong room," He said. "My mistake." Then turned, and slammed the door behind him.
"What - Varvatos -?" I shook my head several times to clear it. "Were you sitting in my room? How long have you been in here -"
"Aja, lay back," He pressed a rough hand to my shoulder, kneeling at my bedside as I went down. "Return to your rest. We can discuss this at a later time."
"I want to discuss it now," I reached out to grab his wrist. "What were you doing in my room? Why are you in my room? Why was Zeron -"
"Later, my princess," He pulled the blanket over my shoulder. "Rest now. You will need it."
The next night, I laid awake, watching the clock as I waited. It was near midnight when I heard Varvatos creep in, lowering himself on the edge of my bed. Cocking his gun. And then . . . nothing. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't even turn back to look at me, keeping his body facing the door.
He was watching. Waiting. Varvatos had been a bodyguard before, I knew that. But I never thought I would be the one who needed guarding.
I couldn't sleep the rest of that night, my mind far too busy trying to piece together what exactly Zeron wanted with me.
It was just as September was coming to an end that Varvatos and Zadra didn't show up to breakfast. Or lunch.
Around noon, I began to panic, remembering what had happened to Krel last time I thought not to worry about these kinds of things.
"Don't worry," Zeron lowered himself into the seat across from me in the atrium. "Your babysitters got called to an emergency Op. They will return later."
"What?" I blinked. "When?"
"Later," His grin became cold and cruel. "Why? Worried something might happen?"
I dug my fingernails into palms, fighting his icy eyes with the heat growing in my chest. "I'm not worried at all."
Zeron oversaw my training that afternoon, playing referee for the sparring matches between everyone in my age group. But when it was my turn, he came forward to arm my opponent with a baton.
"It's the standard weapon for PSFs," He said. "You should know how to defend against it."
I swallowed, looking at the long, black stick and trying not to see the place I'd become so acquainted with those things. Trying not to feel the permanent marks they'd left on me.
"Don't I get a weapon?" I asked. "Isn't that fair?"
"Life isn't fair," He winked. "Begin."
I had to swallow a second time when I turned back, bile gathering in my throat. But I lifted my chin and I straightened my back, just the way Mama used to. And I took on my opponent full force.
I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of seeing me back down.
I could block and hit just fine, but against the clear advantage, it was only a matter of time before the girl had knocked me onto the mats, slamming the baton against me again and again.
I started seeing the walls of Thurmond. Feeling the cold uniforms. Seeing the kids I knew there and their hollowed out faces. I heard the PSFs laughter as they beat against me for fun. The ridge between my brows was on fire.
"Stop!" I finally cried, throwing up a hand towards her. Blood was gushing from my nose and mouth, my entire body coated in sweat. "Stop - I'm done," I panted. "I'm done."
She threw a questioning glance at Zeron. He only gave her a single nod. And she wound the baton back for another blow.
I cried out as she cracked it against me, trying to writhe away from her. Trying to curl up to protect myself, the way I had so many times before. My vision kept going back between Thurmond and the gym, bouncing from face to face and pain to pain until I didn't know what was real and what wasn't. It was like I was drowning in my own mind.
Then the heat in my chest exploded.
"STOP!"
Sweeping her legs out from under her, I knocked her to the ground and twisted the baton out of her hands. It was a satisfying blast of energy that gave me the power to slam it into her. To finally watch someone else shudder under the force. Watch someone else's nose gush blood into their mouth. Watch someone else writhe to protect themselves.
I stopped, arm freezing in the air mid-strike. So this is what it feels like, I thought. This is what it feels like to be Kubritz.
My eyes darted to Zeron, a cruel yet proud smile on his face. He gave me the same nod.
I threw the baton down, letting it slap against the mats. And I stomped out of the gym.
I skipped dinner that night, my stomach too tied in knots to hold anything. I laid on my bed as I stared at the ceiling, my head full of static and my body covered with the familiar ache of fresh bruises.
The League is not Thurmond, Zadra had said.
Oh, like hell it's not.
We're told what to wear. When to eat. Where to sleep. How to work. All for the benefit of those who don't even see us as people.
Zeron opened the door before he knocked. "I noticed you weren't at dinner," He said. "Thought I'd come check on you."
I turned my head to look at him for a second. Then I glared back at the ceiling. "I'm fine."
He kicked the door shut behind him. I tried my very best not to flinch. Whatever he could give, I could take. He had no idea what I could handle.
"Quite the show you put on today," He said. "Didn't know you had a dramatic flare, Tarron."
Huh. When was the last time I'd heard my name said like it was a slur?
Oh, yeah.
"You're brother sure didn't have one."
