I'M BACK! I'm SO sorry for such a long delay. My first year of college was really busy and I've been home for summer since the beginning of May, but my muse hasn't been cooperating. I go back in early September and I promise I'll try really hard to update as much as possible before then. I have planned out how I want the rest of this story to go so now it's just a matter of sitting down and getting my muse to work with me. In case anyone is wondering, this story will end up being around 22 chapters long, my longest fan fic! I know this chapter probably isn't that great, but I really wanted to update for all of you that have been waiting so patiently. I really appreciate it!
Before this chapter, I just want to mention that Eric will be OOC in this story. Someone brought this up in the reviews, which reminded me that I probably should have said something about it before, but since I didn't, thank you to that reviewer for reminding me to do it now.
Also, I don't know if anyone else noticed this, but as I was re-reading the previous chapters, I realized that in the Capture the Flag chapter, I'm pretty sure I forgot to put Matt on a team. Sorry about that!
Also, the end of this chapter will feature the ending in Eric's POV as well as his thoughts on some things that have previously happened, since some of you said you would be interested. Hopefully, more of that will come later!
Warning: Mild violence due to the knife throwing and minor language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. All rights belong to Veronica Roth.
The next morning, when I get into the training room, still extremely tired from the little sleep I got, I see that there are many targets on the wall. They look like the targets we used when we practiced shooting guns. Maybe they're the same ones. Off to the side of the room, there is a large table with dozens of knives on it.
Eric is standing in the middle of the room and looks very tense. His rigid stance makes me feel extremely uncomfortable.
"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one. We will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone grab three knives. Pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them."
At first, I'm the only one to make my way to the table. I've learned by now that, even though I try to question him, I should follow his orders when other people are around. However, no one else moves.
"Now!" he yells.
Everyone else scrambles for the knives and we take our positions at our targets. These knives are much different than the knives I'm used to. The knives in Amity were much smaller than these and were only used to cut tough vines. At the end of the day, they were always locked up securely so no one could use them to bring harm onto someone else.
"He's in a bad mood today," Christina mumbles.
"Is he ever in a good mood?" Tris murmurs.
I can see what Christina means. The loss in the game last night must have bothered Eric more than he let on. I'd like to think that he's also bothered because we could have won if he would have listened to me. But, even though he apologized and said I was right, I don't believe it completely. Winning Capture the Flag is all about pride and Eric's was damaged when he lost.
As Four demonstrates, I carefully watch his stance and his arm as he throws. He hits the target every time and exhales as he releases each knife.
For the first few minutes after Four's demonstration, I don't throw the knife. I just practice the throwing motion with my arm and standing the right way to get used to the feeling. I look over to my right and realize that Tris was thinking the same thing. Eric is quickly pacing behind us but, I tune him out and concentrate on what I'm doing.
"I think the Stiff and the Amity have taken too many hits to the head! Hey girls! Remember what a knife is?" We ignore him and tune him and Eric out. We then throw our knives at the same time. Hers hits the board but doesn't stick. Mine sticks and lands about two or three inches above the center. We are the first two to hit the target. I look over at Peter and smirk as he throws his knife and misses again.
"Hey Peter. Remember what a target is?" Tris jeers at him and Christina and I laugh. Christina's next knife hits the target.
After about a half an hour, Al is the only one that hasn't hit the target. All of his knives either bounce off the target or just immediately go towards the floor. Al's next knife clatters right to the floor, and Eric stalks up behind him.
"Well that was pathetic." I glance over at them and see that Eric has that gleam in his eyes that he gets when he is up to something.
"It slipped." Al's poor attempt at an excuse makes me even more nervous. There's no way Eric would even begin to accept that. I turn back to my target and throw another knife, trying to distract myself.
"Well go get it!" Tris and I glance at each other with a knowing look: This is not good.
"While they're throwing?"
"Are you afraid?"
"Of getting hit with an airborne knife? Yeah, I actually am."
"Everybody stop!" Al's fear, inability at knife throwing, and defiance of Eric's orders were one thing, but the slight attitude he pulled in that last comment made me know instantly that something bad was about to happen.
"Go stand in front of the target." My eyes widen as I watch Al move to the other side of the room. He cannot be serious. But then again, this is Eric.
"You're going to stand there while Four throws these knives. And if I see you flinch, you're out."
I watch in horror as Four picks up a few knives and tosses them in his hand. By the look in his eyes, I can tell that he knows this is wrong, but he's also smart enough not to go up against Eric, especially in front of a group of initiates. Just before he throws the first knife, I hear Tris say "Stop" and we all look over to her.
"Anyone can stand in front of a target, it doesn't prove anything."
"Well, then it would be easy for you to take his place."
Without a word and nothing more than an intense glance, Tris walks over to the wall and stands in front of the target, while Al, looking incredibly grateful, gets in line with the rest of us. Simultaneously, Eric paces forward a bit while playing with a knife in his hands. "Same rules apply. You flinch, you're out." Tris gives a subtle nod and then looks at Four.
Four pauses for a moment before throwing his first knife, which lands about half a foot away from her hip. The next lands the same distance away from the side of her head. Eric taunts Four to throw them closer; the third hits only a couple of inches above her head and the last strikes the side of her ear, creating a small cut.
"Points for bravery Stiff. But not as many as you just lost for opening your mouth. Now you watch yourself. We're training soldiers, not rebels." Tris gives a small nod of understanding before Eric turns to the rest of us. "We're done for the day, get out."
As we all head for the doors, Christina grabs my arm. "What a jerk. I can't believe he did that."
"Would you really expect anything less from him though?"
"No, I guess not. Do you want to head back to the dorm and rest for a bit?"
"No, I think I'll take a walk. I'll see you at dinner."
