KnAngel18: Thanks! I'm glad you took the time to review. Hope to see you around in the future.
Bubbles: The Slaver is having a party. You read it correctly. Haha. And I love that you had that image of Seto. You and I clearly think alike. And I'm glad that you like the Slaver. That was something I was working for. And trust me, this is a party you want no part of.
Pk Love Omega: Vivid detail is something that I work for. Doesn't really come naturally. Haha. Thanks for the review!
Dmitri Stormblood: I did originally want there to be some party crashers, but I decided to go a different direction. What's a dark monster? Not the Trap Master, right? Because every one I have seen is Earth, just like the one I have. . . I just got confused there.
Lace Kyoko: Did you really think so? I kind of thought the chapter was a bit so, but I like how you seem to have enjoyed it. Hopefully, you will like this one way more.
TeresaShiho: Haha- I have a tendency to review right before an update too. And I hope the party lives up to your expectations. And I'm glad that you like the Slaver's POV, because I was really worried about that one. And the Light/Dark monster interaction scene is the next chapter. That's why the poll was on my profile. You'll be seeing it from Krin's POV.
Aqua-Princess of Imagination: You know, I hadn't thought of any irony behind that rule you brought up. But I really see it now. And trust me, I'm bringing the craziness in this chapter. It's . . . something.
ZQuill: Haha- I wasn't too consistent with updating this chapter. It is just SO LONG. The longest one yet, in fact. I think I'm making up for the last chapter being so short. And I love sarcasm on Mokuba. It fits him well. And how many times do you think Kisara could whine about Seto before Krin or Kara cut in? I'm going to attribute her lack of talking about him to that. And no tabloidshipping here. But I can see where you would get that. Just two people who only have each other in the world left to depend on. And no, not a regular party at all. Wait for it. . .. .
Havelock Vetinari: Haha- he does not have a trench coat. Probably because the dragons would have found him a whole lot sooner if he was that conspicuous. Who knows, maybe he will come across one later on.
-Also! NONE of you got my favourite line. You got some of my favourites, but not the actual one. I'll be posting the complete list on my blog right after I update. So. . . It's up there now I suppose. I have listed my favourites from every chapter to this point. Check it out and let me know how it compares with your list.
AN: New Poll posted on my profile. Mind you, this is a blind poll. I'm taking this one far in advance so that I can start working out the finishing touches on the plot. So, if you want a say in Kuriboh's fate, go vote!
Seto
After Mokuba had fallen asleep, I just laid beside him thinking. Mokuba and I didn't often disagree, but on the matter of the government's planned attack, we took opposing sides.
He disagreed with any form of attack. I saw why he believed that it would be wrong. No matter what we did to clear people out, there would always be the few we missed. Lives would be lost. We couldn't prevent that. The monsters had carried people underground and into the woods. And it wasn't just the city at risk, but all of the surrounding areas. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people would die.
It went against every part of my soul to allow innocent people to die. Yet I understood something that Mokuba didn't seem to. If we stood aside and allowed the monsters to claim complete control, then we had no hope. Mankind had to step up in some form. A bomb would be the fastest way to prove a point, but by far the choice with the most causalities. I knew what Mokuba didn't; the government had been asking me for KaibaCorp's old blue prints. They had been searching for another way to accomplish the attack. This was a last resort.
Gozaburo trained me in military procedure. Words from my old textbooks ran across my vision. Figures for acceptable causalities appeared, but I pushed the numbers out of my thoughts. No deaths should be considered acceptable.
I slept soon after Mokuba. He woke up several times during the night, which woke me up as well. Every time, he would groan when he tried to roll over, then turn to me and say, "Did I wake you up?" He would promptly fall back asleep.
I smiled every time.
When we woke up, we waited for a while. But when the Slaver failed to arrive, we decided to get cleaned up since we had nothing better to do.
So now Mokuba and I sat leaning up against a wall, both of us with our hair soaking wet. The Slaver didn't think it necessary to keep a bathroom stocked with anything, including towels.
"Worst thing the dragons did to you?" Mokuba asked.
We had begun to play a game after we both showered. In order to catch ourselves up over the events of the past week, we would alternate asking questions. That would prevent one of us from doing most of the talking.
"Kisara beat me up for running away," I answered.
Mokuba looked shocked, but it went against our rules to ask follow-up questions. In order to gain more details, he would have to wait for my turn to end.
"First place you went once you were free from Kuriboh?"
"I was stopped by Maggie Nale. So her house," Mokuba responded.
I nodded. I had heard of Nale. It did not surprise me that she would pull my brother off the street to help him.
"Why aren't you still hurt?" Mokuba asked.
"They brought me a healer. Where where you intending to go?"
"I had no plan. I was just running. They have healers?" Mokuba asked, then glanced at his ankle.
"It was a Griggle, so it makes sense. Why does the Slaver like you so much?"
"What's not to like?" Mokuba said. He was about to go on to his question, but stopped. He put his finger up to his lips. Only seconds later, I heard what he did.
Footsteps were coming near to our room. But it wasn't just one pair. Was someone else with him?
I reminded myself not to speak. I dug my thumbnail into my palm to continually remind me that speaking would result in death.
Mokuba gave me a fake smile as the door opened. It was supposed to be reassuring, and although I still didn't believe everything was fine, the amusing expression made me smile as well.
"In a good mood?" The Slaver questioned.
"Humans smile when they are miserable," Mokuba answered.
The Slaver cocked his head in confusion. "You are lying to me," he stated.
"You said I had to talk; you didn't say I had to be honest."
Expectedly, the Slaver smiled. "I brought you a present, boy."
The Slaver turned slightly to grab something that was in the hallway. Mokuba and I both leaned over to see what it was. The action was entirely unnecessary as almost instantly, the Slaver pulled in a man who clutched a bag close to his chest.
"Fix him," the Slaver ordered. He shoved him further into the room.
I knew the man. Not personally, but he had been at several of the meetings I attended. Like me, he stayed near the back of the room and rarely spoke. I never learned his name.
The man was visibly nervous. His entire body shook while he walked over to us. He glanced back often to make sure he was doing nothing wrong.
"Mr. Kaiba?" He whispered.
I elbowed Mokuba when he didn't answer for me. Mokuba turned to me, then realized what I was trying to say. "Oh!" he exclaimed before facing back to the man. "Seto can't talk. I'm Mokuba."
"Marshall. I was brought here because your ankle is broken?" he said, but sounded unsure.
"Can you fix it here?" Mokuba asked doubtfully.
