I can't tell whether or not I should be disturbed with the fact that I am already becoming accustomed to the thrill of temporary flight over chasms and into situations that could kill me. When my feet leave the floor of the train car and I am freely flying to the top of the buildings, there is sense of pure euphoria at the sheer gamble of my making it to the other side. And I can't quite place where this recklessness came from, having come from such a tame background, though I guess some could argue that living with the biggest threat to your life isn't really tame. Maybe, in some weird twist of fate, Marcus has trained me for Dauntless every day since he lost his oldest child. The day I became an only child was the day I started to grow into something even he couldn't control.
When my feet hit the building, I lean forward and let my feet continue forward to keep my knees from buckling with the impact, though they scream from having to face the same sort of abuse twice in a fairly short amount of time. But I guess I have faced abuse for quite a while, so really this isn't so different.
Where is this coming from? Now isn't the time for this introspective form of bitterness. I shake my head slightly, hoping that maybe somehow that will knock the thoughts from my mind. Glancing around, I can see more people making their way around the roof including some of the other initiates. A scream tears through the quiet commotion behind me. Turning, I see a girl leaning over the edge, a hand over her mouth muffling that vile shriek that comes with a sudden and unexpected loss.
So not everyone makes it then.
A flash of grey in the corner of my eye draws my attention and I notice the other Abnegation transfer made it. I can't remember if I saw her on the train before. That Candor boy had distracted me with his taunts and I hadn't thought to pay better attention to what was happening. A lapse of judgement on my part I suppose. Beatrice is her name. Her Father works with Marcus and she has a brother. How old was he? The Priors weren't a threat to Father, and they had nothing to offer him and so they meant nothing to Marcus. She is small, unimposing. The shock is clear in her eyes as she makes no attempt to hide her thoughts. She'll be eaten alive or learn to eat those around her, that's what comes with starting at the bottom.
I run a hand through my hair, fingers catching at the start of the plait, as I realize that yet again, my thoughts are trailing into territory that they have no place to be in. What happens to Beatrice Prior is none of my business. I have better things to worry about. Instead I make my way towards the front of the crowd. I am in the midst of the crowd when I hear a mocking jeer behind me. I can't quite make out what is said but I recognize the voice already. Pausing my approach to turn around, I look to the Candor boy but see his attention trained on Beatrice. I glance at her and see her looking at a graze on her arms, but her cheeks begin to flush. Good to know that Candor boy is falling into the roll of bully so easily.
"Listen up!" I turn to the edge opposite where the train was and see what can only be described as an imposing man standing on the edge. "My name is Max and I am a leader of Dauntless!" He is yelling to be heard over the high winds. He seems perfectly comfortable standing on the edge of the roof, hands behind his back and for a second, he reminds me of Father and his need to look important. The difference is that Max has the haunted and cold look of a man who has seen enough to demand respect. He is someone who fought for the position he has, and he makes it clear without a single word that he will take down anyone who tries to take what he views as rightfully his.
"The entrance to the compound is down there," he gestures to the space beyond the ledge, "and if you want to enter the compound, you have to get to it."
A girl to the side, an Erudite transfer, shouts out an exclamation but I miss it. I choose to focus on Max, trying to read anything I can from him. A lot can be learned about a people by watching the ones who lead them. He is amused and it is clear in his face. These people feed on the fear and shock of others. They will go out of their way to put people into positions where their power is stripped away and where they will face their own worst fears. Sadists, fantastic.
The crowd parts, leaving a path for the initiates to approach the ledge. I glance around to gauge the others' reactions, noting the varying reactions. Some, like the Erudite girl, are openly terrified. Others like the Candor boy are putting up the façade of nonchalance. As I continue to scan, I notice Beatrice doing the same and when we look at each other, I can't help but notice that there is nothing in her eyes except pride and determination. Fascinating, maybe she isn't at the bottom after all. She looks away first, walking out from the collection of initiates to make her way to the front. Max steps down, watching her every movement with a sort of blend of surprise and amusement still clear. That's a man with nothing and everything to hide. A man to avoid, but also a man to watch.
Beatrice begins to strip off her outer garment and bundle it up. Why she would make an action so bold in front of people who clearly want to watch us squirm is beyond me. Bold actions are what make you a quick target among people like this. Though I guess maybe that is the goal. If she isn't picked off, she'll stand out. She throws the bundle at the Candor boy and hits her mark. So at least she has aim. The crowd is enjoying the show, and a part of me wonders if that is all this is. This isn't really a test, this is just some entertainment.
She steps onto the ledge and pauses for a moment and I can feel the other initiates hold their breath, waiting. As she leaps, some of the others let out a gasp. The rest are silent and quite frankly, I'm not sure when I started to hold my breath, but I make sure to be mindful of how I breathe back out, making sure that it is steady. I spent too long hiding my every move to let these people pick me apart now.
