It's amazing how hard it is to write with a crippled computer.. no joke. So
yeah that's my excuse. My humble apologies to all.
So I'll try to make this as long as possible. Lo siento (I'm sorry for those who aren't cool enough to be done with Spanish for the summer). .
Trevor sighed as he knocked on Sasha's bedroom door. He knew there was no way she had heard his knock because the Cold CD was blaring and he knew that she would only be sitting on her bed and glaring six inches from her feet. So he cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked in. His guess was correct: she was sitting on her bed with her chin on her knees and glaring at a spot on her mattress six inches in front of her feet.
She either didn't notice his arrival or didn't care to show that she did. He walked over to the stereo and hit the pause button. The silence was heavy with the angry and loud music absent.
"Turn it back on," she muttered.
"Sasha, we need to talk," he said softly.
She made no indication that she heard him so he sat down facing her.
"Sasha, I know what happened. It's nothing to worry about. It's just one punk. I can beat him up if you want. When I was in that battle room I was kickin ass! I mean I never knew I could fight that hard for that long! It was amazing! It was nothing like anything I've experienced, it was like I had new strength running through my muscles or, well, technically the bear's but you understand. It was amazing!" he had lost himself on his tangent and his eyes were lit up with excitement.
Sasha's head lifted when he began to speak of the battle room. Her eyes narrowed as she listened.
"Trevor, I think they're getting you," she mumbled.
"Come again?" he asked.
"They're getting you into just what they want,"
"And that is?" he asked.
"A bear-sark."
"A bear what?" he asked in utter confusion.
She sighed and shook her head. "You'd probably know it as a beserker. An unstoppable force in battle. You have no control over yourself and its nearly impossible to kill you. More than likely, if you go down, it's not because someone hit you, it's because your body wore out."
"And they're turning me into this?" he demanded.
"No, its always been in you. I've sensed it from the beginning. But the bear-sark only surfaces if you are looking for it normally, and they're looking for it."
A low rumble emanated from his chest.
She closed her eyes as she felt the bear fighting to get out and kill something. She felt its blood lust. She quieted it and Trevor's rumbling subsided.
"Was that it?" he asked after a moment or two of silence.
"Yes," Sasha said simply resting her chin back on her knees.
"So it's the bear, I can take care of this. No problem. I just won't be the bear and I'm fine. No biggie," he said confidently.
Sasha sighed.
"That was a sigh of 'Trevor-you're-absolutely-wrong-but-I'm-not-going-to- say-anything'," he said.
"Just go," she said closing her eyes.
"No, what am I missing? You can't kick me out now," he protested.
His protests were quelled when she gave him a withering glare. He huffed and stood. He turned when he reached the door. She was looking at the bed but he knew she knew exactly what was going on.
"Whatever is eating at you, you can't just sit and glare at that bed. You're going to have to leave this room sometime," with that, he turned and left.
Sasha sighed hard. When she knew he was gone, she let her arm from around her shin and looked at her wrist. The blood had begun to dry but the message was still clear. A tear slid down her cheek as she read it one more time.
THE MASTER KNOWS
Trevor stalked down the hallway and crashed on the couch in the commons. It was clear he was agitated. The rain pounded on the windows, a reflection of how he felt.
"Didn't go well?" John asked.
"Gee, see if you can state the obvious a little faster next time," Jessica hissed at him.
Trevor tipped his head back and rested it on the back of the couch.
"I don't know what to do, she wouldn't talk. No matter what I said, she just stared at the bed. I just don't know," he said. He left out his discovery of his inner bear-sark because he knew that it would be impossible for them to understand.
"Just let her be," Amber said picking up a card in her game with Jessica. "There's nothing we can do. If she doesn't want to talk, she doesn't want to talk. You know how stubborn she is. Just let her be, for tonight at least."
Trevor sighed. "I guess you're right,"
"I'm always right," Amber said cheerfully revealing her hand of cards to Jessica. Jessica sighed and dropped hers.
A loud clap of thunder roared in the building and the electricity went out. Several students screamed but Jessica had it covered. Several orbs of light were floating on the ceiling and light was slowly being restored. "Damn storm," she muttered.
Sasha felt someone pulling at her spirit, beckoning her. It wasn't until her wrist began to bleed again that she knew who it was. She sighed and the familiar warm breeze blew in her room. When she opened her eyes she stood in the room that she had stood in not 24 hours ago with Trevor.
