EDIT
Have you ever hit your head hard enough to see stars? I did once. Hit my head on the edge of a metal doorframe when I slipped down a flight of stairs. Stars everywhere for the next five seconds. (winces) Ouch…
The Files of Kazdan Kalinkas
Book One: Not By Choice
Chapter Seven: Fire
UnderWorld Rule # 7: Never turn your back and flee, even if it means facing certain death.
There is an unspoken hierarchy in the UnderWorld.
The top is Chaor and just below him are the Creatures directly within his inner circle; Takinom and Agitos and the like. It works its way down from there. And near the bottom, just above the traitors like Van Bloot, are the trainees.
That's why when a Firestorm broke out, we were the last priority.
Firestorms were exactly what they sounded like; geysers of flames that shot from the ground miles away, arching so high into the air that they traveled great distances before coming down in a tempest of molten rain.
"Firestorm!" I screamed as another glob of liquid fire came hurtling through the roof, "Firestorm! Get up! Firestorm!" Indoors was not the safest place to be. The liquid base that made up the raining fireballs could spread quickly and consume a building in minutes.
The trainees were up in a matter of seconds, flying for the doors. One unlucky Creature got tangled in his sheet and was struck by another ball of fire. His screams of dying agony followed us outside onto the marching grounds.
It was dark and cloudy with smoke, I choked on the fumes and ash. There was panic all around; Creatures were running back and forth, Battalion soldiers were shouting orders to trainees and higher ranking officers were shouting orders to Battalion soldiers, water was being thrown on the spreading flames by the bucketful, and there was the sound spitting fire and hissing smoke as more fireballs rained down on the training barracks from above.
A liquid hail of orange heat and light exploded into the earth next to me and I tumbled over backwards, heat scorching my face. I lay sprawled on the dirt, breathing heavily. I was in danger. I momentarily forgot that I couldn't die and curled into a ball, hands wrapped around my head, whimpering in fear.
"On your feet, maggots!" Great, Faltin had shown up, "Move! Put those fires out! Off your lazy rears and move! Defend the barracks!" Footsteps and then someone grabbed me under the arm, hoisting me up. I found myself face to face with the Creature, "What're you doing cowering on the ground! Get up there and help put that fire out!" And he pushed me so that I stumbled towards the nearest burning building.
Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed a bucket and ran to the well at the back of the training barracks. Other Creatures ran past me, carrying sloshing buckets filled with water, their faces lit by the flickering flames and shadowed by the billowing smoke, smudged by ash and dirt.
I hooked the bucket on the rope and let it swing down. As soon as it tugged on the rope, I hauled it back up and bolted back for the training barracks. Water splashed down my legs, cold and shocking against the heat boiling from the flames.
The rest of the night was a blur.
I remember running from the well to the buildings many, many times...
I remember being knocked down at least two more times by flames from the sky...
I remember choking, gasping for air in the thick smoke that suddenly frothed from a window that exploded outwards, showering us with glass...
I remember the ground tilting underneath my feet...
I remember the icy water in the bucket splashing over me as I tumbled backwards...
...backwards into blessed darkness...
I woke up in the early hours of the morning.
Everything seemed to be a different shade of gray or black. Ash was smeared across everything. Trainees and Battalion alike sat around, exhausted, covered in filth. Silence reigned, splintered occasionally by a cough or a sniffle. Buckets lay scattered and abandoned across the ground.
I sat up slowly, achingly, and shook my head. A shower of gray-white drifted down onto my lap. My throat felt dry and cracked and I was coated in ash. I cast around and saw the bucket I'd been hauling lying near my foot. Hoping there was still some water in it, I grabbed it and looked in.
Lucky me; I tipped it back and drank what was in it before dumping the rest over my head. It washed most of the ash away. I tried to dust the rest off of myself and for the most part I succeeded. But what I really needed was a proper bath.
Like that was going to happen.
The destruction from the Firestorm wasn't as bad as it had seemed during the panic of the night. Only one building had actually succumbed to the flames and collapsed to the ground; one of the trainee living quarters, not mine thankfully. Small craters where raining fire had slammed into the earth littered the ground. It looked like battle field. I figured I should try standing up. My legs shook but I managed to get up in the end. Resting one hand on the side of a building, I cast another glance around the marching ground. Some of the other trainees and Battalion soldiers were watching me with empty gazes.
Maybe...this was my chance. Maybe...this was my moment to escape. Taking a deep breath, I stumbled forward, heading towards the front gate. This was my chance...I could feel it. If only I could get my legs to move a little bit faster!