He turned around again. The Slaver said nothing, but leaned against the door frame and stared. Marshall began to fumble through the bag he carried along with him. He pulled out bottles, bandages, braces, and many other supplies.
"I can do my best," he said.
"Where did he find you?" Mokuba asked. Marshall got more fidgety when Mokuba spoke to him. It probably would have made him feel more comfortable if Mokuba allowed him to work in silence.
"He came into the east side hospital saying that he had a broken ankle. When I went in to examine him, he grabbed me," Marshall said as he lifted up Mokuba's leg, bringing a cry out from my brother. Marshall didn't apologize, but continued studying Mokuba's ankle.
I held a hand out to Mokuba. I wanted to tell him to squeeze it to help counteract the pain, but without being able to speak, the best I could do was hope he would catch on.
Mokuba immediately grabbed hold. He didn't just squeeze my hand, but his nails dug into my palm. Even if I could have said something about it, I wouldn't have. In comparison to what he was experiencing, I never could complain.
"How did you know where the hospital was?" Mokuba asked the Slaver although several winces appeared throughout the sentence.
"Do you really believe that I do not know where all of your human hideouts are located?"
"You're like a stalker," Mokuba muttered, then gasped as Marshall turned his ankle slightly.
I lost circulation in my hand.
"It is my-" the Slaver began. Mokuba cut him off.
"Yeah, your job. I've heard it before. It's your job to kidnap people and sell them to the highest bidder. Well, unless you happen to enjoy that person's company."
"You understand perfectly then. Now be silent."
Mokuba did as he was told. Instead of devoting energy into speaking, he redirected it into his grip on my hand. I no longer minded, as I had lost all sensation in my hand.
The doctor held Mokuba's ankle in what seemed to be a straight position. I could see him mouthing something to himself, but his head was tilted down so I was unable to read his lips. I wanted him to say what was on his mind so that I would know. If he had concerns, I needed to hear them.
He didn't speak as he worked. No one in the room did. The only sounds came from Mokuba, though he was trying to stay quiet. I could see the focus printed across his features. He wanted to be strong throughout, but he cracked quite a few times. Marshall had begun bracing it, but in the process, he moved Mokuba's ankle a lot.
But as he worked, Mokuba seemed to relax. His grip on my hand lightened as the wrap around his foot grew thicker. By the time Marshall gently lowered Mokuba's leg to set it back on the mattress, Mokuba had let go entirely.
"Without surgery, setting it is the best that I can do," Marshall said.
"Will I be able to walk?" Mokuba asked.
"Maybe. But even under the best circumstances, it will not heal properly. Your ankle was severely injured," he said.
He was holding back. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't think Mokuba had much of a chance of walking, at least not without a limp.
Marshall picked up a few of the bottles he had pulled out of his bag. He handed one to Mokuba. "These are antibiotics. Take one three times a day until they run out. If you can stay away from an infection, that will greatly increase your chances of being able to walk."
He took a second bottle. "And these are pain killers. Try to only take a few a day."
Mokuba accepted both containers. He laid them in his lap and whispered a "thank you." There was no hiding his disappointment at the unfortunate news.
"Are you finished?" The Slaver asked.
Marshall nodded and stood up. He grabbed his bag and walked back to the Slaver slowly. The two of them left the room.
"Does it hurt less?" I asked.
Mokuba shrugged. "It helps that I can't accidentally move it. He braced it pretty tightly."
A scream came from the other side of the door. My heart sank as I realized what had just happened. Mokuba realized it only seconds after me.
"Did he just kill the doctor?"
"I think so," I said with a hushed tone.
Mokuba gritted his teeth tightly together as he rolled his eyes up to keep from crying. He didn't succeed, but let a tear slip from the side near to me. He quickly brought a hand up to wipe it away, but it didn't keep the second from falling.
"He died because of me," Mokuba said through his clenched teeth. He raised his hands to cover his face, because like me, he had been taught not to cry. He might have managed it if not for the previous days. The frustration and pain must have built up to his breaking point. There was no stopping the stream of tears that had begun to pour down his face.
"No-" I started, but when the door opened, my mouth closed.
"You two now have to prepare for my party tonight," the Slaver said, but then noticed Mokuba's condition. He appeared very taken aback, but still said, "Is something the matter?"
Mokuba used the back of his arm to clear his face of the tears. He glared at the Slaver through still-wet eyes and spat, "Why did you have to kill him?"
"That is what you are upset about?" The Slaver questioned. "You had to have known that I was planning to do so from the moment I brought him here."
"Why do you get to decide that my life is more valuable than his?" Mokuba asked.
"Because you are the slave. Your opinions do not matter in my thoughts. I suggest you forget about that human and prepare for the day's events."
Mokuba looked at me, but I couldn't answer him. Instead, I stared at him, desperately trying to convey the message, "Let it go for now." I knew that was far too specific to convert into one gaze, but Mokuba seemed to get the general idea. The Slaver might enjoy his company, but there was no reason to push his luck.
So instead of speaking, Mokuba shifted his focus back to the Slaver and waited for him to speak again. I felt Mokuba's hand quivering against my side. I wanted so badly to talk to him at that moment. Instead of listening to the Slaver telling Mokuba how anymore outbursts would not be tolerated, I tried to think of a way to communicate to my brother.
I nearly laughed as I realized the solution to my problem. It was absurd that Mokuba or myself hadn't already thought of it.
"Now come with me and I will show you where you will be working," the Slaver ordered, and I helped Mokuba to his feet. Technically, I helped Mokuba stand up on his one still-operating foot. He leaned against me and began to hop in the path the Slaver directed.
"Child, your job will be in here," the Slaver said as he led us into a cluttered kitchen. Trap Master pulled out a stool and pointed to it, so I walked Mokuba over. It relieved me when I saw how much less pain he seemed to be in.
Mokuba adjusted on the stool and leaned forward to prop his elbows on the counter. He had to push away piles of boxes before he could do so. He placed the pill bottles he had been carrying on the counter in front of him.
I didn't say anything when he moved the boxes, but I noticed a trail of red created from the movement. Mokuba had yet to see it since he was glaring at the Slaver.
I placed my hand on the tabletop and began to tap a finger. Within seconds, Mokuba was looking in my direction. A smile broke out across his face, which he quickly hid behind a hand.
But when the Slaver turned around to grab another of the boxes, Mokuba held up his fist and I tapped it lightly. The Slaver faced us again and we dropped our hands down before he could see them.
"What is that?" Mokuba asked, voicing the question that I had been unable to.
"What is what?" The Slaver questioned.
