Altered Past

The sound of hardware crashing against wooden tiles reeled her back. Muscles stiffen as she felt his breath against her skin; his body inching towards her. Train of thought brought to a complete halt as she took a step back, but failed to gain more distance as she felt her back pressed against the wall. The male in front of her hastily closed the distance, firmly grabbing hold of her arm and planting a kiss on her full lips. She shifted uncomfortably, gently pressing her forearm against his chest and giving him a shove.

"Don't be like that," the man cooed.

"I," she was interrupted with another kiss. Feeling his thin boned body pressed against her heavier frame and his tongue thrusting into her mouth. This felt wrong, she thought before pushing him away.

"I thought we were friends," he whined.

This was designed, her conscience exclaimed, wake up!

She attempted to reason with him, but failed miserably when he pinned her down on the desk knocking several CDs and controllers off. His tongue lapped against the length of her neck as she turned her head, positioning herself so that her knee pressed against his chest. Without hesitation, she pushed him off with full force.

Don't you see it's another way to die? Toying with your past as if he owns you…snap the hell out of it!

"Stop it!" The female bellowed. "Just stop, I said no!"

"You're such a bitch," the man sputtered, grabbing a fist full of curly hair as he violently yanked her head back. "Stop fucking with my head," he added. "This isn't your game anymore!"

"Ouch," she howled, "Aki, you're hurting me!"

Don't shun me; I am you, the voice whispered.

He gripped her chin, red imprints created from the force applied. A blanket of silence descended on them as he inspected her. Small teardrops descended her cheek as she muttered an apology. His grip slackened as he released her hair, exhaling deeply as he ruffled his shaggy dark brown hair.

"Then, make it up to me."

Wake up, her conscience boomed.

Present Day

Blinding light forced her to close her eyes once more as she shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed. Well-toned body ached from slight movements. A raven brace covered her forearm and the back of her cranium was stitched up. The Carnival Corpse was over and she was the victor. Hazel optics surveyed the room as she caught glimpse of various flowers and miscellaneous prizes positioned several feet to the right. Tardily, she turned to her left. Eyes widening as she saw the promoter standing at the entrance.

"I knew you would succeed," he said with a smile plastered on his visage. "You never cease to impress me."

"Why are you here?!" She snapped. Jurai pressed the palm of her hand against her neck as a stabbing pain formed.

"I wanted to check on you, Jurai. That's what friends are for." He said, while advancing to her.

"Bullshit! When were you ever a friend?! You put me here!"

"I would never do such a horrid thing," he said calmly. "I swear on my mother's grave."

"You didn't give a shit about her, nor did you about me!"

"What do you mean, Juju? How could I—," he hastily jumped away, bewildered by the unexpected attempt on his life.

The female tore out the IV line, blood trickling down her forearm then forming into a worn dagger. She shuddered immensely, eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and unquestionable fear. This is the wrong response, he thought.

Guards quickly restrained the female as she struggled to break free of their grasps. Blood created dagger dissolving. He cleared his throat, grateful that her injuries left her less nimble and hampered the timing of her strike tremendously. Tamaki adjusted his tie and smoothed out the wrinkles of his shirt, plastering a sly grin on his visage as Jurai was strapped down.

A woman with golden locks, placed in a loose ponytail, entered the room; releasing a sigh as she crossed over to the bed, her heels clicking against tiled floors. She withdrew a syringe from her pocket, removing the protective cap, tapping the side a couple of times then pressed the plunger gently, allowing a small fraction of the liquid to spurt, before injecting a large dosage into the female's leg. She was forced to jump back as Jurai squirmed and freed her left leg from her restraints. The guards kept her pinned down as she swore, voice filled with malice and a slight hint of confusion. After some time of resistance, she was mollified. Her breathing slowed, eyelids becoming heavy as she turned her head to the side.

"Whoa ho-ho," Tamaki said. "That kick could have taken your head off, Ortega."

"Glad you have my well-being in thought; though it seems you're gambling with it…but, that is beside the point. What brought on this outburst?"

"Outburst?"

"Jurai Faure did not seem pleased by your presence, to say the least."

"I haven't the faintest clue," he said while shrugging. His gaze shifted over to the pacified female, who gradually lost consciousness.

"Mind if I have a chat with her when she wakes, sir?"

Briefly, he paused before responding with, "Three guards will remain present."

"Typically, she's rather docile," Ortega began as she thumbed through Jurai's file. "After questioning her companion, Inmate 5872," her gaze shifted over to the promoter who hastily shook his head in protest.