"Soldiers! Maggots! On your feet! Move! You've got two minutes to eat and then we're fixing this mess! Training's halted for today!" Faltin stomped into view, feathers ruffled, ash swirling into the air with his movements.
I swallowed a groan and pushed myself off the building, wobbling a bit as I got my bearings. There went my chance to escape.
Cleaning up the training barracks after the firestorm was a form of torture in of itself. We had to sweep all the ash into piles and pour water over them to stop them being blown away, craters had to be filled in with fresh dirt and rock, and buildings had to be mended.
Oh, don't get me wrong, we weren't the ones fixing the roofs. That was the job of the Taskmaster that had been called in. But we did have to haul all the scaffolding and equipment to the spot. And let me tell you, that's heavy steel beams and metal clasps. The other trainees had thick leather gloves to cover their hands and spare them the pain of the rust digging into their flesh.
I was not granted such a privilege.
My fingers were soon bruised, sore, and even bleeding in some places. Not only that but while the other Creatures helped one another lift loads and move objects, they didn't help me. I was left to drag the scaffolding gear through the dirt and mud by myself, panting and exhausted.
But I said nothing.
Soon, I felt more eyes on me than those of the Taskmaster and the officers in charge. Using the excuse to pause and wipe sweat from my forehead, I cast my gaze at the group under a shady overhang across the marching grounds. My stomach dropped.
There stood Chaor with Ulmar and Rothar at his side.
I stared at them and they stared back. Chaor grinned and I shuddered. What the heck were they doing here?
"Hey! Human! Move it!" Faltin aimed a kick at me and I skipped out of the way, "What're you staring at anyway!?" He looked around and saw Chaor. The look on his face was priceless. He didn't want to end up like Soulna.
I turned away from them and headed towards the dwindling pile of scaffolding equipment but Rothar stepped out of the overhang and barred my path. I stopped but gave no other reaction. He snorted at me. I tilted my head to the side, bangs falling into my eyes as I did so.
A heavy hand descended upon my shoulder. I didn't have to turn around to know it was Chaor.
"What now?" My voice cracked. I was tired of them all pushing me around and ruining my life. I really just wanted to be left alone.
"You know how to fight." Chaor growled, leaning down so the jagged teeth in his mouth were inches from my ear. His breath was as hot as the flames from the night before and reeked of burnt flesh and dead timber, "But now we're going to teach you to be an assassin."
"I don't—." I began but Chaor shook me so hard, my feet slipped out from under me and I gasped as my injured fingers hit the dirt.
"I don't care what you want, Kazzy! You're opinions don't matter anymore! Now get up and follow me!"
I didn't have a choice.
I could feel the stares of the trainees following me out of the marching grounds and around the corner; we were heading for the large building were Faltin had shot paint at us. It seemed years ago now.
Everything seemed years ago.
I couldn't remember things the way I had when I had first been thrown into this mess.
I couldn't remember what a real bed felt like.
I couldn't remember what a milkshake and nachos tasted like.
I couldn't remember the faces of some of my classmates.
I couldn't remember what it felt like to be in a home; safe, warm, and loved.
I couldn't remember what it was like to have parents hugging you and telling you they loved you and were proud of you.
I couldn't remember what it was like to cry for joy instead of pain or hate.
I'd put such a stopper in my heart that I couldn't even be happy anymore.
"You're such a maggot. Whining about not being able to sleep in a normal bed. Tch, you're so pathetic. What's your life matter any way?"
"Keep moving!" Rothar shoved me and I picked up my feet again. I hadn't even realized I'd stopped walking. I kicked up dirt with my boots, staring at the ground; a dog with a shock collar on its neck.
The door opened with a bang and then slammed shut with an equally loud noise. The lights were off and with no windows the building was plunged into complete darkness. I didn't move, ridged with nerves and fear. Something shifted behind me and I spun, eyes wide, trying to see.
WHAM!
I went sailing through the air and slammed into the floor. Dizzy, bruised, and disoriented, I scrambled upright, head spinning. My back ached where someone or something had hit me. I didn't know where I was in relation to anything anymore; I put a hand out in front of me but found only empty air. Fear spiked my adrenaline and my heart thudded in my chest.
The sound of crackling flames took my attention and, for a brief second, I caught a glimpse of Rothar's sneering face before he flung the fireball and knocked me off my feet again. I skidded across the floor, steel edges of my armor raising sparks as I went, and met a wall in a rather rude way.
"Stop trying to see us!" Chaor's voice came form the blackness before me, "If you can't hear us, you can't stop us! But if we can't hear you…" He let the sentence hang.
This wasn't an exercise in fighting, it was an exercise in stealth.
But how stealthy could I be wearing armor?
