Slowly, I woke up.
I was back in my cabin - my very crowded cabin - in my bed. I still had a killer headache from yesterday.
Ugh, yesterday was an embarrassing first day.
I planned for today to be better. So I started off this one by rolling off the bed and smacking my face on the floor.
"Bloody hell," I muttered, then stood up.
"Good morning," Brooker said. He was sitting next to the door, sipping at a cup of coffee. "Breakfast soon."
"Where did you get that?" I muttered.
"None of your business, rookie. Get to the Pavilion," he said.
"I'll find out," I warned him. For some reason, he was smirking.
On my way to the Pavilion, I spotted Ace.
"Morning," I said. He developed a sudden cough.
"What?" I said.
"Nothing," he said, smirking.
I sat next to him at the far end of one of the tables. People kept looking at me and then looking away much faster.
"What's the deal with all these looks I'm getting?" I whispered to Ace.
He shrugged.
Soon, we started lining up for sacrifices. Chiron came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and pulled me out of line.
"Umm..." He started. "You might want to..."
"What?"
"You're, umm..."
"Can I eat now?" I said impatiently. I was really hungry, and I couldn't see the reason why everyone was looking at me like I was a shaved bear.
Chiron sighed.
"You're still wearing your boxers."
I looked down. I blushed and suddenly felt very vulnerable. Then I remembered Brooker smirking at me.
"I am going to kill him," I said under my breathe and stomped back to my cabin.
It was afternoon, free time. I had to endure everyone smirking at me all day like I was a dork. Someone would have to pay.
"It was pretty funny," Ace said.
" I must've not been thinking straight. Bloody bump on my head."
"How do you think I feel?" Ace tilted his head back, showing a nasty bruise on the bottom of his chin.
"What was with th- speak of the devil," I muttered. The Eros brothers were leaning against the building across the field we were talking next to.
I started walking towards them. Ace did a double take and hurried to catch up to me.
"This isn't a good idea," he warned.
"I don't care. I'm going to teach 'em a lesson."
"Uh, this has never gone well for others, you should really-"
"No."
"Your funeral," he warned.
I stomped up to the three creeps. They didn't move, only stared in a slightly amused manner that most people reserve for silly animals.
"Why the hell did you do that to us yesterday?" I demanded.
"You were on the other team," Cobra said simply. "We did our job."
"Don't bloody pal around with me. You guys are gonna have us sore for days."
Cobra smiled. "Good."
I sighed in an exasperated manner and promptly started ripping into them. "And what was the deal with the way you introduced yourself? I haven't seen such a bloody cheesy intro since I watched cartoons from the '80s! And I haven't seen a more overly dramatic act since the circus! And the gratuitous foreign language phrases are just plain stupid. No one even understood half of what you bloody idiots said! And the matching clothes make you look like the bloody Brady Bunch! And your stupid nicknames! Generally people introduce themselves by their names, not their cheesy-as-hell nicknames!"
They were silent for a second. Then Python smirked. "Well, boy-o, you're not exactly-"
"Shut the fuck up!" I shouted. I noticed the passing people giving us a wide berth and, out of the corner of my eye, Ace cringing.
The three freaks didn't move, but I noticed all the amusement had drained from their eyes. Now their eyes looked more like how a corpse would look if it could glare.
Mamba leaned forward until his face was uncomfortably close to mine. I tried to move, but suddenly Cobra was behind me, and with lightning speed had one of my arms twisted forward and had a gloved hand pulling my chin up, exposing my neck. Python stood to the side, idly twirling a knife and smirking.
"You will watch your language when you talk to us," Mamba said, each word dropping into place carefully and precisely. His accent had vanished.
"We act this way - as you say, 'cheesy' - because people like the real us even less." He held his hand out towards Python, who gave him his knife by the handle.
"You know, before we came here, we spent some time in jail," he continued conversationally. "And after that it was the Mental Health Resource Center. It was actually very nice," he said, laughing lightly. "All three of us. We always acted as one. The individual's need was the group's need. We never bickered like you and your petty friends. We even stuck together in court. You know, all three of us have been diagnosed with Asperger's. Sometimes I wonder if it was something worse," he said, and laughed again, but this time, more bitter and sad than happy.
He held the knife up to the light, inspecting it, then lowered it so the edge rested on my throat.
God, these guys were freaky.
"Let me go," I whispered hoarsely.
Mamba smiled sadly. "I wish I could. But you must be taught a lesson. And the thing is, I know what I'm doing is wrong. In another world, we could even be friends, maybe. But no."
"I can smell the crazy coming off you," I sneered. Mamba leaned forward.
"Ah, you might smell it," he said, "but I can taste it."
He smiled sadly and continued, "I don't know if you can tell, but even now I'm still a little dramatic. I'm trying to intimidate you, can you tell? Is it working?"
"Let go."
Mamba sighed. "You are persistent and, I must admit, brave. But in the future, remember this. We resort to drastic measures." He handed the knife back to Python, and suddenly Cobra let go.
I stumbled backwards, sneering. "You guys are broken."
Mamba sighed. "We know. and one day, we hope someone will fix us." I could've sworn his voice wavered for a second.
Then the three turned away and walked off.
"Oh, and by the way," Mamba said over his shoulder, "My real name is Gabriel. It was nice meeting you, Declan."
Then they were gone.
"Crazy bastards," I muttered, rubbing my neck. I can still remember the edge of the blade resting on my skin.
"Told you," Ace said. I noticed how Ace was the only one who had even bothered to watch from a distance. Everyone else very steadfastly looked the other way.
"Did he tell you that he went to jail once?" he asked. I noticed that he seemed to have gone a little more pale than usual.
"Yeah," I said. "Freaks."
"C'mon," Ace said. "It'll be dinner soon. Just try to pretend that never happened."
Food sounded good about now.
This chapter was mostly a warm-up so I can get used to writing again and to provide more background on the Eros Trio. Next chapter should be more plot-related.
Hang Together,
Reaper of Books