I bolted up, eyes flashing and nostrils flared. I had to clench my hands in the sheets to keep from strangling him. One day, I promised myself. One day I'll make him pay. For everything.
"What do you want?" I snapped. "I'm done for the day."
"We decide when you're done," He made a show of the Calm Control device in his hand. "But this isn't about that."
"Get to the point."
"You know something I don't," He said. "And you're going to tell me it."
I curled my lip up at him. "What are you talking about?"
"Krel Tarron," He tilted his head at me, almost innocently. "I want to know where he is."
Something inside me went cold. I felt my nails bruising my palms through the sheet. "I don't know where he is."
"Is that so -" He reached for me but I ripped away, stepping off the bed and away from him.
"Don't touch me," I barked. "I don't know where he is. Goblins were there when we got picked up. They got him, not me." I swallowed. "He's gone, alright?"
"Yes," He twisted the device between his fingers. "You may have everyone else fooled with that story, but I've been paying attention. The agents that picked you up took a detour to a hospital the League uses. And if it wasn't for you, it must've been for him."
I held my voice steady. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You let him walk away," Zeron's eyes flared. "But you wouldn't have without keeping track of him somehow."
"He's gone," I spat back. "I don't know where he is. I don't even know if he's alive." I turned towards the door. "Just leave me alone."
His hand caught my arm, yanking me away from the open door. "You think you're getting away that easy?"
"Let go of me," I growled.
"Or what?" He pulled me flush against him, twisting the bruised flesh of my arm to make me wince. "What will you do, princess? No one's puppy guarding you now."
I whipped around, slamming my fist into his jaw and then shoving my knee into his side. He cried out, but recovered faster than I was prepared for. Suddenly, my back was slammed against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists on either sides of my head.
"You shouldn't have done that," He growled.
"Get off me!"
With a grunt, I brought my knee up and drove my foot between his legs. He howled, falling back against the wall.
"You . . ." He grabbed me around the middle before I could make it out the door, "little bitch."
I kicked wildly, screaming for someone to hear but they were all down in the atrium. He'd chosen the perfect moment to get me alone. The thought alone made me rigid with fear.
The struggle ended when he finally locked his elbow around my throat and clamped me against him, cutting off my air more and more with each passing second.
"You really think you can best me?" He breathed in my ear. "You're nothing but a child."
I jerked against his hold. "A child who could command you to blow your head right off your shoulders."
"Go ahead, try it," He laughed against the shell of my ear. "I dare you."
Heat spread through my chest. "I don't need to." And I rammed my elbow in his jaw.
The second he released me, I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked him the same way I had kicked Seamus. It was enough to knock him onto his side.
I almost thought I'd won.
But then he reached for the Calm Control in his pocket and White Noise sliced across my brain. I dropped to my knees, clamping my hands over my ears as I fought the urge to vomit. When it finally stopped, Zeron was gripping a fistful of my hair, forcing my head back to look at him.
"Face it," He grinned. "Here, I own you."
I trembled with rage. "No one owns me."
He wrenched me to my feet, forcing me forward without any warning, dragging me out into the hall the way PSFs used to. Both arms twisted behind my back.
"We'll see about that," He hissed.
He forced me down the stairs into the basement, his painful grip the only thing holding me up as I tripped over my feet. He brought me behind the gym, through locked closet doors, to some hidden elevator. And we descended another floor down.
A secret basement. The one Krel had told me about.
A cold stab of fear went through me. I was too valuable to experiment with. But that didn't make me invincible. Down here, he could do anything to me.
Once again, I was helpless.
He threw me into a spare room, lit up in blue from the fluorescent lights. My back hit one of the tables, covered in tools and medical supplies - all of which toppled onto me as it came crashing down.
Zeron slammed the door shut as he grinned down at me. I heard the click of a dead bolt coming into place. I swallowed.
"Do you know what we do to kids here?" He laughed, throwing out his arms. "This place? This is the place no one can hear you scream."
My chest was heaving, tightening with terror. "What do you want from me?"
"Where," His voice was guttural, "is Krel?"
I was sweating. My hands were shaking. "I don't know."
"You're lying."
I narrowed my eyes. "Prove it."
He grabbed at the back of my hair again, but I caught his wrist first, twisting it before landing a hard kick into his stomach. I drew back for a punch, then White Noise forced me to crumple to the floor. A heavy boot hit my ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs as barbed wire tore through my head.
When it finally stopped, I was laying flat on my back and I could barely breathe. Blood was pooling in my ears, dripping down the corners of my mouth. I was drenched in sweat now, gasping at the air with my eyes closed.
Zeron put his knee on my chest. "Where is he?"
"I . . . don't . . . know," I panted.
"That's a lie!"
