Rey didn't sleep that night, not a single wink. She laid there on the floor, in the spot where she fell, and stared up at the trap door that had once been her only hope. Now it was gone, the door was closed and she could no longer reach it. And the one person she thought she could trust had betrayed her and abandoned her to her slavery. The tears had dried out long ago, and her voice had become too hoarse to scream, but the emptiness was still there. Rey had never felt so broken.

From all the sleepless nights in the Jakku undergrounds, to the times she was beaten and humiliated by Plutt, even when she thought about her parents and wondered if they were really coming for her; none of that compared to this pain. Kylo had warned her not to associate with others, told her that she was too ignorant, and said that they were untrustworthy. But she did, was so desperate enough to blindly believe that she and Mashra were one in the same, that their difference of treatment meant nothing, that they were friends.

And now… was she supposed to do now—to feel now? Is she supposed to just accept that Kylo had been right, renounce her core beliefs and allow herself to be a mindless pampered fighter? That seemed like the most logical step, but that would mean that she would not only have to forfeit her beliefs, but her whole self as well, and that would mean…

There would be no difference between her and him. They'd both been enslaved against their will. Both of them were placed in a brutal world where they had to fight not only for their life, but their entertainment of their shared master. Both were broken, and had lost their hope.

A huff left her throat, then a chuckle, then a laugh, and soon enough she was full on chortling hysterically; she couldn't contain herself. She just laughed and laughed, but not from joy, not from humor, but from pain at the irony of it all.

Light poured in through the window without her noticing, a new servant had been sent in to cover for Mashra's 'mysterious' absence without her turning her head, she was changed into her gladiator suit without her batting an eye, she was led away to the waiting room without her making a sound, and she was called out into the arena without her flinching once. She just felt numb.

Everything was surreal around her as she stumbled into the ring, Kylo opposite of her and a crowd cheering all around. Everything was muffled to Rey, and her vision was blurry; but Rey didn't care, she didn't want to see him.

The cheers were loud and joyous, the beasts around her were all exhilarated, banging against their seats with their hands, and shouting bets on who would win, throwing their surplus of money around. Suddenly a surge of fury seeped into her veins and filled her blood with hate and disgust for these wicked people. All the confusion and her self-hatred, her misery, every last bit of it turned to a pissed off hatred for those who had put her where she was, and kept her there. Just as Rey had so many times, she wanted them to burn, and this time she didn't stop herself from feeling this way; accepting the animal they had made her.

Her vision cleared and she could see with clarity the man before her—tall, pale, and broad—and her gaze fixated on him, but they held no hatred, rather an understanding.

They circled each other, a mutual respect held in the air, their names being called out. Rey could tell that each of them had accepted their fight, neither one backing down or giving ground. This fight would be no different than it would be with other fighters; here they were opponents, nothing else.

Kylo lunged first, making a move for her neck. Rey recognized the move from the end of their very first fight, when he paralyzed her and knocked her out. Her teacher had yet to teach her out to perform his nerve attacks, but she had eyes keen enough to know when and how to avoid them. This wouldn't be easily won, in fact Rey knew she would most likely lose, but she be damned if she didn't put up a fight.

Rey jumped to the side to avoid his out reached hand, and then aimed a kick for his gut. Kylo caught her ankle, picked her up in the air, and slammed her down hard. She knew he was trying to win by knock out, but she wouldn't allow him the satisfaction. He brought her up to do it again, but she aimed her free leg and his temple, and slammed him hard to the ground. His grip became loose and she managed to slip away. Hastily before he could bring himself back on his feet, Rey hit his side with her entire body and got him to lie on his chest. Holding his arms behind his back with her own arms, she wrapped her legs around his throat and got him in a chock hold. A countdown began towards her victory. He struggled for a while, unsuccessfully trying to get her off or to loosen her grip. Soon enough though he managed to get up shakily to his feet, and then jump flat on his back, crushing her under his weight.

