Chapter 4. Inferno
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Bella's POV
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Bella whimpered as she took off her jacket, the sharp pain indicating that she had torn out a few stitches, yet again.
"Great," she mumbled and tossed the garment away. She could deal with that later. Instead of doing the sensible thing and looking at the extent of her injuries after the gruesome day of pretending that every joint wasn't on fire, she simply limped over to the couch and gingerly sat down.
It was then she allowed herself to sigh and the tension in her shoulders seeped away. Bella wondered why she had even bothered to attend school today. It was hard enough to endure the pain but combined with the stares and endless questions about her state, it was pure hell. She should have stayed home. Angela's worried looks still haunted her somewhat. She had done her best to evade the onslaught of questions, but she knew the other girl did not believe a word she said.
The only good part of her day was Bella's conversation with Rosalie Hale. A small smile touched her lips at the thought of the beautiful girl. She was a delightful surprise. Bella had always felt a certain kind of pull to Rosalie but chalked it up as curiosity. After all the girl's name had been on everyone's lips ever since the Cullen's had moved to Forks. She always seemed so untouchable, holding everyone at a certain kind of distance with an aloof expression, which Jessica had declared as resting-ice-bitch-face. There were a few other unkind words directed towards the blonde beauty, but Bella decided early on to not form an opinion until she actually interacted with the girl.
Their first conversation shattered any illusion she had about the blonde. Rosalie Hale was undoubtably adorable. She was clearly intelligent and always seemed so sure of herself, but Bella couldn't help but to think Rosalie was nervous around her. Which was a strange notion in itself, as Bella didn't think of herself as particularly intimidating. Still, the beautiful blonde stuttered and even dropped a book at one point. It was entirely endearing. Bella knew there was a lot more to Rosalie Hale, a complexity she was truly fascinated by.
"I struck a nerve before," Bella mused to herself out loud, remembering Rosalie's startled expression at Bella's question about morality. If things were different, she would love nothing more but to unravel the mystery that was Rosalie Hale. Bella knew that was a selfish endeavour.
If only Rosalie knew what Bella was capable of. The blonde would run for the hills and not stop there.
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Flashback
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It was then when she noticed the smell. It was if a brick had hit her nose by the overwhelming scent; a mixture of dirt, blood, body sweat, body fluids and something rotten that she could not properly place. It was without a doubt the worst smell she had even encountered in her life. Scrunching up her nose in distaste, she tried to breathe through her mouth and focus on the situation at hand. Bella wanted to cry at this new predicament. Where was she? How could she get out of here? She needed information and fast.
An unexpected loud clinking noise from afar made her flinch backwards. She glanced to her right and watched as every head snap up at the noise, panic evident in their eyes. Bella gulped, her heartbeat racing as she wondered what was going to happen next.
She caught the eyes of one of the women, who was staring at her in surprise and no small amount of suspicion. Bella studied the woman and her worries only intensified as she took her in. The woman was incredibly thin, bruises littered all over her exposed body parts, greasy black hair hung limp; a few stray locks stuck to her forehead. She had a big black eye on the right and a few smaller ones on her cheeks and jaw alongside a huge scar that reached from her forehead, through her left eye (which was miraculously undamaged) and disappeared down her jaw. It wasn't exactly the most reassuring sight for the assessment of her situation or whereabouts. What surprised her though was the intelligent gleam in those eyes as she studied Bella in return.
Another loud noise, this time sounding nearer, broke off the staring competition and Bella flinched again. She glanced fearfully at the prison bars and wondered if this was the way she was going to die, in some dingy prison dungeon surrounded by filthy broken women. She honestly thought karma existed, especially after all the things life had put her through and couldn't help but to think of the injustice of it all if this was her sealed fate. However, this could also be perfect since she had already made a decision to die.
The noise sounded again, and Bella closed her eyes in resignation, she might as well give up now.
A pair of hands grabbed onto her and her eyes snapped open, only to see the same woman from before kneeling in front of her, her face uncomfortably close to her own. Her bad breath made Bella's eyes sting with tears, and she never thought human hygiene as important as in that moment. The woman spoke to her in a frantic raspy voice in a different language that Bella couldn't place. Maybe Greek? The woman stared at her expectantly, but Bella could only blink in confusion. The woman let out an annoyed huff and repeated her words, but Bella made no sense of them.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand you," she said apologetically, and the woman's eyes widened in surprise.