The room was empty save for one man. He was rather tall and imposing. Balder (more bald? I dunno, fuck English it's summer) than the day he was born. It was impossible to tell his nationality in the dim light that a fire on the opposite side of the room was providing. He wore black pants that were pressed and ironed neatly. Neatly pressed as they were, his pants seemed slightly out of place for he wore nothing else. He stood imposingly with his arms crossed over his chest as she stood staring at him.
They stood in silence with a tension that was bound to snap in an instant.
"You denied Ryan," he said simply.
"And if I did?" she asked icily.
"You are the only one to have ever done that," he stated a monotonous tone again.
"And that was the cause for this?" she demanded raising her right arm, exposing the bloodied forearm.
"You are written in our prophecies," he said, again monotonously.
"Wooptie fucking do," she hissed. "Why should I care?"
Her language and tone had found a crack in his seemingly impenetrable façade. A blaze was lit behind his eyes but was quelled in an instant. If Sasha had blinked, she would have missed it. She smiled inwardly.
"Your bear-sark will die if you do not aid us," he said with a hint of a smile.
Sasha's eyes were a solid gold and there was no emotion but rage. Her hidden wings flared behind her.
"Is that a challenge?!?" she roared.
"As I had thought, the bear-sark will not die if you agree to fulfil the prophecies," he said with a malicious smile on his face.
Sasha was screaming every profane word and curse that she knew in her head. On the outside, her eyes faded to red and her wings relaxed.
"Fine then,"
"Good."
Trevor decided to give Sasha another shot and was walking toward her room again. This time, the music was silent and he knocked solidly on her door.
"Sasha?" he called.
No response.
"Sash?" he called again. "I'm coming in so you can't yell at me if I see more than you intend."
He opened the door and she wasn't there.
"Odd," he muttered to himself.
He sat down on the floor as a wolf and began to sniff for her scent. All he found was a tinge of ash on the air and that was it.
He stood up as himself and walked out of her room and began to search for her.
Sasha stood in the middle of the dark room. She shifted her weight on the cold metal floor and extended her senses out beyond the darkness. The lights turned on with a brutal vengeance to reek havoc on her eyes. They did not though, her eyes were closed but she saw all that was unfolding before her. She could sense her opponents coming at her but she merely stood there. It wasn't until she sensed the first opponent merely feet from her that she drew a long and beautiful katana and neatly sliced him in two.
She opened her eyes as she sidestepped the attack of one and met the neck of another. She wasn't sure what it was that she was fighting but they were hardly any match for her. Their black cloaked forms moved eerily over the floor but they were not as fast as she was. When she would kill one, it would merely evaporate and two would replace it. She paid the replacements no mind until she tore them down.
Not one had laid a hand on her as she fought but the light was failing again. The lights settled at a dim level and the shapes had no definite edges and they meshed together in the low light. A high pitched scream every once in a while disrupted her sense of them and it grew hard to sense them as they came upon her. She fought with no less intensity and it was as pristine as ever, she had not gotten sloppy with the distractions.
Something leapt at her and she readied herself to strike it before it hit her when a blade was planted between her shoulders. She still held her sword up to kill the thing that leapt at her when the blade began to twist and burn. It was then she lost feeling in her arm and her katana clattered to the floor, her body not soon after it.
She was still conscious, she was merely paralyzed.
"A valiant fight Hawk, but apparently not good enough," Ryan's melodic voice laughed from behind her.
She growled softly from the floor at him. In all through her fighting, he had begun to call her Hawk for her tawny wings. She loathed him all the more for it.
"Yes, well, you bull headed hijo de peluta just seem to find a way around it every time. If I can't use my power, why can you use yours?"
"Eyo of a what!?!" he demanded.
The paralyzing poison had begun to ware off and she began to sit up.
"You heard me, hijo de peluta!"
He stared at her blankly and she used the tip of her katana to stand up. She rolled her eyes.
"Means 'son of a bitch' you son of a bitch," she said, letting a hint of a smile slip.
'Am I flirting with him? I think I am?!?! The devil...' she thought to herself and dropped her smile.
"Again," she said and pulled the dagger from her shoulder and tossed it at him.
"Bandages?" he asked.
"No, go again."
He sighed and pocketed the dagger. The lights went totally out this time and she reset her stance.