The wind was knocked from her lungs and she was momentarily dazed, but it was all the time he needs to trap her in his arms, holding her arms behind her, her legs stuck uselessly under him, and his large hand over both her mouth and nose, refusing her to breathe in any precious air. Now the countdown started for Kylo's victory. Rey wiggled viscously in his lap, attempting fruitlessly to escape her captor's arms. Alas, the countdown reached zero, some disappointed awe's rung through the air mixed with excited cheers for those who had won their bet. Their joy sounded like nails against metal to her

Kylo let her go, and stood up to his feet, Rey staying on the ground—as it was tradition for the loser to stay down and await their punishment. Somehow Rey knew he wouldn't kill her; he didn't before, why would he now? Yet she knew a punishment was still coming. Based on the words Snoke had spoke to her last night she figured that he would only be pleased if blood was drawn. Rey was proved right when she saw him be handed a sword.

Kylo held the blade a few inches away from her chest, and she wondered where he would strike. Would he cut off her ear? Scar her face like she scarred him? Before her thoughts let her think up any more wild scenarios, he moved. Bringing his arm back he took a swing at her. Rey tried not to flinch and closed her eyes, silently wishing he'd take off her head like he has with so many others. Instead she felt a searing pain pierce the top of her bicep where her arm meets her shoulder. His sword cut deep and left a sharp cut in her arm. Blood spilled out fast from the fresh wound, soaking her skin and clothes.

Rey cried out and clutched her wound with a dirty hand, probably getting dirt in it and making it worse. Louder cheers erupted from her punishment; Rey looked at this with a twisted snarl, desiring in that moment that she be let out of this arena with a chance to cut down every single one of them.

Feeling a large hand on her unhurt arm, Rey was led out by Kylo, dragged harshly from the arena to make way for the next round. He pulled her to their waiting room, locking the door behind them. Rey was about to say something when he suddenly pulled out a knife, holding it out for her.

"You're turn." He said plainly, taking off his shirt, offering her his arm.

"Huh..?"

"I cut you, you cut me. It's only logical."

"I- I don't- I," Rey was at a loss for words or actions. Her body, which had very shortly ago been filled to the brim with anger, was now shaking in confusion and fear. Rey was met at a thin tightrope, being forced across over fire by the look in his eyes. For the first time since she met him Rey didn't want to harm Kylo. Is that how he felt in the ring? Is that why he was doing this?

A dreadful feeling filled her gut—an awful wretched emotion that Rey had never once felt in her life except a few times; and the last time she felt it was with Mashra. Compassion. Compassion for a life other than her own. Yet, this feeling was different, much stronger, and much more threatening. Her heart was just destroyed from a feeling that was weaker than this, and now she was faced with it again so soon after out of nowhere. Or was it really out of nowhere? As Much as Rey wanted to deny it, and reject her own heart that was still very much shattered, this has been building up over the past couple weeks… But what should she do with it?

Rey looked up at Kylo, peering into his begging, soft eyes. Rey gulped and took a haggard breath. Reaching out her hand she grasped the knife in her palm. Their eye contact didn't break for a moment as she placed the knife against his triceps, their attention focused solely on each other.

Rey did it fast, it one swift cut, just as he did with her. Kylo barley flinched, just a twitch of his right eye. Once the deed was done, Rey dropped the knife and let if fall to the ground by their feet. His blood dripped and fell onto her, while her blood stained him. The air around was electric and set their skin tingling with passion.

Kylo began to lean in slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Rey stayed where she was, at a loss for what to do or what she wanted. She had never been so ready or so unprepared for anything her whole life. However as all moments do, it ended when the door opened a slave announced that Kylo's match was up next in five minutes. Neither of them said anything to him or to each other.

They didn't leave their places in each other arms, but they didn't continue ether. They simply stayed still, looking at the door. After some time had passed in a strained silence, Kylo pulled away without a word spoken, put on his shirt, and left to fight in the ring once more.

Rey stood and watched the door for a while more, but once she heard the hologram in the room spring to life, displaying the fight to her, she moved to stand before it. She turned it off. If Kylo wins and comes back to her, she'll know when he walks through the door. But if he doesn't... She doesn't want to see it happen. Whatever had just occurred between them… whatever they were… Rey didn't want to lose it. Maybe this was delusion; maybe her broken heart was simply using him as a latch from a pit fall of despair. No matter what this was, or how it came to be, Rey feared that if this too was taken away, she'd be nothing more than a ghost in a hollow shell.