Throwing one look at the prison bars, the woman took a fistful of dirt and smeared it across Bella's cheek. Startled and quite affronted by the action, Bella reeled back and glared at her.
The woman said something again and looked completely exasperated by Bella's lack of understanding. After a moment she simply grabbed another fistful of dirt and made a gesture for Bella to rub it on her face. Puzzled by the request, Bella simply stared at her. If the situation had allowed it, Bella would have been amused by the way the woman rolled her eyes at her, but alas no humour was to be found at the moment.
Finally, the woman pointed at Bella's clothes and then at her own sorry excuse of a dress. Following her line of sight, Bella looked down at her own blue T-shirt and black skinny jeans and shoes before looking back up to meet the woman's eyes. She was staring at Bella with that same expectant look as before and a lightbulb went off in Bella's head. She wanted her to dirty up her clothes and attire to draw less attention to herself with for what was to come.
Nodding her head sharply, Bella grabbed a fistful of dirt and quickly started smearing it on her clothes and face, even in her hair as much as it disgusted her. The woman looked relieved that she finally got her meaning and began helping her. Soon the two of them had covered Bella in as much filth as possible in that short amount of time. When the task was done, Bella looked up at the woman for further guidance. The woman pointed at Bella's shoes and Bella quickly caught on and discarded them, along with her socks and threw them in the corner. Bella noticed then she was still bleeding profusely from the wound she had meant to kill herself from and quickly ripped a strip from the bottom of the shirt, using it as a bandage to put pressure on the wound. She swallowed the bile that threatened to come up her throat at the nauseating feeling and blood loss and forced herself to concentrate at the situation. She knew without a doubt that her face was drained of its usual healthy colour. With a satisfying nod, the woman finally pulled Bella towards the wall and gestured for her to sit beside her and copy her movements, which Bella did without protest.
The noise sounded awfully close now and she was more afraid than she had ever been in her life, and that spoke volumes. Bella had only just fixed her stare on the dirty matted floor when the loud voices of men could be heard just outside the cell. It was also in a language Bella did not recognise for the life of her, as she scrambled to go through her limited knowledge on the sounds of different languages. The only plausible thing she could come up with that it sounded like Latin, but then again, she was not sure. After all, no one spoke Latin anymore. Sadly her knowledge of languages was lacking, mostly English and a few chosen phrases in Spanish and French. Whatever language it was, Bella could tell they were saying something crude and offensive, followed by harsh laughter.
She wasn't sure how many of them were but at least more than three. Suddenly the door to the cell flew open and someone entered. Bella did not dare to look up, in the fear of being exposed as someone new and alien. The men barked something at the prisoners, but no one answered.
Then a sound of something hitting flesh and a painful whimper made Bella glance up. A big man in a long red tunic, a sword and knifes strapped to his waist, full unkempt beard and an equally unkempt hair poorly hidden under metal helmet. He was towering over one of the women on the opposite wall, hand in the air as she had one hand cradling her cheek, it was clear he had just struck her.
Rage blossomed within Bella, but she forced herself to remain still. Judging by the warning glare from the woman beside her, she figured that was the correct move. Another pointed look from the woman, Bella averted her eyes to the floor once more.
The man spoke harshly in words Bella did not know and was answered by a meek woman's voice in the same tongue. Bella's thoughts started to race, this language barrier was a huge disadvantage, at least last time she was still in America, now everything was an unknown factor. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried desperately to picture Forks clearly in her mind and concentrate as hard as she could, but it was difficult with the man shouting constantly. To be fair, it was not as if that had ever worked before.
Another sound of something hitting flesh, cracked her attempts and she shot out a prayer to every god or higher power she could think of. The man's voice drew nearer and her body started trembling in fear. To her dismay she felt someone stop right in front of her, and when she opened her eyes, she saw crude boots of soft leather directly in her line of sight. She was done for now.