Fine, I just wouldn't move.
I remained perfectly motionless against the wall, listening. The silence was so profound that my ears started ringing. Something brushed so lightly against my ankle that I almost didn't feel it. I tilted my head down slowly but couldn't see anything. Another shift. Too small to be Chaor or Rothar.
Ulmar…
I almost laughed. Here was a chance for revenge, right in front of me!
I didn't even think.
I just moved.
I landed on top of Ulmar and pinned him to the floor. His fingers scraped across my armor but I hardly felt it. My hands scrabbled all over the place until I found what I wanted.
His neck.
Without even thinking about it, without a second of hesitation, I tightened my fingers around his throat. I grinned when I heard the satisfying chocking sound when I cut off his air. He flailed beneath me, kicking and clawing, but I kept hanging on.
This was for ruining my life.
This was for trapping me in the UnderWorld.
This was for turning me into a weapon.
This was for all the crap I had to put up with.
An ecstasy bubbled up inside of me, making me feel as though I could do anything in the world. I opened my mouth and laughed.
It was the worst sound I ever made.
It was insane, crazed, full of bloodlust and hatred and the joy of revenge.
Ulmar was struggling less and less. He tugged at my wrists but I only clamped down harder.
"Time to pay up, Ulmar!" I snarled, shaking him. I felt his head knock against the floor and hoped his brain had popped out in the process.
"Congratulations, Kaz. You're just like them."
I froze.
Oh hell.
That stupid voice was right.
I let go and fell backwards, breathing heavily. I kept moving backwards until I ran into the wall. Shuddering, I curled my arms over my head, drew my legs up to my chest, buried my face in my knees, and screamed.
A brilliant flash of light lit the edge of my vision and before I could move, Rothar's Flash Kick had sent me spinning. I clambered upright and ran.
I do not recommend running in the dark.
I slammed right into a wall, head first, and bounced back, one hand over my bloody nose. Clawed fingers wrapped around my neck and Chaor lifted me into the air. Panicked, I did the first thing that came to my fear-clouded mind.
I bit him.
I don't think it hurt Chaor so much as surprised him because his grip loosened and I was able to yank myself away. But I didn't run. I jumped up at him (or where I thought he was, it being that I couldn't see him) and felt one of my hands latch onto one of the horns coming out the side of his head. I yanked on it and hauled myself onto his chest.
He punched me in the side and I gasped, losing my grip and slipping to the floor with a crash of armor. I heard his weight shift and rolled out of the way before he could step on me. Something swept across the floor, inches from my head.
His tail.
I grabbed it as it went by again and held on, leaning all my weight back against his. It threw the UnderWorld Lord off balance and he stumbled. Backwards. I yelled and ran. My footsteps thudded across the floor and I skidded to a halt, panting, listening. I swallowed and clamped my mouth shut, trying to breathe evenly through my blood-clogged nose.
"Here, Kazzy, Kazzy, Kazzy…" Rothar snickered from the darkness, "Here boy!"
"I'm not a dog!" I shouted and launched myself in the general direction his voice had come from. We tussled. I ended up on the floor with him leering over me. I pulled back a fist and punched him square in the nose. He reeled backwards, howling. I'd forgotten about my own injuries and the exhaustion from hauling the scaffolding. I was just fighting back on raw adrenaline.
With a howl, I leapt on Rothar again, fists flailing, not caring what I hit. Rothar hit back of course but I was going crazy; my swings were wild and uncoordinated, I was shouting at the top of my lungs, and ignoring the pain of whatever blows he managed to land.
I probably would have kept pummeling him if someone hadn't set off the electric current through the IRA and made me scream on the floor. I swear it hurt more than it ever had before. I arched my back and crashed back down as the pain fired through me, a constant stream of agony.
Then it stopped and I was left gasping on the hard floor beneath me. Lights flickered and buzzed to life and I turned my gaze upward. Chaor was standing over me with a dark expression of interest. He was happy I had beaten the crap out of Rothar.
Anger shot fire through my limbs and I screamed in rage, jumping to my feet and throwing my fist at the Lord of the UnderWorld. Rothar grabbed a fistful of my hair and threw me back against the floor but I leapt right back up again and dove at Chaor. Rothar hit me again, this time with another Flash Kick. I hit the floor again…and stayed down.
I was completely blinded by my anger and hatred for Chaor and his subordinates. I wasn't even thinking straight. Movement. I flicked my gaze to the side and saw Ulmar sneaking closer. The silver rectangle glinted in his hand. With a snarl of abhorrence, I pounced on him and tore the thing from his hand before he knew what was going on, flinging it away. I didn't see where it landed. I grabbed the front of Ulmar's white jacket and hoisted him in the air, drawing back a fist to punch him again.