…

The fight was a long one and definitely one of the most difficult he's ever gone through. This man was not only strong, skilled, and had stamina; but also experienced. When a veteran faced another veteran in the ring with an equal chance of winning, the crowd always went wild; and Snoke was always pleased. When the time came for him to take his head, Kylo could see the sinister smirk from his master in the crowd.

After being released from the arena, Kylo was advised to seek immediate medical attention in the medical bay—as he had server bleeding in several places, several broken and sprained bones, and the cut on his arm that they assumed he had gotten in the fight. However Kylo could not stand to be away from Rey for a moment longer, not with how they ended things.

He didn't know what happened between the last time he saw her to their moment in the waiting room, but suddenly she no longer seemed to use him as her outlet of hatred, no longer seemed to be holding on to ignorance for the sake of hope; and no longer had that light in her eyes. Kylo knew what this all meant: Rey had broke down and snapped. But he didn't know the cause for it.

Walking back to the room, Kylo wasted no time letting himself in. Rey lay on the couch staring at nothing, no expression, no movement. Once he closed the door and took a step closer in, she turned her head to look at him.

"You made it back." She voiced relief in her tone.

"Did you doubt I would?"

"You can never be too sure. Death is too frequent in this life." Her eyes were remorseful and drained.

Kylo moved closer to her, taking cautious steps, and eventually kneeled at her side. Rey moved from lying down to sitting up, leaning forward and resting her elbow on her thighs. Kylo put a tentative hand on her back as he sat on the couch too, Rey leaning into him.

"Rey, what happened?" He asked softly. The room was still and quiet for several heartbeats as the girl in his arms bitterly tried to fight back tears, her breathing irregular and heavy as she tried to regain composure.

"You were right. Mashra she… She didn't give a damn about me. She escaped and left last night, leaving me behind." Rey murmured, sniffling while drops of tears fell down.

"You were going to escape?" Kylo asked in surprised. Rey backed away out of his hold and held herself in a tight ball, holding her head in her hands, shaking violently.

"I wanted to leave. I still do. I'm being driven crazy by this fucked up life, I can't take it. I had to get out before I broke." She cried, shaking her head, sobbing, "But I'm already broken, I have been ever since I was first put in the ring as a small child. I have too much blood on my hands; I'm drowning in it! I'm haunted by what I've done, of what I am! I don't want to do it, but I can't stop. I-I'm a monster."

Rey proceeded to wail and sob beside him. Kylo brought her back into his arms, but still she cried. In the end, Kylo couldn't prevent her from following down his path. He knew exactly how she feels, the twisted self-hatred and disgust, a will to die but fear to let go. It's a torment that acts like an insatiable hunger from a parasite within your own body, always clawing at your mind and tearing you apart from the inside. Kylo had to go through it alone; his attempts were never able to give him relief from it. Even if they were to escape, it would never stop.

He wasn't sure how to comfort her, since he couldn't even comfort himself. He already knew he couldn't ease the pain, but he could give her an outlet.

This relationship they had, it was stained and dirty and impure, but it was all either of them had. If they, two drowning souls, could somehow keep one of them afloat then maybe one of them will make it. If not then they could go down together into the depths. At least there they might find some peace.

Kylo knew very well that Rey was using him to keep her from sinking to those depths, and may very well drown him in the process. But his obsession and intoxication of her craved that she be with him. It was sick, but so where they.

Or were they the pure ones and everyone else was the toxic ones? They had just as much blood on them as Kylo and Rey. After all, if a man brings down a sword on a hundred necks, who's to blame, the man or the sword?

Kylo pushed Rey back gently and lifted her chin, shushing her sobs and cupping her cheek softly in his large hands. Rey looked into his eyes, lost and afraid, and he looked into hers, with lust and passion.

"We're both monsters."

Closing the gap between them Kylo slowly placed his lips against hers, tasting salt.

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This is getting really dark... and I've written some messed up shit before in my life. Well, tell me what you think por favor. Sorry for taking so long, I'm currently visiting family.

See y'all later!

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