"You're sure?" he called from another corner of the room.
She inclined her head to acknowledge him but she said nothing.
"Fine then,"
The loud clang of steel rang out as their swords danced. His was a great deal larger than her katana and had two sharp edges opposed to her one. Her steps were light and agile as she met his volleys. She made no indication if her shoulder was causing her any pain for she moved just as she had in her previous battle.
Sasha leapt backwards and stood around 10 feet from Ryan. She had sheathed her katana and he held his sword in front of him defensively. She tapped the pad of her foot on the ground twice and broke out into a sprint at him. She ran with her hand on the hilt of her katana and when she was a foot from him she drew it, intending to slice him. Her blade passed clearly through him but it brought no blood. All she got from her attack was his sheath slapped across her back. A stud that adorned his sheath hit her in her profusely bleeding stab wound. She stumbled and fell.
He was breathing heavily as he stood over her. Sasha had propped herself up on her elbow and looked up at him from the floor.
"That's all I'm going to do for now. You are in absolutely no condition to fight any more. Come on, I'm raiding the kitchen," he said outstretching a hand to her.
She ignored it and stood up on her own.
"I'd rather have a shower," she said.
He sighed. "Fine, I'll show you where to go. Here, I'll take your sword and it can be cleaned- wait, where is your sword?"
She smiled.
"Well?" he asked.
"And why should I tell you?" she questioned.
"Because I asked?" he said.
"Not a good enough reason. Now, the shower?" she asked.
He sighed and began to walk out the door. She followed him down the corridor and around a few corners until he led her to a small room. There was gray and black tile along the floor and walls and showerheads peeked out of the wall every few feet or so. The floor dipped down on the edges and a small gutter led to drains in the corner.
"The showers," he said with a dramatic flick of his hands.
"Don't you have any that are less," she paused looking for the word, "communal?"
"Nope. Everything else in this whole building is solitary save for the showers. Builds trust and things like that I guess. Never did understand it," he said with a shrug.
"I don't shower with a pack full of strangers," she stated simply.
Ryan sighed.
"Fine. I'll have a servant stand at the door and not let anyone in. You'll be in alone. But don't expect this kind of treatment to last for long."
Sasha smiled. "I don't expect it to. I just need it to last long enough."
Ryan rolled his eyes and began to walk out. He paused at the door and turned. "I'll have her bring you new clothes too. Oh, by the way, I don't think I've ever fought so hard in my life." With that he left.
Sasha watched him walk away and smiled inwardly. A moment later a white robed woman came in with her head bowed. She carried a basket of shampoos, conditioners, loofahs, and bottles of smelly things in one arm. In the other she held clothes and a towel. She rested them on a stool by the door then promptly stood in the door with her back to the showers.
Sasha shrugged and grabbed the basket. With a wary glance at the servant, she took off her shirt and pants. She turned on a faucet on the wall adjacent to the door. Hot water began to pulse out of the faucet and steam followed shortly. She stepped into the stream, biting her lip as the water had begun to drip into her open wound.
Reaching over into her pants pocket she produced a small jar. Opening it, she dipped her fingers into a gray-green salve and worked it into her wound. The bloody cut began to close itself up and by the time she had the salve in her pocket again and she was back under the water, her wound had healed with little more than a scar. Sasha began to lather a strawberry scented shampoo in her hair and began to hum a song that she had heard on the radio earlier. The suds dripped down her body as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and scrubbed her scalp. She squirted out some conditioner and rubbed it through the ends of her long auburn hair. She used a loofah and used some of the sweet smelling body wash that was in the basket.
By the time she was rinsed and dry, an hour had passed. There was a semi- long black skirt and a black tank top with a pair of jeans and a long sleeved black shirt in the pile that the servant had brought. She slipped on the jeans that the servant and pulled the tank top on. As an afterthought, she slipped the skirt on over the jeans and looked at herself in a long mirror that was still partly clouded with fog. She smiled at herself. The tank top's sequins and beads that were intricately placed sparkled neatly in the fluorescent light of the shower room.
Ignoring the shoes underneath the stool she walked past the servant, startling her. The woman bowed deeply and Sasha ignored her, walking down the hallway in search of Ryan.
"It's been a week man, what if she left on her own?" John asked Trevor gently.
"SHE WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT WITHOUT TELLING ME!!" Trevor yelled back at his best friend.
