Sorry for the delay with uploading this chapter. Well, at least it's finally here so... enjoy!
There is a shriek, like an alarm, only it stops very suddenly.
Tris spins around, eyes slowly adjusting in the darkness. She feels ropes snaking around her wrists and tying her to a pillar in the middle of the room. She blinks. And everything changes again. The room is full of light. Now there is a fire. Too bright. Too harsh.
It feels like her skin is actually burning. Shriveling up and falling off of her bones. She has never been burned before. But this is what she has always imagined it would feel like.
Tris whimpers in pain, desperate for the simulation to stop. She can handle anything. Not this.
Hang on a second... simulation. She knows. It's not real. She is in a simulation.
Suddenly the fire doesn't burn as badly. The pain becomes bearable. Until she can't feel it at all. Huh. She is probably in her chair right now, being monitored by Four. No pain. Just a deep deep sleep. And his eyes are everywhere.
She thinks about the ropes burning away into oblivion. She imagines the flames sinking away into the deepest part of her brain. The part she never looks into. In front of her eyes, they vanish. Relief washes over her like a bucket of cold water. She waits... the room darkens... and she waits and waits and waits...
Why isn't she waking up?
The concrete walls around her start to crumble, but her heart rate beats faster than ever. Slow it down... That is the key.
The dust rises from the ground, hitting her in the face. A single cough from her ash filled lungs and she discovers an echo. She coughs again. How strange. But when she thinks about it, nothing is strange at all. The walls fell down. So she is in a bigger place. A place with a glass ceiling. A place with punching bags. It's the training center.
"Tris," her voice is whispered behind her. She turns. Nobody. Just an endless arena. It's too dark to see, "Tris," her name is repeated, the 's' being stretched out. An image of a snake pops into her head. She shudders. She has only ever seen them in text books and one children's book. Curiosity washes over her. Somehow though, she knows this isn't a snake speaking to her.
She turns again and again, always a second too late to see the face of the whisperer. Until a hand touches her shoulder. She turns slowly and there he is. Eric.
Not real. Notrealnotrealnotreal.
Her eyes widen as her heart starts drumming in her chest.
His face is just as she remembered it, only his pores are gone. He looks airbrushed. Too perfect. Like a wax figure. Another reason not to freak out. It is as if the simulation is on her side, reminding her that none of this is real. But why does it feel so real?
"You're out of bounds, initiate," his deep voice bounces off the walls in the fake training center.
Tris steps back slightly, shaking her head as she starts to take deep breaths, "No, no..."
"You need to be punished," his fake smile slithers across his fake face. He raises his fist. And it is as if her body was pushed out of the fake world. She lands in her chair, gasping loudly.
"It's okay, it's okay," Four grips her shoulder, sighing, "You did well."
She gasps until she catches her breath. A quick look around and her fears are gone. Simulation room. A couple of computers on a desk. Four beside her. A faint orange light above. She's safe.
Four walks back over to her computers, casting her a worried look over his shoulder. A crease appears between his eyebrows. He captures his lip with his top teeth. Tris can only imagine how awkward this must be. He was watching the whole thing. Instructors are supposed to be there to observe. Control. Monitor. But not Four. There is an underlying feeling beneath his mask.
"How long do you think you were in that simulation?" he asks, glancing at her as he types something up.
Tris scratches her head in paranoia, "Err... I don't know, an hour?"
"Three minutes," Four turns and leans against the edge of his desk, folding his arms, "I've never seen anyone do so well on their first try."
Tris raises her brows, "I have to do that again?"
"Yeah, you have to practice a few times before the final but... you're a natural. You'll be fine," he smiles only for a second. Then his eyes darken and he turns around, as if remembering an unpleasant memory.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
It is midnight when her bladder decides to wake her up. She lays in bed for a minute longer, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration. If she concentrates hard enough, she could hold it out till morning.
Two minutes pass and she sighs in expiration. She still has to pee. And all the concentration only seemed to make her want to pee even more.
Silently, she gets out of bed, tugging her baggy sweats up as her feet lead her through the maze of sleeping bodies. She passes Christina, almost having a heart attack when she sees her black eyes glistening in the dark.
Where are you going? she mouths.
I have to pee. Tris replies, idly scratching her neck.
Christina smiles in the dark before turning over, muttering something to herself.
Tris exits the dormitory, shivering at the cold air whizzing past her in the corridor. It is brighter here, but the lights still seem a little dim for a civilized area. People pass here all the time.
A sigh escapes her mouth and she carries on walking to the nearest bathroom in Dauntless. She would never use the toilets in the dormitory. Not in front of everyone. Right then, she wonders if this is what Christina was so amused about when she walked past her. Typical Stiff, right?
A smile finds her lips. She is so preoccupied thinking about her friend that she doesn't notice a looming figure at the end of the corridor. Not until she manages to walk right into it.
"Watch it," a familiar voice spits. She stills instantly. She doesn't have to look up. It's Eric. She knows it is, "Oh," his bulging biceps soften as he releases a sigh, "The Stiff."
Slowly, her eyes swim up to his face. But he doesn't seem to be looking at her. He is somewhere else. For a moment, she forgets how he mercilessly beat the crap out of her.
"Sorry," she manages to croak, pushing past him as her bladder urges her to continue walking to the bathroom.
"Initiate," he grips her arm, threatening to leave bruises. She gasps, and he loosens his grip. He really IS somewhere else. What the hell? Where is that predator look? Where is that ruthless grip? Maybe he is just tired. It's past midnight after all.
They lock eye contact.
He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Does he finally realize that he was wrong about his accusations? About her sleeping with Four to get a better ranking? That is if he is on the same page as her. She is still wary about what the problem between his and Four is.
They stand there for a while, him gripping her arm. Tris shielding her face with her other one.
"I have to pee," she blurts out, hoping he would release her. He does.
"Initiate," he repeats, raising his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She freezes, "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have."
Is that the asshole way of saying sorry?
Review and tell me what you think :)