"That," Mokuba said and indicated to the red stain.
The Slaver smiled and opened up the box Mokuba was referring to. He then reached inside and pulled out a large object and threw it down in front of Mokuba. We both shifted back slightly as the large slab of meat slammed down before us.
"This is dinner," the Slaver said.
"For some reason, I would have pegged you for a vegan," Mokuba said while still leaning away from the large piece of raw meat.
"I have not heard that word in my time here. What is a vegan?"
"Not eating meat or animal products," Mokuba explained. I didn't know if he actually sat around and thought about the Slaver's diet or if that was just one of his random statements. I certainly never considered it. But now that I thought it over, I disagreed with Mokuba.
"Why would I eat anything that came from the Earth?" The Slaver said as an answer to Mokuba's statement.
"How should I know? I was just giving you my opinion. Oh wait, you don't care."
"So glad you are catching on. To prepare for the party tonight, you two will cut all this up into smaller pieces," the Slaver instructed. I immediately began to count the number of boxes in the room, which we now knew were full of this meat. I couldn't get an exact number from where I stood, but I could tell there were at least several dozen.
"That's gross."
The Slaver laughed. "Just do it. I will be coming back for you after a while," the Slaver said to me.
He was about to leave, but he stopped to talk to Mokuba first. He stepped between the two of us and said, "You never did thank me."
Mokuba snorted. "You let my ankle be broken, kidnapped me more than once, and then killed the doctor you also kidnapped. I'm sorry I'm not more grateful."
The Slaver shrugged and stepped away, but quickly moved to stand behind me. He placed a hand around my throat and put his head on my shoulder. I instantly tried to pull away, but he held tightly.
"I would appreciate some gratitude. After all, if you are not thankful, I will no longer do kind things for you. And that means I will have to take away your brother."
"Thank you," Mokuba said, but he rolled his eyes after speaking.
The Slaver either didn't notice, or he didn't care about Mokuba's disrespectful act. He let go of me and left the room. We both waited until we were certain that he was gone.
"Morse code? That was so smart!" Mokuba exclaimed quietly.
"Yeah, I am 'Seto freaking Kaiba,'" I said, repeating his phrase from last night and putting air quotes around my name.
Mokuba used his thumb and index finger to pick up the edge of the meat. He gave it a disgusted look before laying it back down. "How are we supposed to cut this?"
"I'm sure there is a knife in here somewhere."
Because Mokuba couldn't walk, I went around the kitchen and searched for a knife set. The pieces of meat were very thick, so in order to cut through it, we would need large, sharp knives. The search through the kitchen was far from pleasant. I could not find an inch of space that wasn't covered in dust, dirt, or blood. Even the insides of the drawers were just as dirty. By the time I found knives, my hands were brown.
I picked up two of the utensils and carried them to the sink.
"Everything in here is disgusting, Seto. Are you seriously going to bother washing things down?" Mokuba asked. He had turned partially in his seat so he could watch me work.
"I'm not washing everything down, just my hands and the knives. Maybe the area we will be working on," I said as I ran my hands under the water.
"Why don't you just do the floors while you are at it?"
"If you say that any louder, he might come back in and make us scrub the floors," I said as I began to wipe off the knives. I nearly stopped once the dirt was mostly off, but I couldn't do anything halfway. So I continued washing off the knives until I found them satisfactory.
"Knowing you, you'll end up cleaning the entire room. It kills you to be in here, doesn't it?" Mokuba said.
"I don't know what you are referring to," I answered. I moved back over to the island and laid the knives down on top of the meat so that they wouldn't have to touch the top of the counter.
"I'm referring to your inability to do anything without making sure it is perfect. Seto, we are working for a monster. Do you really believe that he cares if anything is clean? I mean, look at this place!" Mokuba said, holding out both hands as if to show me the state of the room.
"Why provoke him?" I asked while handing my brother a knife. He dropped the knife onto the counter where there seemed to be an excess of filth. I reached out to pick it up, but he slid it away from me.
"You are OCD."
"No I'm not," I said, ignoring his knife and beginning to cut up the meat that was already laying out.
"Then why are you cutting that in perfect squares?"
"Shouldn't you be doing this too?" I asked in a poor attempt to change the subject. Mokuba was enjoying this conversation far too much to simply let it drop.
"I should be. Why won't you just admit it? It's not like there is anything wrong with you having a disorder," Mokuba said.
"I don't have a disorder. I just like things to be done properly."
Mokuba shook his head. He then reached up to grab the top of the nearest box and in one fast motion, pulled it over to its side.
"So I can reach inside," he explained. Mokuba pulled one of the pieces of meat out and wrinkled his nose when his fingers touched it. The expression remained on his face as he picked up the knife. He looked blankly at the two items.
"You have to get started eventually," I said. I had just finished slicing the first piece and reached for a second. I used my wrist to push the chunks out of the way to make room.
"I thought I had started. Can't you just do it all? You will do it better."
I raised an eyebrow in Mokuba's direction. "Do you really think I can do all of these boxes on my own? It isn't so bad," I said, finishing with a lie. It really was hard for me to do. From the moment I started, my hands became coated in the blood from the meat. As the blood began to dry, it grew sticky, which attracted what appeared to be all of the dirt and dust in the room.
"I was wrong. You must not be OCD. This is awful."
"Glad you agree. Now, you'd better start," I said.
"This is a whole lot of boxes. How many monsters do you think he has coming?" Mokuba asked as he finally began to cut.
"Maybe they just have excessive appetites. Better question, why do monsters have parties?"
"Even more important than that, what do monsters do at their parties? I doubt they will be playing Twister," Mokuba commented.
"I believe we would be better off if we didn't focus too much on what is going to happen in a few hours. I doubt that any guesses we make will be accurate," I said.
Mokuba pressed his lips together before saying, "Fine. Be a bore."
We didn't talk much over the next hour. The Slaver must have been making preparations in the next room because he constantly walked by the door. To be cautious, Mokuba and I limited our conversation to tapping out small sentences on the table. Mokuba found the action quite amusing and began to use his knife to tap out beats instead of letters. I didn't stop him from wasting time. I enjoyed watching him nod his head while clearly singing some song in his head. If I ignored the filth in the kitchen and that we were cutting up raw, bloody meat, I could nearly imagine that we were back at the mansion fixing dinner. Ironically, it was the closest to normal that we had been in a while.
When the Slaver returned, we were in the process of pushing our completed work into the box we had emptied. He surveyed what all we had done and said, "You will need to work far more quickly."