John shrank back from Trevor and sunk back in the couch with his book. Trevor sighed hard and rested his forehead in his hands.
"Look, John, I'm sorry. I just can't believe that she just left. She would have told me, she would have told us," Trevor said looking at his friend.
John died a little inside when he saw the look in his friend's eyes. Trevor had not slept more than an hour in the past week and when he did he woke from nightmares. He was more aggressive and edgy than usual and he was quick to snap at someone. His temper was easily ignited and he was hard to stop when he did get mad.
John sighed.
"She'll come home man, don't worry. She'll return," John said with less conviction than he wished he could say.
"Who will?" a familiar voice said from the doorway. Both boys were up in an instant, staring at Sasha in the doorway.
Trevor ran at her, arms open for a hug, but when he came within three feet of her, she vanished. The room fell into darkness and he woke up panting hard. It was the third time that week that Trevor had had that dream. He hated it. He knew his friends were worried about him and that he probably seemed crazy, but he needed Sasha.
Papers piled on his desk of failed and undone homework. His half of the room was a mess, clothes and books discarded on the floor. John's side looked immaculate compared to his; and that was almost impossible to believe.
Trevor lay awake in his bed, watching the ceiling.
"Sasha, come back to me," he whispered into the darkness and rolled onto his side facing the wall as he counted down from ten to calm the raging animals in his head.
Sasha found Ryan in the kitchen as he had said he would be. She sat on the counter and picked out chips from his plate as he ate a sandwich. She smiled sweetly whenever he made an attempt to scold her for stealing them.
The master walked in the kitchen and both looked up at him intently.
"The bear-sark must come with us," he stated.
Sasha's eyes flashed but returned to crimson. "He stays where he is, the agreement was you left him alone,"
"I agreed not to kill him. Plus, if he is not brought here and either trained or restrained he will kill all he is around. He is not capable of watching his bear-sark. He will lose it and kill them," the master stated simply.
Sasha growled. "Fine, he comes here."
Ok, that's as long as I can do at the moment. It's eight pages. Be proud. Summer! WOOT!!
Oh btw, I prolly botched the spanish farther up. If I did I'm sry, tell me how to fix it if I'm wrong but I think I'm right. I feel like some food. Wanna send me some?
Later kids
So I'll try to make this as long as possible. Lo siento (I'm sorry for those who aren't cool enough to be done with Spanish for the summer). .
Trevor sighed as he knocked on Sasha's bedroom door. He knew there was no way she had heard his knock because the Cold CD was blaring and he knew that she would only be sitting on her bed and glaring six inches from her feet. So he cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked in. His guess was correct: she was sitting on her bed with her chin on her knees and glaring at a spot on her mattress six inches in front of her feet.
She either didn't notice his arrival or didn't care to show that she did. He walked over to the stereo and hit the pause button. The silence was heavy with the angry and loud music absent.
"Turn it back on," she muttered.
"Sasha, we need to talk," he said softly.
She made no indication that she heard him so he sat down facing her.
"Sasha, I know what happened. It's nothing to worry about. It's just one punk. I can beat him up if you want. When I was in that battle room I was kickin ass! I mean I never knew I could fight that hard for that long! It was amazing! It was nothing like anything I've experienced, it was like I had new strength running through my muscles or, well, technically the bear's but you understand. It was amazing!" he had lost himself on his tangent and his eyes were lit up with excitement.
Sasha's head lifted when he began to speak of the battle room. Her eyes narrowed as she listened.
"Trevor, I think they're getting you," she mumbled.
"Come again?" he asked.
"They're getting you into just what they want,"
"And that is?" he asked.
"A bear-sark."
"A bear what?" he asked in utter confusion.
She sighed and shook her head. "You'd probably know it as a beserker. An unstoppable force in battle. You have no control over yourself and its nearly impossible to kill you. More than likely, if you go down, it's not because someone hit you, it's because your body wore out."
"And they're turning me into this?" he demanded.
"No, its always been in you. I've sensed it from the beginning. But the bear-sark only surfaces if you are looking for it normally, and they're looking for it."
A low rumble emanated from his chest.
She closed her eyes as she felt the bear fighting to get out and kill something. She felt its blood lust. She quieted it and Trevor's rumbling subsided.
"Was that it?" he asked after a moment or two of silence.
"Yes," Sasha said simply resting her chin back on her knees.