The man shouted something, presumably at her but she did not dare to reply. What could she say anyway? It was not as if he spoke English. A hand grabbed her chin and forcefully pulled up her head. Bella looked into the man's beady eyes. The cruelty in them almost made her shudder, but she stood her ground, staring back at him as calmly as she could. He spat some words at her, but she did not react. His eyes flickered in anger and before she knew it, he slapped her hard across the face. In fact, so hard that she fell into the woman next to her. The woman quickly pushed her back up, probably afraid of the repercussions, and Bella blearily looked back up at the man, who once again shouted something in her face. When she failed to respond yet again, he slapped her again, and again, and again. Bella could feel blood pooling in her mouth and bruises forming but she refused to cry out or show any reaction, which only angered him more. When he put his hand up for the fifth time, the woman beside her cried out, speaking hurriedly and gesturing towards Bella. She was pointing towards Bella's throat and repeating the same words over and over. After a moment Bella deduced, she was trying to convince him that she was mute. She was so grateful for the kind act of a stranger that she was loss for words anyway. The man obviously got bored with the woman's explanation and struck her this time. The woman fell back and mumbled something, to which the man screamed at and brought his hands up, fist this time.
Reacting without thinking, Bella brought her own fist up and took a swing. He took the blow to the stomach, grunting in pain as he stepped backwards. The woman snapped her head towards Bella, wide and fearful, and that was the moment that Bella realised the implications. That was a stupid error and she was about to pay for it now.
The man recovered quickly enough, and his eyes looked at her lividly, then he shouted something at his comrades and before Bella knew it, she was being hauled off out of the cell and down a long dim hallway made completely out of stones. Bella knew she was in a dungeon of some sort as they passed many cell doors on the way, some held prisoners and other didn't. She wondered if they were going to simply kill or torture her.
She got her answer as soon as they opened a door that seemed to be some sort of an office, judging by a wooden desk and countless scrolls stretched across it. A man was sitting by the desk and looked up as Bella was hauled inside by the man she had struck. He wore a cleaner tunic, obviously made with finer materials and his head was clean shaven. It was obvious that he held a higher rank than the other men Bella had encountered.
The guard said something angrily to the man, who looked incredibly annoyed with the interruption. Then, to Bella's wonder, he let out a sharp laugh and eyed her, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He smiled coldly and said something to the guard, who seemed displeased but nodded anyway. The man looked Bella directly in the eye and said something, which made the guard snort. Bella could not understand his words, but she could detect his tone.
Whatever it was, she was in deep trouble.
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-End of flashback-
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Bella laughed humourlessly, remembering the terror she felt when the guards hauled her away. If she had only known.
Her mind briefly flashed to the woman in the cell. To this day she had no idea why that stranger decided to help her, but she was beyond grateful, nonetheless. She wondered what had been going through the woman's mind when a random girl appeared out of thin air, wearing strange clothing and didn't understand a word she said.
"Wherever you are, I hope you're okay," Bella whispered forlornly. "Thank you for helping me," It only strengthen her belief that some people were good to the core, despite the hardships they had to go through in life. Bella wondered if she could still be classified as a good person, although she sincerely doubted it.
Some things could simply break you.
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Flashback
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They threw her into room, unceremoniously dropping her on the floor without any care. The guards left her with cruel laughter. Next thing Bella knew, an angry looking woman practically hauled her up and barked some order at her. She wore a brown woollen dress; some sort of sandals and her black hair was pulled up in a long braid. She looked to be only a few years older than Bella, but her eyes were pained, and her lips were stretched in a thin line.
Bella just blinked in confusion, which made the woman sigh impatiently and point at a wash basin in the corner. Not wanting to irritate the woman further, Bella stumbled towards the water and hurriedly tried her best to clean up. Finally, the woman gave a short nod, as if she thought Bella's efforts were satisfactory enough, and pointed at Bella's outfit. When Bella made to protest, the woman struck her across the face.
T hat was enough to make Bella strip, albeit reluctantly. The woman handed her a brown woollen tunic, which looked incredibly uncomfortable. Deciding not to test the unknown woman's patience any further, Bella simply followed the instructions. Next the woman took off the clumsy attempt of a makeshift bandage on Bella's forearm and replaced it with a clean one, fastening it enough to put pressure on the wound. Bella winced in pain at the rough manhandling. Then the woman handed her a leather and cloth strips, which Bella fumbled with for a few moments, until the woman snatched them away from her and roughly strapped them to her arms and wrists.
When Bella was finally dressed, she was ordered to sit down at the only chair in the room. As soon as she was down, the woman stood behind her and hurriedly braided her hair. Bella refrained from wincing at the pain. The woman clearly did not care if she was pulling too hard on her hair.