"This takes a really long time," Mokuba said.
"Work faster."
Mokuba rolled his eyes, but didn't stop filling the box. However, he continued to move at his prior pace.
The Slaver didn't comment on Mokuba's speed. He looked to me and said, "I am going to show you what all you must do tonight. Step over here."
The Slaver moved to the other side of the kitchen where a counter wasn't covered in the same sort of boxes. This space had what appeared to be large, plastic containers with a spout at the bottom. Beside sat a vast assortment of different types of cups, varying from the cheap, colored version to the more expensive wine glasses.
He picked up one at random and held it underneath the spout. He then opened the nozzle and a liquid poured out which I recognized to be blood.
"When my guests arrive, fill these and deliver them to everyone," the Slaver instructed. He lifted up the cup and drank the contents.
"What kind of blood is that?" Mokuba called out from where he sat. I turned my head back to him and nodded a quick thanks for his question. That was my exact concern.
"Are you assuming that it is human?" He asked.
"Well, I wouldn't put it past you," Mokuba said.
When the Slaver grinned, his teeth were slightly tinted red. "It is blood taken from the animals which you are currently cutting. There is no reason to waste potential slaves," he said. But in a voice that Mokuba couldn't hear, he added, "besides, humans have no real flavor."
I wouldn't have responded to that if I could.
Before the Slaver could continue with my list of duties, Mokuba asked, "What exactly is the point of having this party?"
"I am biding my family in this city goodbye," the Slaver said.
"So it is a going-away party?" Mokuba asked.
"We are going away," the Slaver said, his words sounding faintly of confusion. I was beginning to see how limited his knowledge was of human phrases. That fact was unexpected. He had said that it was his job to know about humans, so shouldn't he know how we speak?
"Is it common for monsters to have parties?"
The Slaver appeared momentarily irritated, but the expression soon disappeared. "Child, we are not monsters."
"Yeah? You certainly act like them," Mokuba muttered.
Every time that Mokuba made a comment such as that, I expected the Slaver to snap. If anyone spoke to me like Mokuba spoke to the Slaver, it would have angered me. But just as all the other times before, the Slaver responded in the same way.
He smiled.
"Just because you do not understand the differences in our species does not mean that we are monsters," he stated. That was the last the Slaver said in that particular discussion. He changed course by saying, "Now slave, come out here and I will point out a few more things."
He left the room with me following behind. Mokuba gave me the same faking encouraging smile as before as I walked out.
When we entered the living room, he said, "Move everything to the edges of the room." And he stepped back.
There wasn't too much furniture in the center. I didn't bother making any show of defiance, as I imagined that this command might be one of the simpler ones I would receive during the rest of the night. The Slaver had leaned against the wall closest to the front door, so I began to push the couch in the direction of the kitchen. He made no comments that he wanted it elsewhere.
The couch which had so repulsed me yesterday now barely registered in my thoughts. After working in his kitchen and seeing that mess, the couch didn't seem so bad.
Once that was as close to the wall as I could manage, I proceeded to move the coffee table. That was the last piece of furniture that was not already next to a wall. That I placed right next to the couch.
The instant that I had finished, the Slaver said, "Now go behind the house and clear away all that is out there."
The living room had a sliding glass door which lead into a fenced in backyard. I nearly pointed to it to ask if that was what he meant by, "behind the house," but I decided that he could not have meant anything else.
The lock on the door was broken and that seemed out of place. Why would the Slaver, who had such a fascination with chains, keep a broken lock? If Mokuba was able to walk, would he still leave it so, or was he really so confident that we were not planning to escape?
Even though his home was located in the suburbs, his backyard was fairly large. In a corner next to the house stood contained a shed with its door hanging off its hinges, and in the middle of the yard, a fire pit. Neither of those things seemed strange to me. It was the large metal device built next to the fire pit that confused me. There were three metal poles that were sticking out of the ground. They rose about eight feet into the air and had hardware on the top as if something was supposed to be connected to it. I walked around the garbage piled in the yard to get a better view to examine the contraption, but even from underneath, I couldn't tell what it was for.
"Get to work!" The Slaver yelled from inside the doorway. With one final glance, I concluded that I would not be able to figure out what it was that the bars were for, so I stepped away.
I wanted to ask where he wanted me to put the massive piles of trash that filled the yard, but I couldn't talk and he had left. I doubted that this job was just to move things to the edges of the yard.
I walked the perimeter of the yard. There were two gates total, both of which were locked. That must have been the reason he inside door did not have to be fixed.
But since those were chained closed, I had to figure out a different way of moving the trash. The odds of the Slaver allowing me to carry it through the house and out the front door were so slim that I barely regarded that as a possibility. My only real choice was to throw it over the fence.
I glanced up at the sky where the Sun was shining brightly. If I was to move the trash over the fence, then it would take hours. From the looks of the yard, the Slaver had emptied everything he did not want out of the house. The previous owner's furniture, electronics, personal items, decorations, and the like had all been scattered across the yard. The items had been sitting in the same position for what I could tell was a long time, as the weather had made them almost unrecognizable.
Taking a deep breath, I began.
I had been correct in my assumption that it would take hours to complete the task. Moving the first pile to the other side of the fence hadn't been too difficult. But as the day progressed, the temperature around me rose, and I grew more tired with every throw. The larger pieces of furniture had to be disassembled to some extent in order to make them light enough to lift. More than that, some of the wooden furniture had begun to decay while being outside. The result was sharp edges and in some cases, splinters. Those were not my only problems. My hands were unaccustomed to the labor I forced upon them, and cuts and blisters appeared across my hands.
The Sun was just nearing the horizon by the time I threw the last stack of picture frames across. I did one final check through the yard to make sure I had left nothing behind before walking to the house.
When I entered, the Slaver was nowhere to be seen. So I walked to the kitchen to find Mokuba.
He was still in the same position as when I had left, doing the exact same thing. He saw me and breathed a dejected sigh.
"I am so bored."
As I passed the counter I typed out, "I can see that."
I stood in front of the sink and twisted the knob. Part of me expected the water to be brown, but it was just as clear as the shower had been. It was also just as cold. I stuck my hands underneath and began to gently wash them off.
"What did he have you doing all day?" Mokuba asked. My hands were occupied at the time, so I didn't answer.
"He isn't in here. You should be fine if you whisper," Mokuba added.
"Clearing the backyard," I said quietly. I came across a splinter just after I answered him and had to use a thumbnail to force it out of my palm. I knew that would not be the only time I would need to perform the action.