"So it's the bear, I can take care of this. No problem. I just won't be the bear and I'm fine. No biggie," he said confidently.
Sasha sighed.
"That was a sigh of 'Trevor-you're-absolutely-wrong-but-I'm-not-going-to- say-anything'," he said.
"Just go," she said closing her eyes.
"No, what am I missing? You can't kick me out now," he protested.
His protests were quelled when she gave him a withering glare. He huffed and stood. He turned when he reached the door. She was looking at the bed but he knew she knew exactly what was going on.
"Whatever is eating at you, you can't just sit and glare at that bed. You're going to have to leave this room sometime," with that, he turned and left.
Sasha sighed hard. When she knew he was gone, she let her arm from around her shin and looked at her wrist. The blood had begun to dry but the message was still clear. A tear slid down her cheek as she read it one more time.
THE MASTER KNOWS
Trevor stalked down the hallway and crashed on the couch in the commons. It was clear he was agitated. The rain pounded on the windows, a reflection of how he felt.
"Didn't go well?" John asked.
"Gee, see if you can state the obvious a little faster next time," Jessica hissed at him.
Trevor tipped his head back and rested it on the back of the couch.
"I don't know what to do, she wouldn't talk. No matter what I said, she just stared at the bed. I just don't know," he said. He left out his discovery of his inner bear-sark because he knew that it would be impossible for them to understand.
"Just let her be," Amber said picking up a card in her game with Jessica. "There's nothing we can do. If she doesn't want to talk, she doesn't want to talk. You know how stubborn she is. Just let her be, for tonight at least."
Trevor sighed. "I guess you're right,"
"I'm always right," Amber said cheerfully revealing her hand of cards to Jessica. Jessica sighed and dropped hers.
A loud clap of thunder roared in the building and the electricity went out. Several students screamed but Jessica had it covered. Several orbs of light were floating on the ceiling and light was slowly being restored. "Damn storm," she muttered.
Sasha felt someone pulling at her spirit, beckoning her. It wasn't until her wrist began to bleed again that she knew who it was. She sighed and the familiar warm breeze blew in her room. When she opened her eyes she stood in the room that she had stood in not 24 hours ago with Trevor.
The room was empty save for one man. He was rather tall and imposing. Balder (more bald? I dunno, fuck English it's summer) than the day he was born. It was impossible to tell his nationality in the dim light that a fire on the opposite side of the room was providing. He wore black pants that were pressed and ironed neatly. Neatly pressed as they were, his pants seemed slightly out of place for he wore nothing else. He stood imposingly with his arms crossed over his chest as she stood staring at him.
They stood in silence with a tension that was bound to snap in an instant.
"You denied Ryan," he said simply.
"And if I did?" she asked icily.
"You are the only one to have ever done that," he stated a monotonous tone again.
"And that was the cause for this?" she demanded raising her right arm, exposing the bloodied forearm.
"You are written in our prophecies," he said, again monotonously.
"Wooptie fucking do," she hissed. "Why should I care?"
Her language and tone had found a crack in his seemingly impenetrable façade. A blaze was lit behind his eyes but was quelled in an instant. If Sasha had blinked, she would have missed it. She smiled inwardly.
"Your bear-sark will die if you do not aid us," he said with a hint of a smile.
Sasha's eyes were a solid gold and there was no emotion but rage. Her hidden wings flared behind her.
"Is that a challenge?!?" she roared.
"As I had thought, the bear-sark will not die if you agree to fulfil the prophecies," he said with a malicious smile on his face.
Sasha was screaming every profane word and curse that she knew in her head. On the outside, her eyes faded to red and her wings relaxed.
"Fine then,"
"Good."
Trevor decided to give Sasha another shot and was walking toward her room again. This time, the music was silent and he knocked solidly on her door.
"Sasha?" he called.
No response.
"Sash?" he called again. "I'm coming in so you can't yell at me if I see more than you intend."
He opened the door and she wasn't there.
"Odd," he muttered to himself.
He sat down on the floor as a wolf and began to sniff for her scent. All he found was a tinge of ash on the air and that was it.
He stood up as himself and walked out of her room and began to search for her.
Sasha stood in the middle of the dark room. She shifted her weight on the cold metal floor and extended her senses out beyond the darkness. The lights turned on with a brutal vengeance to reek havoc on her eyes. They did not though, her eyes were closed but she saw all that was unfolding before her. She could sense her opponents coming at her but she merely stood there. It wasn't until she sensed the first opponent merely feet from her that she drew a long and beautiful katana and neatly sliced him in two.