More White Noise. I arched my back, screaming to try and cover the sound with my own. I screamed for the agents to hear. For the other kids. For someone - anyone to help. But all that came from it was me choking on my own blood.
You're alone, Seamus's voice hissed at me. And you always will be.
It ended, and I went limp again, gasping and twitching from the pain.
"Now tell me," His hand went against my forehead, driving my skull into the bleached tiles. "Where is he? Where did you send him?"
God, the ridge between my brows was on fire.
"Why . . ." I gasped. "Do you . . . care?"
"Call it a personal project," He sneered. "But you should really be more concerned about yourself. If you tell me one more lie -"
"I'm . . . not . . . lying."
I guess technically I wasn't. Zeron was halfway right when he said we wouldn't let Krel go without tracking him somehow. It was something in the backpack, Zadra called it a Chatter. It worked like a cellphone but it didn't send up a signal unless Krel wanted it to. Twice now, he had. Letting us know where he was and that he was okay. Traces of the signal were then instantly erased.
I didn't know where he was exactly. But I did know about eight days ago he was somewhere in Virginia.
Zeron would have to resurrect my cold, dead body if he wanted that information.
The White Noise came back on, the speaker teasing against my ear as I writhed. I screamed and kicked, desperately trying to get out from under him. But I was trapped. Raw and hollow inside.
I was exhausted.
"One more lie, Tarron," He reached over me, grabbing a scalpel from the many surgical tools scattered across the floor. "And I'll cut you."
I pinned my lips together, tears trailing down the sides of my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. I'd never thought about this happening. I'd never thought what to do if it did.
"Tell me where he is!"
"No!" I screamed back. "Get off me! Get away from me!"
"You know!" He brought the scalpel to my collar bone, dragging it in a line on the skin. Something hot and red seeped from there. "Tell me!"
"No!"
"Do it!"
"No!" I arched my back, clawing against him. "Stop it! Get off!"
He adjusted his hold on me, straddling my stomach with the bloody scalpel discarded beside us.
"I'm not going anywhere," He spat. "Until you tell me where that brat is. I know you know!"
"You don't know anything!" I screamed. "Get the hell away from me!"
"Tell me!"
"No!"
The White Noise switched back on and the world was drowned in it. By the time he turned it off again, it felt like I was underwater. I could barely even hear his voice. I could barely see anything other than those god awful fluorescent lights.
The thing that brought me back was the feeling of my legs being forced apart. I struggled, trying to pull my knees to my chest and kick him away, but Zeron had already rammed his hips between them, hard enough to jostle me.
My hands slammed into his chest, trying to throw him off me, but he was too heavy. I was too tired. My arms were trembling from the effort. Meanwhile, he began rubbing the speaker in circles against the shell of my ear.
"This doesn't have to get ugly."
"Believe me," I rasped. "This got ugly a while ago."
Not again, my mind screamed. Not again not again not again notagainnotagainnotagain
"This can all end right now," He pushed harder against me, a stab of pain coming from the bruising across my core. "All I need is a location."
I tore at his hold, arching my back as my collar bone stung cold. "Go . . . to . . . hell."
"We're already there," He grinned. "Now, you have one last chance. Tell me where he is."
My eyes shot up to meet his, all the fury inside me flashing in them. "Never."
And he smiled.
The White Noise exploded in my head like a bomb, shrapnel tearing through my ears. My entire body went numb to everything else, the vague knowledge of my body moving shoved to the back of my mind. At least what was left of it.
I felt his body weight pressing me down till I thought I would suffocate. I felt the pain in my collar seep up to the surface. I felt a hard tug on the waistband of my pants. And then -
The pressure was gone.
All the weight crushing me was lifted - thrown. Suddenly I could breathe. I could move. It took me until I opened my sticky eyelids that I realized the White Noise had been cut off just as quickly.
The pain was a raw pulse inside me as I sat up, my ears slowly registering the sound of crashing. Shouting. Skin pounding against skin. I pried myself up on my elbows, my chest heaving as my eyes finally adjusted.
". . . Varvatos?" I croaked.
He was on top of Zeron, punching him. Crushing him. Tables crashing. Glass shattering. Blood spurting across the tiles. Shouts that made my ears ring more than they already did.
"- touch Varvatos's granddaughter again and Varvatos will hang you from a noose of your own entrails!"
Yep, definitely Varvatos.
But wasn't he supposed to be . . . somewhere else?
Someone was touching me. Touching my face. I flinched away.
Something warm wrapped around me. The grinding noise faded to nothing in the background. The cold, bleached floor fell away from me. I saw Zadra's face, her eyes and her mouth moving. But I couldn't hear what she said.
Then she carried me away.
(A/N): let me know if ya'll have thoughts, i love hearing them!