Then I caught sight of the satisfied expression on Chaor's face.
He had planned this…
I stared at Ulmar who was hanging there, right there, ready to be beaten to a pulp.
And I lowered my fist and opened my fingers, letting him fall to the floor.
Chaor's expression fell with him.
Well too bad. I wasn't going to end up like him.
I wasn't a killer.
"Disappointing, Kaz." Chaor growled and looked down at Ulmar who had snatched up the silver rectangle, "Lights off. We're doing this again."
We were plunged into darkness but my head was clear now. Reminding myself how I wasn't like the UnderWorlders had been as good as a blast of cold water. I could think clearly without fighting through a haze of red anger. I took a deep breath, held it for a second and let it out silently.
Then I listened.
Of the three of them, Ulmar was the easiest to pick out. Of course, he wasn't much of a fighter (he was better than me though), not as seasoned as Chaor or Rothar, and was making more noise than the other two. At first, I didn't know what to do. So I'd found a target, now what?
"Stop thinking about it." Suggested the voice.
As much as I hated it, it had a point. Of course, that was easier said than done. Before, I'd been angry and frustrated and that had blocked all my logical thinking but now that my head was clear my brain was working overdrive. I wasn't a genius for nothing (okay, maybe genius is going a bit too far but I am really smart!).
So I focused on how much I hated Ulmar.
Hatred is as strong as—if not stronger than—any drug. Adrenaline fire wired me, my hands started shaking, my heartbeat quickened, and I fought for control. Control it…control it…
"What? Control it like they're controlling you? Is that what you're thinking?" Bad timing for the voice. I wanted to punch myself in the head, "Ha! Don't be stupid Kaz! Hey! I've got a great idea! Why don't you go kill Ulmar! Yeeaahhhh, kill Ulmar…what a wonderful idea…kill…kill Ulmar…"
"No." I hissed between my teeth, "No. No. No. I'm not a killer."
"You say that now." The voice muttered and then receded.
What was the use in arguing with the voice right now? I wanted to get out of here and eat and sleep. I figured I deserved that much. I followed the sound of Ulmar's movements, creeping forward every time he moved to mask the noise of my own movements, and eventually found him right in front of me.
I couldn't help it. I grinned. Then I reached down and tapped him on the shoulder. Before he could so much as yell, I'd kicked him in the stomach and sent him hurtling through the air. His cry rang through the building and I heard him thud against the opposite wall.
Hm, maybe I should have tried out for the football team back home.
Rothar slammed into me and knocked me to the floor.
Then again, maybe football wasn't my thing.
I was on my stomach, Rothar's weight crushing my chest. I clawed my fingers on the slick floor, fighting to get out from underneath him but he slammed a fist into the back of my neck. My head hit the floor, the steel band across it letting out a noisy ring. I saw stars. Rothar smashed me into the floor again, holding the back of my head and grinding my face down into it. I growled—actually growled—and threw my weight backwards as best I could, bucking him off. Fire splintered the darkness as he aimed another ball of flames at me.
"Rothar!" Chaor's voice snapped from the black around us, "That's enough! Ulmar, hit the lights." I winced as the lights came back on and then scowled when I found Chaor's pleased expression on me, "You did good, Kazzy. You're learning."
"Quit calling me that. You only call me that when you're annoyed with me." I replied hotly, wiping my nose and smearing fresh blood over the back of the armor on my hand. It didn't matter seeing as there was blood splattered all down my front anyway from my still bleeding nose, "What didn't I do that you wanted?" Not that I was interested.
"Why didn't you hit Ulmar?"
"I was afraid his ugliness would rub off on me." I spat and then was on the floor, screaming. My limbs were on fire with pain. The torment stopped and I got slowly to my feet, gasping. There were smears of crimson across the floor.
"Wrong answer." Chaor said, the silver rectangle in his hand. I stared at him, at those cold neon blue eyes, and hated him, "Why didn't you hit Ulmar?"
"I didn't want to." More pain. I thrashed across the floor, screaming my lungs out. Chaor let up again and I didn't even bother looking at him this time.
"Why didn't you hit Ulmar?"
I didn't answer. I knew what he was doing. It was psychology; classical conditioning via punishment. I wasn't going to fall for it. I wasn't some stupid rat in a box he could play with. Or, at least, I didn't want to be.
I wonder how many of these I'll get finished before I get the chance to post again. Probably not as many as I hope to.
Geez, Kaz's training is getting more and more brutal. But I guess "pain makes any lesson stick" so…