She opened her eyes as she sidestepped the attack of one and met the neck of another. She wasn't sure what it was that she was fighting but they were hardly any match for her. Their black cloaked forms moved eerily over the floor but they were not as fast as she was. When she would kill one, it would merely evaporate and two would replace it. She paid the replacements no mind until she tore them down.
Not one had laid a hand on her as she fought but the light was failing again. The lights settled at a dim level and the shapes had no definite edges and they meshed together in the low light. A high pitched scream every once in a while disrupted her sense of them and it grew hard to sense them as they came upon her. She fought with no less intensity and it was as pristine as ever, she had not gotten sloppy with the distractions.
Something leapt at her and she readied herself to strike it before it hit her when a blade was planted between her shoulders. She still held her sword up to kill the thing that leapt at her when the blade began to twist and burn. It was then she lost feeling in her arm and her katana clattered to the floor, her body not soon after it.
She was still conscious, she was merely paralyzed.
"A valiant fight Hawk, but apparently not good enough," Ryan's melodic voice laughed from behind her.
She growled softly from the floor at him. In all through her fighting, he had begun to call her Hawk for her tawny wings. She loathed him all the more for it.
"Yes, well, you bull headed hijo de peluta just seem to find a way around it every time. If I can't use my power, why can you use yours?"
"Eyo of a what!?!" he demanded.
The paralyzing poison had begun to ware off and she began to sit up.
"You heard me, hijo de peluta!"
He stared at her blankly and she used the tip of her katana to stand up. She rolled her eyes.
"Means 'son of a bitch' you son of a bitch," she said, letting a hint of a smile slip.
'Am I flirting with him? I think I am?!?! The devil...' she thought to herself and dropped her smile.
"Again," she said and pulled the dagger from her shoulder and tossed it at him.
"Bandages?" he asked.
"No, go again."
He sighed and pocketed the dagger. The lights went totally out this time and she reset her stance.
"You're sure?" he called from another corner of the room.
She inclined her head to acknowledge him but she said nothing.
"Fine then,"
The loud clang of steel rang out as their swords danced. His was a great deal larger than her katana and had two sharp edges opposed to her one. Her steps were light and agile as she met his volleys. She made no indication if her shoulder was causing her any pain for she moved just as she had in her previous battle.
Sasha leapt backwards and stood around 10 feet from Ryan. She had sheathed her katana and he held his sword in front of him defensively. She tapped the pad of her foot on the ground twice and broke out into a sprint at him. She ran with her hand on the hilt of her katana and when she was a foot from him she drew it, intending to slice him. Her blade passed clearly through him but it brought no blood. All she got from her attack was his sheath slapped across her back. A stud that adorned his sheath hit her in her profusely bleeding stab wound. She stumbled and fell.
He was breathing heavily as he stood over her. Sasha had propped herself up on her elbow and looked up at him from the floor.
"That's all I'm going to do for now. You are in absolutely no condition to fight any more. Come on, I'm raiding the kitchen," he said outstretching a hand to her.
She ignored it and stood up on her own.
"I'd rather have a shower," she said.
He sighed. "Fine, I'll show you where to go. Here, I'll take your sword and it can be cleaned- wait, where is your sword?"
She smiled.
"Well?" he asked.
"And why should I tell you?" she questioned.
"Because I asked?" he said.
"Not a good enough reason. Now, the shower?" she asked.
He sighed and began to walk out the door. She followed him down the corridor and around a few corners until he led her to a small room. There was gray and black tile along the floor and walls and showerheads peeked out of the wall every few feet or so. The floor dipped down on the edges and a small gutter led to drains in the corner.
"The showers," he said with a dramatic flick of his hands.
"Don't you have any that are less," she paused looking for the word, "communal?"
"Nope. Everything else in this whole building is solitary save for the showers. Builds trust and things like that I guess. Never did understand it," he said with a shrug.
"I don't shower with a pack full of strangers," she stated simply.
Ryan sighed.
"Fine. I'll have a servant stand at the door and not let anyone in. You'll be in alone. But don't expect this kind of treatment to last for long."
Sasha smiled. "I don't expect it to. I just need it to last long enough."