"Inmate 5872?"

"Alessandra Faure, sir. She expressed to me that her sister has always been quite…odd, though far from violent."

"She was never one to lash out without being provoked," he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing…if you wish to take more notes and get her on the right track be my guest. Even though the fans will be greatly disappointed by her absence, getting her back to one hundred percent seems the best route. Also, find a way to eliminate her aggressive behavior."

"…Yes, sir."

It's another way to die, a strained voice said as everything went to black.

Two Years after the Red Hole Incident

The police department seemed more busy than usual. Several car thefts, four muggings, three rapes, twelve murders, and the list went on. Hazel optics surveyed the lobby intently, watching as two police officers hauled in another gang member within the area; kicking over a chair and swearing as he was practically dragged off to a cell. She winced after arching a brow, applying the icepack on the left side of her bruised visage. Beside her sat Serge Faure, her adoptive father.

"Are you okay, sweetie," he cooed, ruffling her shaggy hair.

She nodded in response, chuckling as she continued icing her face.

"You're one tough cookie, Jurai. Any other girl would have been petrified."

"Yet, here I am. Smiling…I think you've rubbed off on me."

"Heh, looking on the up-and-up I see?" He said, lifting her bang to inspect the large lump on her forehead. He smiled weakly; his daughter suffered a concussion and would dread the idea of relinquishing slumber time.

"It's fine, dah," she blurted. "I'm not a little girl anymore, I can handle it."

A sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head, ready to protest, but was interrupted when an older officer called them.

"Finally," he said with a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to come off rude."

"No worries, I understand where you're comin' from. I'd be equally impatient if it were my little girl." The officer said before leading them to his desk, insisting the duo take a seat and offering them beverages.

"No thank you, I just want to find the guys who," Serge paused as he firmly squeezed his daughter's shoulder, "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I should have paid more attention, considering the crime rates."

"It's not your fault, who could have known?"

"Um, miss," the officer paused, uncertain of her name.

"Just call me Jurai," she said plainly.

"Uh…okay. Jurai, could you describe these men to me?"

Jurai explained how one of the men was approximately her height, but had a heavier build and a lighter complexion. He had a diagonal scar on his visage, from the upper left to the lower right. Then, she proceeded to describe his clothing; how he wore faded jeans, a heavy navy sweater, and construction boots. His comrade, or partner in crime, was four inches taller than her and slender with the same complexion as her. His skin was flawless and he wore the same attire as the first man.

"Uh-huh, okay. Any other details you would like to add?"

"They smashed a perfectly good computer," she mumbled while frowning as she unzipped her bag, revealing a sleek black and crimson laptop. The screen was cracked and partially detached, only the wiring clung for dear life.

"I could see why that would be bothersome. I'm sorry to hear that." He paused briefly, clearing his throat before adding, "Do you have any idea why these men would target you?"

Jurai gaze lifted from the destroyed laptop as she shook her head. Afterwards, she excused herself, stating how she was famished. She stood from her seat, crossing over to the opposite side where a large vending machine stood. Making several selections of sweets and hastily stuffing half of her selections in her bag before leaving the heavily populated area. As she began heading back, she caught glimpse of a much younger police officer grabbing his head in frustration and swearing under his breath. Without invitation, she entered his cubicle, releasing a sigh of relief as she carelessly plopped in a chair a few inches next to him.

"What the," he paused, startled by the sudden intrusion. "I…I have work to do. I'm pretty sure the other officers can assist you."

Jurai tossed two bags of potato chips on his desk, along with a small packet of candy. "You seemed rather stressed, just wanted to take a load off."

"Uh, thanks? I guess."

"No problem, dude."

He continued filing reports, occasionally glancing back at the shaggy haired individual then continued thumbing through pages as he released a groan of displeasure.

"This is so boring!"

"Stuck with the grunt work while they get all the action?"

"Yeah, man. I'm tired of this. I want to be out there…you know, helping."

"How much more do you have?"

"Don't get me started," his head tilted back as he leaned further in his chair. Left arm extended as he grabbed a bag of chips supplied by his new buddy. "These are pretty good."

"Yep," she replied.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Everyone needs a moment for themselves."

"Ah, there you are," the older officer exclaimed as his attention shifted to the police officer then Jurai. "Oh, seems like you made a friend, Senji. Though, her dad was worried. We figured you wandered off someplace."

"Was working on the reports you gave me…wait…her?"