"That's-" Mokuba started, but stopped when he likely heard the same footsteps approaching that I did.
"Are you finished?" The Slaver asked.
I couldn't tell who he was speaking to, so I continued washing my hands. Mokuba answered for the both of us.
"I'm still cutting. Seto is done in the backyard."
"You really have to do that more quickly, child. And slave, finish cleaning yourself and come out here," the Slaver said, then I heard him leave.
Mokuba and I simultaneously looked at each other and mouthed, "cleaning yourself?" Mokuba then added, "What are you, a cat?"
I didn't answer, as I had gotten distracted with another splinter. The remainder of time washing my hands went about the same way. For every inch of dirt I removed, I found another splinter. It took near to twenty minutes before I decided I had done all that I was capable of doing. And then I took the time to wash my face and neck off.
Then I glanced back to the cups laid out across the room. I walked over and picked one up and went over to the sink to fill it with water. I then handed it to Mokuba.
"Take your medicine," I instructed. Since his hands were covered in blood, I opened the bottles for him and pulled out one of each pill. He opened his mouth and I stuck them inside. He did as I asked, swallowing both of the pills at once.
"You should get out there," he said.
"Wish me luck," I whispered to him.
"You don't need luck. You've got this."
Sometimes I hated his optimism.
I walked into the living room to meet the Slaver. He was standing next to the front door and unlocking it. When he saw me, he came to stand in front of me.
"Make an attempt to be efficient tonight. Know that you will be punished if you embarrass me," the Slaver said.
I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond. Did he want a nod or something?
I crossed my arms.
Both of our heads turned as the front door flew open, slamming into the wall. Through the door came in a stampede of monsters, all of a different sort. I recognized several, a Sengenjin, Tiger Dragon, Buster Blader, Battle Ox, Giant Rat, and many others. There were some I wasn't familiar with. As they entered, a few transformed into misshapen human figures while some remained beasts.
"Cousins!" Trap Master exclaimed in a tone that closely resembled cheerfulness.
"Leave the door open!" He called out. "More are on the way!"
There were already dozens of monsters filling the room. I simply stood where I was, hesitant to bump into any of the beasts. They however, had no problem brushing against me. I attempted not to stumble, but one solid push knocked me back into the Slaver.
He had been in a conversation with the human version of the Tiger Dragon. When I bumped him, he barely turned to see what had happened.
When he did see that it was me, he grabbed my arm and faced me towards the monster he was speaking to. Although Tiger Dragon was more human, the bold black stripes remained on his orange skin.
"Cousin, this is my new slave." As he spoke, the Slaver moved his hands to either side of my face so I was unable to look away. "I told you he was not horrible."
Tiger Dragon did what I believed to be a smile. He upper lip was the only part of his face that moved, and that only flipped upwards to reveal his top row of fangs. It could have been more of a sneer.
"And you expect this one to last?" He asked.
"If my record holds consistent, then I will be required to replace him within the month. It is my hope this one makes it longer."
Just as the Slaver took his hands from my face, I realized that it never occurred to me that the Slaver didn't own any other slaves. But he had a past record with slaves not lasting? What happened to them?
While the Slaver had been talking, more and more monsters flooded through the door. It soon grew to the point where there was little room to move. The Slaver saw this and announced, "If you will, step out to the back area! Entertainment will arrive in only a short time!"
The he said to me, "Are you not supposed to be servicing my relatives?"
I had been so caught up in the scene of a monster's party that I forgot entirely that I had been given an order.
I knew how Krin, Kara, and Kisara acted around one another, but to see a group this large socialize was closer to watching a pack of animals fight. I understood how the blood came to be splattered across his home. The monsters, although related, attacked each other in what I assumed was supposed to be a playful manner. The actions often broke through their flesh, creating new stains.
But I dipped my chin gently in response to the Slaver. I didn't mind the part of his command that required me to leave the sea of beasts. Being in the kitchen with Mokuba, even if only a moment, might give me the strength I needed to reenter the unconventional party.
It took a minute to ease my way through the Slaver's guests. When I finally was in the kitchen, I closed the door and leaned back on it. My palm immediately rose to press against my forehead while I tried to collect myself. I knew that I could handle this. I had been forced to do far worse things in my life. Reciting one phrase always managed to get me moving, so I began to chant it in my head. Pain in only momentary.
So frequently in the past I reminded myself of that fact. Allowing my actions to be dictated, and especially in a manner that so repulsed me, went against who I was. Aside from my hatred of my adopted father, he had actually dome me a favor by training me not to allow people to push me around. But now I had to shove my training to the recesses of my mind so I could go through with the evening.
"You're doing the 'momentary pain' speech, aren't you?"
I dropped my hand. "You know me well, kiddo."
"What is it like out there?" Mokuba asked. He laid the knife down after his question, but one look at his completed pile let me know that he had not done nearly enough, which is why the Slaver told him multiple times to continue.
"Keep going. Mokuba, I do not think I could properly describe the scene to you. It is nearly terrifying."
"As terrifying as the thought of Joey outscoring you on a test?" Mokuba said this to lighten the mood. He picked up the habit several years ago to combat the rare occasions when I started falling out of my calm demeanor.
"Almost."
"So what are you supposed to be doing?" He asked.
I glanced around the kitchen. "I am not really sure. His directions were incredibly vague."
"What were they?"
"To service his family."
Mokuba started to laugh. "I knew we were dressed like waiters for a reason!"
"You are not the one who has to go back out there," I said.
Mokuba paused to consider. "That's true. So you are the waiter, and I'm like the head chef," he said proudly.
"Sorry kid, you would never make it as a chef, especially not a head chef," I said, pointing to the three boxes he had spent the day working on.
"Shouldn't you be 'servicing' someone?"
"Right," I said.
Since Mokuba hadn't gotten nearly enough of his job done, I knew that I would have to start with the blood. It was about equally disgusting as the slabs of meat I could hear Mokuba chopping.
Looking at the glasses the Slaver had sat out, I was faced with a dilemma.
"Any ideas as to how I am supposed to carry all of this?" I said, hoping Mokuba would have a helpful suggestion.
I could almost feel the burn of a smile coming from behind me, so I turned around. When I saw Mokuba's grin, I had to ask, "What?"
He grin remained plastered on while he brought a tarnished silver disk into view.
"I quit," I stated when I saw the serving tray. "I won't do it."
"You will be fine. This is how real waiters do it."
"Have you forgotten that I'm not a real waiter, and that there are monsters on the other side of that door? Where did you even find that?"
"It was under one of these boxes. I think the Slaver laid it out for you."