Ryan rolled his eyes and began to walk out. He paused at the door and turned. "I'll have her bring you new clothes too. Oh, by the way, I don't think I've ever fought so hard in my life." With that he left.
Sasha watched him walk away and smiled inwardly. A moment later a white robed woman came in with her head bowed. She carried a basket of shampoos, conditioners, loofahs, and bottles of smelly things in one arm. In the other she held clothes and a towel. She rested them on a stool by the door then promptly stood in the door with her back to the showers.
Sasha shrugged and grabbed the basket. With a wary glance at the servant, she took off her shirt and pants. She turned on a faucet on the wall adjacent to the door. Hot water began to pulse out of the faucet and steam followed shortly. She stepped into the stream, biting her lip as the water had begun to drip into her open wound.
Reaching over into her pants pocket she produced a small jar. Opening it, she dipped her fingers into a gray-green salve and worked it into her wound. The bloody cut began to close itself up and by the time she had the salve in her pocket again and she was back under the water, her wound had healed with little more than a scar. Sasha began to lather a strawberry scented shampoo in her hair and began to hum a song that she had heard on the radio earlier. The suds dripped down her body as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and scrubbed her scalp. She squirted out some conditioner and rubbed it through the ends of her long auburn hair. She used a loofah and used some of the sweet smelling body wash that was in the basket.
By the time she was rinsed and dry, an hour had passed. There was a semi- long black skirt and a black tank top with a pair of jeans and a long sleeved black shirt in the pile that the servant had brought. She slipped on the jeans that the servant and pulled the tank top on. As an afterthought, she slipped the skirt on over the jeans and looked at herself in a long mirror that was still partly clouded with fog. She smiled at herself. The tank top's sequins and beads that were intricately placed sparkled neatly in the fluorescent light of the shower room.
Ignoring the shoes underneath the stool she walked past the servant, startling her. The woman bowed deeply and Sasha ignored her, walking down the hallway in search of Ryan.
"It's been a week man, what if she left on her own?" John asked Trevor gently.
"SHE WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT WITHOUT TELLING ME!!" Trevor yelled back at his best friend.
John shrank back from Trevor and sunk back in the couch with his book. Trevor sighed hard and rested his forehead in his hands.
"Look, John, I'm sorry. I just can't believe that she just left. She would have told me, she would have told us," Trevor said looking at his friend.
John died a little inside when he saw the look in his friend's eyes. Trevor had not slept more than an hour in the past week and when he did he woke from nightmares. He was more aggressive and edgy than usual and he was quick to snap at someone. His temper was easily ignited and he was hard to stop when he did get mad.
John sighed.
"She'll come home man, don't worry. She'll return," John said with less conviction than he wished he could say.
"Who will?" a familiar voice said from the doorway. Both boys were up in an instant, staring at Sasha in the doorway.
Trevor ran at her, arms open for a hug, but when he came within three feet of her, she vanished. The room fell into darkness and he woke up panting hard. It was the third time that week that Trevor had had that dream. He hated it. He knew his friends were worried about him and that he probably seemed crazy, but he needed Sasha.
Papers piled on his desk of failed and undone homework. His half of the room was a mess, clothes and books discarded on the floor. John's side looked immaculate compared to his; and that was almost impossible to believe.
Trevor lay awake in his bed, watching the ceiling.
"Sasha, come back to me," he whispered into the darkness and rolled onto his side facing the wall as he counted down from ten to calm the raging animals in his head.
Sasha found Ryan in the kitchen as he had said he would be. She sat on the counter and picked out chips from his plate as he ate a sandwich. She smiled sweetly whenever he made an attempt to scold her for stealing them.
The master walked in the kitchen and both looked up at him intently.
"The bear-sark must come with us," he stated.
Sasha's eyes flashed but returned to crimson. "He stays where he is, the agreement was you left him alone,"
"I agreed not to kill him. Plus, if he is not brought here and either trained or restrained he will kill all he is around. He is not capable of watching his bear-sark. He will lose it and kill them," the master stated simply.
Sasha growled. "Fine, he comes here."
Ok, that's as long as I can do at the moment. It's eight pages. Be proud. Summer! WOOT!!
Oh btw, I prolly botched the spanish farther up. If I did I'm sry, tell me how to fix it if I'm wrong but I think I'm right. I feel like some food. Wanna send me some?
Later kids