The door flung open and the guards returned, eyeing Bella in a leery way which made her shift uncomfortably on the spot. The woman said something to the men, before nodding at Bella. The guards grabbed ahold of Bella and dragged her out the room. Their grip was painfully strong, and they moved at a steadfast pace.
She wasn't sure where they were leading her, since the hallways were poorly lit, but she could make out faint cheering noise in the distance. Finally, they stopped in front of a huge wooden door and finally let go of her. While Bella was deeply confused and unsettled at that point, having no idea what was happening, it wasn't until one guard handed her a rusty short sword that the panic reached its high point.
The cruel guard she had punched before, looked at her and said something in a mocking tone. The only thing Bella caught was the word 'gladiatrix'. Before she could ponder upon that, the huge doors opened and the daylight came pouring in, momentarily blinding her.
The faint cheers she heard before, were practically roaring now and she winced at its volume. Bella blinked heavily to adjust but the guards apparently thought she was taking too long, since they roughly pushed her outside. The door closed behind her with a loud thud.
I t was by pure chance that she managed to keep her balance as she stumbled forwards, especially since she felt like she were about to faint or go into shock. When she straightened up, her eyes roamed the new location. Bella's jaw dropped when she realised she was inside what seemed to be the Colosseum. The arena was packed with people, all shouting and cheering. Dragging her eyes away from the crowd, she looked ahead and noticed for the first time that there were twenty other women inside the ring, all wearing similar outfits and holding weapons.
"What the fuck," Bella breathed out. Was she now the female equivalent of a gladiator?
There was no time to process that thought when suddenly a bell rang, and the women jumped into action. Bella could only watch with wide eyes as one of the women started sprinting towards her, sheer desperation in her eyes and her sword held high.
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-End of flashback-
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Bella visibly shuddered as memories from the arena assaulted her mind. She was not proud of her actions, but pure instincts kicked in before she could even dwell on it. Bella thought about her discussion with Rosalie that afternoon. "Does what we do in order to survive, define us?" It was a legitimate question.
Rosalie caught her at a bad moment, and she had been perhaps a bit too free with her thoughts, but she did not regret it. Bella also had a feeling Rosalie needed to hear her words, maybe more than Bella herself. While she believed every word she had told Rosalie, she still had a hard time grasping the concept.
Did that make her a fraud? Or was she simply too broken to live by her own words?
Maybe it would have been easier at one point, but this never ending roller-coaster she was somehow strapped to, made it difficult so see reason. Every time she somehow managed to come to terms with her past actions and experiences, life threw her a curveball and she was back where she started.
Bella wondered if she had been some kind of a dictator in past life, it would sure explain her fate. She remembered the first time it had happened. The utter astonishment and disbelief, and even excitement for a few minutes. Bella had always been a fan of the supernatural, deeply fascinated by the potential of unearthly gifts. She absently wondered if this was a punishment for her morbid curiosity. Be careful what you ask for and all that jazz.
Time travel. Maybe if she had any control of her outlandish power, things would be easier. However, that was not the case. It always came without prompting and she had no means to stop it from happening, much less return to her own time. She was quick to discover that she only traveled to the most horrific periods in history. She had yet to experience anything pleasant. The only thing Bella could do was to hold on and go with it.
That was much easier said than done. In fact, it was a wonder she was still relatively sane. Key word being relatively.
"I can't keep doing this," Bella exclaimed out loud.
Every time she travelled; she lost a bit of her humanity. What would she do when she had none left? The thought of some soulless monster travelling through time was a terrifying thought. What if she accidentally changed the course of history? What if she kept doing horrible things without any moral compass to guide her? Rosalie pointed out earlier that she still had one, since she was even thinking about it in the first place. What happened when those thoughts ceased?
Bella's musings were interrupted by the loud chime of the doorbell. She blinked in surprise, wondering who on earth would be visiting her. She told Angela she would call her later tonight and it wasn't as if Billy Black would visit her without announcing himself first. Bella shakily pulled herself up and limped towards the front door. Pulling up a neutral expression, she opened the door.
"Oh," she tilted her head with a small frown. "Not to be rude but what are you doing here?"
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To be continued...
So who guessed it? Yes darlings, time travel. Did that clear things up?