"Where does he even come up with these ideas? A party with servers? He is a playing card. How does he even know about this stuff?"
"I have been thinking about just that. The whole thing just feels too human. I just thought it would be more bizarre, you know?"
I nodded. "I'm not using the tray."
"Then how will you carry the cups?" Mokuba asked with his supposed logic.
"With my hands," I stated.
"And carry two at a time? Just use the tray."
I weighed the options. If I were to use the tray, I would feel ridiculous, and likely spill the cups within moments. If I tried to go without the tray, the Slaver might send me back immediately to grab it. Either way, I would be stuck with it.
Without saying anything, I took the tray from Mokuba. I ignored his smug expression as I walked back to the blood vats. I laid the cursed thing aside and began to pour out cups.
I approximated that I would be able to carry around eight to ten at a time. At that rate, I would have to make five or six trips to give one cup to every beast out there. But then again, some of the monsters were in beast form, which meant that they would be unable to use the cups due to a lack of opposable thumbs. I had to assume that some of the monsters would be unable to change forms, like Kuriboh, so I could count them out of my list.
I nearly smiled when I realized how much I was analyzing the situation. I was bringing cups of blood into a room full of blood-thirsty creatures. What could possibly go wrong in that scenario? I thought bitterly.
I finished and stared down at what I had just done. But after looking at the glasses full of blood, I looked away. The only thing that made it somewhat easier was the knowledge that humans would not be drinking the contents of the containers. There were animals in the other room, not people. Even if they looked like humans, it was an illusion.
I set cups on the tray and tested picking it up. My worry was not that it would be too heavy, but unbalanced. The living room had been entirely full when I last was in there. If it still was that crowded, then the tray would be knocked over almost immediately.
After some experimenting, I got to the point where I could hold it in front of me and keep it relatively level.
"You don't want to hold it up above you? I would be really impressed!" Mokuba called out.
"I'm holding it like this," I said, turning around slowly to show him. I held the tray out in front of me with both hands.
"I still think you should do the one-handed thing above your head."
"I think you should stop trying to make this harder for me."
"Maybe you should lighten up before you have a heart attack."
I nearly continued, but I just pushed it aside. The entire thing was pointless and I wasn't in a mood to carry on.
"You do know I'm just trying to make you calm down, right? You never cared when I did it before," Mokuba said. One look at his face revealed what he was really feeling. The sarcasm was a facade. He was just as uncomfortable with our situation as I was.
"Things aren't the same as before."
"I'm trying. I know that we will never be able to go back, but I just feel like if we act like everything is okay, then maybe it will be. And if we could just pret-"
I couldn't let him continue. Before he completely broke down, I laid down the tray and wrapped my arms around him.
"Mokuba, I'm not through fighting to get our lives back. Once you are healthy, we will get out of here, away from all the monsters," I said with every last trace of confidence that I possessed. "This will not be our life."
When I pulled back, Mokuba took a deep breath. He rocked his head forwards and backwards a few times to calm himself down. "I believe you. Now go. If you don't, you might not have a life to change."
"I'll be in and out of here a lot. There are some thirsty beasts out there."
"Good luck," Mokuba said, and yet again picked up his knife to continue working.
I lifted up the tray and rebalanced it. I then walked to the door, pausing to shift the tray around so that I could twist the doorknob.
The party had picked up in the time in which I was gone. More of the Slaver's relatives had arrived in my absence. I could tell that some of the monsters had done as the Slaver requested and transitioned to the backyard. The distribution seemed almost even between the two locations. Most of the human beasts remained in doors while those who couldn't change went outdoors.
Their split made my task much simpler. Not only had the numbers thinned out some, but I now could stay inside and give glasses to those who were able to hold them.
A few of the monsters had been standing beside the kitchen entrance, and they grabbed cups without so much as looking in my direction. Two more steps in and the tray was emptied. It came as no surprise. I had assumed that the first serving would be short.
I went back into the kitchen to grab more of the cups I had already filled. This time, I felt more comfortable with the tray, so I made the number of cups an even ten.
"That was fast," Mokuba stated.
"The reason why real parties have more that one server," I explained.
And again I left the kitchen. The precess repeated several more times. With every round, I noticed that more and more cups were piling up on the floors around the room. Many of them had yet to be emptied when they were cast down, further ruining the carpets. That only concerned me because I didn't want the Slaver to get the idea that I needed to clean it.
By the time half of the room had drinks, I reached the Slaver. He and three other monsters were speaking as I came up with the red beverages. They took the remaining four cups from me, and I turned to get more.
But the Slaver stopped me. "Cousins, this is my new slave."
Hands appeared to spin me until I faced them again. I stared at the Slaver while the three monsters examined me. One of them tried to grab hold of my face, but I leaned out of his grasp. My eyes stayed locked with the Slaver.
"He is very different from the others," one of them said.
"The others did not last," the Slaver said. "I am searching for different."
"And he doesn't seem afraid of you," another said.
"I only acquired possession of him yesterday. He will learn shortly enough."
"Is he always this silent?" the last asked.
"Yes. He does not speak."
The two of the monsters that I could see in my peripheral vision smiled.
"So you could say or do anything to him and he won't respond to it?" the same beast as before said.
I did not get a positive feeling about where this conversation was leading to. I wanted to go back to the safety of the kitchen, but two of the monsters took side steps to place themselves partially behind me.
"In theory. I have yet to find an opportunity to test him."
I broke contact with the Slaver when I noticed it. The cup in the hand of the monster I could still see moved slightly higher, and I knew what was coming. I glanced down to see the positions of the feet surrounding me. There was nowhere to run.
"So, if we were to do this-"
I didn't pay attention to the speaker. I bowed my head and squeezed my eyes and mouth closed just before I felt it hit me. From all sides, the blood I had just served splattered against my body. The demon in front of me had thrown the contents of his cup directly in the direction of my face, soaking my hair and skin.
"-will he react?"
I breathed our heavily through my nose to try to break through the stream of blood pouring down my face. I placed the tray under an arm so that I would be able to bring both hands up to wipe some of the blood away from my eyes. I used both my fingers and the backs of my hands before I opened my eyes.
Everyone near enough to see what happened was watching, waiting for my response. The anticipation was thick around me. The monsters wanted a show.
I wanted to give them one. I wanted to take the tray and use it to decapitate the beasts who had drenched me in blood. After I did that, I would make the Slaver drink the blood from his relatives' heads, since he was so fond of the liquid. I wanted them all dead, even the ones who hadn't taken part in trying to break me. Once they were dead, I wanted to take Mokuba far away and become a vegetarian.