Jurai gave a half-hearted smile as she tilted her head to the side, inserting a chip in her mouth. Instantaneously, Senji's visage became ten shades of red, jumping to his feet and bowing his head apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…I mean…"

"Officer Kiyomasa?"

"H-how did you know my-"

"It's on your badge," she whispered. "Uh, thanks for entertaining me, I apologize for distracting you from your work, sir." She shook his hand, bemused by how clammy it was.

Present Day

"You're interrogating me," Jurai snapped.

"…No, I'm just trying to get a better understanding of what happened." The doctor crossed her legs, resting the notepad on her thigh. As if she concealed telepathic abilities she said, "You're really not here for this are you?"

"What gave it away?"

Silence settled in, creating an awkward atmosphere. The doctor glanced over her shoulder, briefly making eye contact with the two guards standing a couple of feet away from her chair, and then gestured for them to exit the room.

"The director gave us specific orders not to leave your side, ma'am."

"Well, I managed to convince you to bring only two of your personnel, didn't I? We could bend the rules a bit more, can we?"

More silence as the guard and his companion desperately searched for the correct response then was hastily shooed out of the room.

"Five minutes," the doctor stated, "I promise no more than that."

"Do you treat all of your patients with such tenderness, Mrs. Ortega," Jurai inquired. Ortega crossed over to her seat and dragged it closer to the female inmate, catching her off guard. "The hell—have you ever heard of personal space?"

"Snippy, are we," Ortega began, "How does one girl manage to create one hell of a shit storm in such a small period of time? I've seen your file, some things don't add up."

"Now we're getting somewhere. Finally, instead of beating around the bush and asking me about my day you're getting to the grisly details of what happened? Well, sorry to disappoint you, princess, but from what I'm told a huge chunk of my life is a mystery to me."

"Tamaki wants to throw you in another section of G-ward; you have a lot of enemies there."

"If those in power are my enemies, then I'm simply not safe anywhere."

"Touché, though you could spare yourself…be able to interact with the friends you've made in this place."

"Friends?"

"…Yes, apparently you have comrades in here. Jesus, if it weren't for the blow to the head I would have thought you naturally had a few screws loose. You remember Alessandra, correct?" Ortega observed the puzzled expression plastered on Jurai's visage. Gently pressing the tips of her fingers against her temples and massaging. "This isn't working," she sighed.

"No, I know who she is."

"Thank god. I couldn't handle another day of trying to jog your memory," she exclaimed, arms thrown up in the air in a celebratory fashion. Her arms descended once realizing Jurai's bemused expression. "Tell me the last few details of the Carnival Corpse."

"I won and was taken to the infirmary."

"Do you remember who was there?"

"Those participating, of course."

"Besides your opponent, can you recall any other person who might have been there?"

"Not really…what's the importance of this?"

"The promoter was not pleased with an earlier incident, which occurred before your Carnival Corpse. From security feeds, he got the impression that you might have been plotting some sort of rebellion. Though, it seems completely out of character, especially for you…then again, after the Corpse you haven't been yourself."

"Must have been the blow to the good ol' noggin, huh?"

Ortega stood from her seat, shaking her head in disproval. "Smarten up before your witty tongue gets you killed."

"The Carnival Corpse will get me killed."

"You're safe for a couple of weeks, at least until you're in top shape. Once you recover that memory of yours you'll be thrown back into the fray."

"What do you want me to say? I don't remember anything prior to the Corpse, lady!"

"Lie, Jurai. Don't be a fool and allow yourself to be thrown in that section of G-ward."

Two Hours Later

"This will be your new living quarters," one of the guards said before shoving the female across the threshold.

This section of G-ward was much darker than where she previously was contained. There was an ominous chill in the air as the guard chuckled. Jurai turned to face the path before her, catching glimpse of several inmates with wolfish grins. Among them was a towering man. His body masterfully sculpted from devoting his time in the gym. Gently, she pressed the palm of her hand against her chest and felt her heart come to a complete halt. Memories began seeping out of her unconscious.

"It's been awhile," he said.

"Could have gone longer," she replied under her breath. "I didn't know you were still here, Ivan."

"Expected me to crawl under a rock and die? I don't think so. The last Corpse you won through sheer luck, bitch! Here, the rules don't apply. Luckily for me, the promoter must have gotten over his raging hard-on for you and threw you to the dogs."

Something resonated from the depths of her being as she trembled at the sight of this man.

What aren't I remembering; she pondered but was incapable of pinpointing him to one specific memory.

"Ain't this one happy reunion, fellas? The traitor has returned."