After I walk around the compound for a bit, trying to clear my head, I see Matt walking towards me and I immediately shrink closer to the wall and look down. When he says hi to me, I just ignore him and keep walking.
"Hey!" he yells before shoving me up against the wall.
"What the hell Matt!"
"I was talking to you!"
"Yeah, and I was ignoring you!"
"What is your problem?"
"You're my problem!"
"Why? Why don't you like me?"
"Because you're an overbearing, off-putting, egotistical jackass! Now leave me alone!" I return the favor, and give him a hard shove against the wall before I storm away, even angrier than I was before. I can't believe him! Why can't he take a hint and just leave me alone? Well, this proves one thing for sure: He's definitely not Erudite.
As I head towards the cafeteria, still too irritated to pay any attention to where I'm going, I run into someone. Once again, I am pushed back into a wall and all I can see are Eric and red.
"Watch where you're going initiate", he snarls in a way only he can. And before I can even register what I am doing, I snap right back.
"Why don't you make me Eric?"
"You want to say that again initiate?"
"Just leave me alone. Don't you think you've done enough damage for one day?" I turn away from him and continue for the cafeteria, but I never make it because he grabs me by the bicep and drags me to the training room. I kick and scream the whole way, but it's no use. Despite my progress in training, he is still much stronger than me.
Once we get there, we walk, or rather, he walks and I stumble behind him, to the wall where we were throwing knives earlier. My face instantly goes white when I realize what he plans to do. On our way past the table, he grabs three knives without even looking and then continues to the back of the room and, for the third time in one day, I am thrown against a wall.
"I thought I made it clear that we have no use for rebels here. Since you insist on talking back, I guess I'll have to do a better job of teaching you a lesson. We'll play the same game as earlier. If you flinch, you're out." Not wasting any time, he throws his first knife, which lands a few inches away from the right side of my head. My heartrate jumps into overdrive but I remain still. Do not flinch. It has become my mantra. I repeat it over and over again in my head as the next knife is released. I hear it strike right above my head. I stare into Eric's cold eyes as he throws the last knife, which lands next to my right thigh. At first, I feel nothing. But moments later, I feel a sting, and I realize that he cut me. I look back at him and he is returning my look of disgust, but there's something else there that he is too quick to conceal. Something that almost looks like regret. Whatever it was, it is gone faster than it appeared, and he returns to his cold demeanor.
"Next time, watch your mouth Amity. Now get out."
As I storm past him, I am helpless to stop the tear that falls.
When I finally enter the cafeteria without any more interruptions, I have managed to pull myself together. I must not have done a good enough job though because, as soon as I sit down next to Tris, Christina can automatically tell that something is wrong.
"Are you okay? Where have you been?" I proceed to tell them everything that happened, with Matt and with Eric. By the end, they both give me sympathetic looks.
"It's not surprising that Eric would do that, so why does it make you sad?" I look at Christina like she's crazy, even though she has a point. So, I do the first thing I think of: I lie.
"It doesn't make me sad."
"Yes it does. I can tell. Ex-Candor, remember?" Knowing that she won't drop it until I fess up, I cave.
"It's just a stupid old habit. In Amity, we're taught that everyone has some good inside them, and that you should always try to see that goodness. After he apologized for not trusting me in the game last night, I thought I saw the good in him, but I guess I was wrong. Old habits die hard, but I'll get over it." I turn my attention away from her and to my food in an obvious attempt to end the conversation, and it works. As I eat, I glance up and see Eric staring at me from across the room. Our eyes meet and, after a moment, I force myself to look away. With that one look, I become increasingly worried, for I realize that Eric's cruelty bothers me in a way and to an intensity that it definitely shouldn't.
Eric's POV
Today has been hell. First, the Candor kid couldn't throw a knife to save his life. Then, the Stiff had to open her mouth. And then, to top it all off, Monica had to be stupid and cross me. Again. I don't want to be so hard on her, but she has to learn to be more obedient, or else she won't last here.
As I approach my table in the cafeteria, Four gives me that look that tells me I'm in for an ear-full. Great.
"So what'd you do to Amity?"
"I threw knifes at her and cut her." Might as well keep it short sweet and to the point. Maybe he'll get the hint and drop it.
"Well, you're not going to win her over like that."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb. It's pretty obvious that you like her."
"You're crazy." This is what I say even though we both know it's a lie. I could tell she was beautiful when I first saw her on the roof. I even told her as much, even though I shouldn't have. But, as the days went on, it became painfully clear that she is much more than a pretty face. Being from Amity, I assumed she would end up being one of the first initiates cut, but she proved me wrong very quickly. She's a skilled fighter, not the best I've ever seen, but definitely skilled, a great knife thrower, and the best shooter we have. I was stunned when she did so well with gun training. If she continues to do this well, she'll blow all my expectations completely out of the water.
"Oh really? Then why do I always catch you staring at her?"
"Because I want to keep an eye on her. She's shaping up to be one of the best initiates in her class. I won't be surprised if Max will want to recruit her for leadership."
"And you're sure that's the only reason." Nosy bastard.
"Fine. I like her, alright? Are you happy now?"
"Very. So, why do treat her the way you do if you like her so much?"
"Now who's playing dumb? You know why: I can't show her too much favoritism. Not to mention that member/initiate relationships are against the rules. I'll just act my normal self during training and then try to win her over after. Now would you drop it?"
"Alright, if you insist." And he does, even though he looks at me as if I'm losing my mind, which I probably am. When she left the training room after I cut her, I saw some tears forming in her eyes, even though she tried hard to hide them. I hate myself for hurting her, but I have to train her impartially if she's going to have a fair shot. And I can't let her get too close too fast, especially not after what happened last time. This is for the best. But, when I catch her eyes from across the room and see the cold, hurt look in them, I begin to wonder if I am making a big mistake.