But just thinking of Mokuba reminded me of my situation. I couldn't do anything, not now at least. I was a slave. I would stay calm and quiet for Mokuba. Any form of retaliation would get me killed. I would not let him be alone in this new world.
The Slaver was watching me, smiling as his head leaned to the side. I bit down on my tongue to distract my anger long enough that I could give the Slaver a small nod.
His grin grew brighter as he realized that I was giving in to him. With a shooing hand gesture, he dismissed me.
I had to push my way through the monsters who chose not to move aside. They laughed at my condition, making me grow more angry. I took deep breaths until I was back inside the kitchen, where I immediately went to the sink.
"Seto, did you spill it?"
I stuck my head down under the faucet and turned the water on. Scrubbing at my face, I tried to force my anger away. I was shaking. My hands were clenching into fists, which made washing off difficult.
Even once the water rolling off my head ran clear, I stayed under a while longer. The feeling of blood on my skin refused to leave me. I felt disgusting.
When I finally leaned up, the state of my shirt caught my eye. The once-white shirt stuck to my chest. There would be no saving the shirt. It wasn't as though I cared about it, but I had little faith the Slaver would give me a clean one. Wearing the blood covered one for much longer might cause me to lose control.
"Mokuba, I need you to calm me down," I said slowly.
He needed no reason. "I cut my finger, but I can't get to the sink to wash it."
"How badly is it cut?" I asked. I walked over and pulled the knife away from Mokuba to examine both of his hands. I found the cut and held it closer to my face so that I could see how deep it was.
"I don't think it was too bad. It clotted a few minutes ago," Mokuba said.
"It still needs to be washed. Who knows what kind of germs are in this room and on the meat?"
I went over to the glasses and found one that I hadn't filled with blood. I took it to the sink and rinsed it out thoroughly, then filled it with water. There was no soap, which meant we wouldn't really be able to clean it out.
It was halfway through trying to sanitize my brother's hand that I remembered that I was covered in blood. My concern for Mokuba's well-being had been the perfect distraction.
"Thank you."
Mokuba smiled. "I figured that I could awaken your motherly instincts."
"Motherly?" I questioned.
"Seto, I will probably never walk again and you are worrying over a small nick on my finger."
"Fine, then you can finish washing your own hand," I said, dropping Mokuba's hand.
"Good. Now while I do this, you tell me what happened."
I turned around and leaned back on the island beside him. I crossed my arms and watched him work while I spoke. "They were trying to get me to talk."
"So they knocked your tray over?" Mokuba asked.
"No, they took their glasses and poured it on me."
Mokuba looked up at me in shock. "And you said nothing? What happened to my real brother?"
"Like I said, nothing is really the same anymore. I think I've changed during all this."
"Clearly," Mokuba murmured. He then shook his head with a laugh, but didn't say what brought it on.
"What's funny?"
"I just tried to imagine what would have happened if someone poured coffee on you back at KaibaCorp."
"Fired, blacklisted, and on the streets," I answered.
"And you just walked away from this one? That just won't do," Mokuba said.
"You wanted to me do something about it?" I asked.
"I want you to go out there now and do something about it," Mokuba said. "Otherwise, I am going to start thinking less of you."
I raised my eyebrows. "Oh really?"
"Yes. Go be Seto Kaiba, would you?"
The Slaver's voice drifted into the room from the adjoining one. Mokuba and I both stopped talking to listen.
"If you would, proceed to the back. Our entertainment is about to begin!"
"What do you think it is?" Mokuba asked. "I am going to bet against it being a band."
"I'm going to find out," I said. I pushed myself into a standing position and grabbed the tray again. I didn't bother filling it up as I had the times before. I just placed a few glasses on the top to give the appearance that I was actually doing as I was told.
"I will be back shortly," I said just before leaving the room.
Nearly no monsters were left in the living room. The few that were seemed to be unconscious on the floor, covered in their own blood. I walked by them to the back door that stood open.
The swarm of monsters seemed to be around the metal device which I had been unable to identify earlier. From where I stood, I could not see what it was that they were doing with it. But that had to be their entertainment, and I had to know what it was that monsters did for amusement.
I walked around the edges of the crowd going unnoticed. The only time in which I drew any attention was when I stumbled over a built in sprinkler that was hidden by the uncut grass. But even then, only a few beasts looked, and they quickly went back to the device.
Since no one was looking at me, I put the tray down in the corner of the yard beside the shed. From there, I used the wooden beams supporting the fence to climb up to where I could see over the heads of the monsters.
The fire had been lit. Hanging above the fire was a cage suspended on the metal contraption. The cage was large, large enough to hold the girl inside.
She had climbed the sides of the cage to get further away from the fire. Even from a distance, I could see her panic. Her mouth was moving, most likely in a vain attempt to beg the monsters around her. Her fingers clutched the metal bars of the cage to hold herself up, and her bare feet were trying to find a hole to support her.
The monsters around the cage were all cheering. Several tried to shake her off the edges to where the flames would burn at her feet. They clawed at her hands, but she held on tightly.
As if that all wasn't a terrible enough sight, my breath caught in my throat the moment I saw her.
The girl was Tea.
I didn't know how they found her, or what the purpose of torturing her was. What I did know was that I had to get her out. I couldn't do anything about them drenching me in blood, but I could help her. I had to help her.
I dropped from the fence once I decided that I couldn't take anymore of the sight. I needed an idea to help her escape. But out here with all the noise from the monsters, I couldn't focus.
I ran back to the backdoor. Right as I reached it, I heard the Slaver's voice above all the rest. "The game goes as usual! If the girl can survive the heat for an hour, she goes free!"
There was no possible way she would make it that long. Eventually, she would lose her grip at the higher portions of the cage and fall to the base. By now, the temperature of the metal bars would be hot enough to burn her body. She would be cooked alive in that cage.
"Mokuba!" I called once in the kitchen, not bothering to stay quiet. He looked up at me and asked, "What was it?"
"They have Tea in a cage over a fire. They are going to leave her in there until she burns to death," I said quickly.
"You have to do something," Mokuba said.
"I don't know what I can do. The entire swarm of monsters is surrounding her. Even if I could get close, I wouldn't be able to get her out. Help me think of something."
Mokuba put his elbows on the counter top and buried his face in his hands. While he thought, I began to pace back and forth to think of something, anything that might possibly work.
"First thing is clearing out the backyard. What can you use to get rid of the monsters?"
I began processing everything I had seen around the house and in the backyard. I ran through the day's events in my mind to try and figure out what could be used to empty the yard. Nothing in the bedroom, nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the living room. What was in the backyard? I recalled all the time I had spent out there. I went through the memories of cleaning it out, and just the few minutes prior when I had seen Tea.
"Sprinklers," I said. "The yard has them built in."
Mokuba pulled his hands away from his face. "Okay, but that isn't enough. They might not care about a bit of water."
"There is nothing else."
Mokuba looked around the kitchen. He seemed to have an idea when he looked at the stove.
"Does that work?" He asked.
I ran over to it and turned the knob to turn on the stove top. The red light came on, signaling that it did work.
"Find something flammable," Mokuba directed.
"You want me to burn down the house?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, I want you to set something in the living room on fire. Make it something that they will be able to see from outside. Then once the sprinklers come on, the few that come inside will call in the others to put out the fire. Now go!"
I jerked open the doors on all the cupboards. Most of them sat empty, and the few that did have something inside were useless to me.
I turned around to tell Mokuba that I found nothing, but then I saw all the boxes. They were cardboard, and that would burn easily.
"Where is an empty box?" I asked.
Mokuba leaned down and slid the one next to his feet over to me. I grabbed it and tore it apart on my way back to the oven. I took the pieces that weren't damp with meat juices and held them against the eye I had turned on.
My foot tapped nervously while I waited for it to catch fire. Enough time hadn't passed for it to heat up fully, and every second in here was another that might lead to Tea's death.
When it began to smoke, I prepared to run back out to the living room. My heart was pounding loud enough that it echoed inside my head as a constant reminder that I was in a rush. I couldn't slow down, not even in my thoughts. My adrenaline was in high effect, making the world around me seem to be moving in slow motion.
Flames burst out onto the cardboard. I jumped slightly in reaction, but immediately sprinted for the door. I only stopped long enough to tell Mokuba, "If flames start coming in here, get out. I don't care how. Don't die."
"Go!" He shouted and I obeyed.
The monsters in the living room were still unconscious, so there would be no one to stop me from burning something. The only thing in the room I thought would work was the couch, so I held the flames against its surface until the fire spread to the fabric. Then without wasting a second, I ran out the front door.
I considered setting the door on fire, but I needed the monsters to be able to get out. But when they got out, I wanted another problem to face them. There were bushing lining the walls of the house, so I set them on fire as well. Then the mail box. And for good measure, I threw the fire I had been carrying on the ground, hoping that that too would erupt in flames.
I moved as quickly as I could through the house and to the backyard. The fire on the couch hadn't quite taken over yet, and I silently urged it on. I didn't have time to help it on anymore.
Again, none of the monsters focused on me. So that left me free to walk along the edges of the house looking for the sprinkler system. There had to be a way to flip them all on manually.
It was dark, so I relied heavily on my hands to feel for the box. When I finally came to it, I ran my hands over the surface looking for a way to open it. I found the latch and pulled the cover off entirely. I moved closer to it so that I could see the button and switches. I couldn't read the labels, so I flipped and pressed all of them.
It worked. All of the sprinklers embedded into the ground immediately came to life. The monsters' reactions were more delayed. But once the water began to break up their group, confusion broke out. They started in every direction. Some looked for the source of the water while others ran indoors to get away from it. Several stayed at the cage to continue in their entertainment.
I couldn't stay still. Eventually, they would find me standing near the box and discover what happened. So I went back to the shed where I had left the tray. That at least would give me some cover while I waited for the crowd to thin out enough for me to get to Tea.
Then the thought came to me that the cage was probably locked. Without a key, all I had just done would be for nothing. I had to find something to break the lock.
I walked inside the shed. Luckily, the Slaver never bothered emptying it. I felt around for anything that might work, and the first thing I came across was a shovel. With the proper amount of force, the lock could break off. It would be noisy, but maybe if the monsters were distracted inside, they would forget about the girl in the cage.
I slipped back into the yard holding the shovel in my hands. The numbers of monsters had certainly decreased, but there were still too many to get through. I waited impatiently to see if my plan had worked.
"Fire!" Came a cry from inside. Heads turned to the house, and the monsters began to rush back inside. Screams were coming from the house, and I hoped that they had begun to try to leave, only to find the fires in the front yard.
I moved along the boundaries of the yard to try to get behind the wave of monsters leaving the area. The sprinklers hadn't been turned off, but I could see that several had been pulled from the ground. Water still gushed from the places where the sprinkler heads once were. But even with all the water flowing through the yard, the fire underneath Tea was still burning.
I couldn't wait any longer. I ran over to the cage, not taking the time to glance inside the house.
"Kaiba?" Tea said.
I didn't answer her. I took the shovel and slammed the blade against the lock to no avail.
"Please hurry, I can't do this much longer," she said.
I held back a sharp response about her not needing to tell me to hurry. Instead, I repeated the action of hitting the lock. Again, nothing happened.
"They just grabbed me off the street. I was getting groceries and I think it was the Flame Swordsmen who grabbed me. Then he took me to the one with the tall hat-"
I stopped hitting the lock. I glared up at Tea and said, "Be quiet."
She closed her mouth and I swung at the lock again. I knew that with every hit, I was shaking the cage, threatening to knock her down, but I couldn't stop. I didn't even pause to wipe the water from my eyes. I put everything that I had into the momentum behind each swing.
I realized that I was getting nowhere. Within moments, someone would see or hear me out here. But I couldn't get up the strength to swing any harder, and having blisters covering my hands didn't make it any easier.
"Why are you covered with blood?" She asked.
And then my anger resurfaced. I swung with all my fury towards the Slaver for kidnapping my brother and I, and for killing the doctor. I swung for his so-called relatives pouring blood on me. All of the events that had happened over the past week came to the forefront of my thoughts, and the end of the shovel collided with everything I had.
The door opened.
"They just saw you," Tea said.
I pulled the door further open, ignoring the burns appearing on my hands. Tea quickly jumped out the door and to the ground. She was shaky, but I didn't give her time to rest.
"Come with me," I said.
We both ran to the nearest edge of the yard. I helped her climb the fence as I had done earlier, pushing her upwards until she was over the top.
"Run!" I shouted.
I needed to make sure the flames hadn't gotten to Mokuba, so I turned to run back to the house. I spun around just in time to see the head of the shovel swinging towards my face.
Phew. That was a long chapter. Let me know what you think!
-What's on my blog- I have my discussion about the chapter, along with the list of favourite quotes from the whole story. I also put up the results from the POV poll.