It doesn't take long for another initiate to follow after Beatrice's example, a Candor girl. She is less dramatic about her jump, but the moment her feet leave solid ground she screams and we can hear it all the way down. The crowd of transfers still seem unsure, regardless of the two who already leapt. Glancing around the crowd again, I can't help but sigh and begin to walk. I risk a glance at Max as I approach, but as I get closer I notice there is a subtle guardedness to his eyes. I hold his gaze until I reach the ledge. I don't take the time to think about the actions, instead choosing to jump the moment I get atop the ledge, twisting my body as my feet push off the ground, allowing me to fall with my face towards the sky.
The sensation of falling is exhilarating but absolutely terrifying. I watch the sky quickly shrink and my surroundings become darker. I don't hear anything past the roaring in my ears. My eyes sting as they begin to dry and I try and focus on the discomfort instead of thinking about what could lay behind me. Maybe it is cowardice that compelled me to jump with my back to the ground. I didn't want to see the ground racing toward me as I free-fall to what could be my death. Or maybe I just wanted to watch the sky run away, embrace the unknown fully and without any ideas. My stomach is lurching and I feel the urge to vomit for a moment when I feel something hit my back, but I continue down slightly before being pulled back up. I feel around myself and realize that it was a net, hanging several feet above the ground to catch us. I let out a few gasps, trying to run a hand through my hair again and like before, finding my fingers caught in the beginnings of the plaits, the last real physical reminder of the life that I chose to leave behind. The only real act of kindness my Father ever gave.
A hand reaches towards me and I look up, noting more hands. I take the first one and shift myself to the edge of the net, throwing my feet over first so I can stand. When I feel steady I straighten up and look at the person attached to the hands that helped me out. Her piercings catch what little light there is and I can't help but find myself already liking the way they look. She has a kind smile and the laugh that seemingly tears out of her mouth is a nice break from the tension up above.
"Two Stiffs? And both among the first to jump? Unbelievable." She grips my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I can feel someone else staring and so I turn to look. The first thing I see are the eyes, and I really wish I had noticed anything else.
The blue that I see sends me spiraling almost instantly. It's dark already, but suddenly all the lights are gone and I am sitting alone in the closet. I blink and then I see a belt and hear a quiet voice, condescending. Then I see hands roaming. I hear a voice far too close to my ear. I can feel the breaths on my ear and the side of my face. I can't bring myself to move. I can't bring myself to breath. I can't escape. I feel sick and cold and I am sweating and-
The hand that grabs my shoulder again startles me and I turn quickly, knocking it away without thinking. The woman's eye brows go up and the movement catches my attention and I am aware of where I am in a faction of a breath.
"Are you okay?" The reality of what just happened leaves me panting and I have to take a moment to collect myself before I start to try and apologize, but a voice speaks before I get the chance.
"Kathleen?" I can't quite stop myself from straightening immediately. It's too close to Marcus, but different enough that I can distinguish who it is this time. But the echoes of the monster are enough to set me on edge. I choose to try and ignore him and look at the woman, her concern clear as she glances over my shoulder to look at the source of my obvious panic.
"I'm sorry, I'm fine. I was just startled." Her attention returns to me, her concern still clear and there is a sense of skepticism there. A hand is at my shoulder again and the woman looks up and looks like she is about to protest but something stops her. I close my eyes for a moment before allowing myself to be turned. This time I am more careful and make sure to look lower. When I open my eyes this time, I focus on the other features that still have hints of Marcus but are easier to separate.
It's not Marcus. I'm safe. I am stronger than this. He cannot defeat me this easily.
I force myself to look up into those cursed eyes and while I had prepared myself, there is still a chill that runs down my body and I can feel the hairs on my arms stand. It is the shock in the eyes that allows me to differentiate who they belong to this time. Tobias. My coward brother, who left me behind like a gift on a silver platter to the monster that prowled the halls of our house.
His eyes are racing all across my face as if he is looking for something. Does he see Marcus when he looks in the mirror? Does the same terror fill him when he has to look himself in the eyes? Did he ever regret any of it? Or did he really run away from it all?
The unease that had been twisting in my stomach suddenly rose to my throat. A snarl rests in my mouth, sitting just behind my teeth and I start to open my mouth, unsure of what would ever come out when the woman speaks again, though there is a hesitance in her tone, as if she doesn't quite understand what is happening.
"What's your name? Kathleen?"
I need to get myself under control. I have a new life here. Kathleen Eaton is nothing but a broken effigy that Marcus built to try and grasp what he had already lost. When I look at the woman, I try to tame my expression into something more amiable, an embarrassed turn to the brow and an uncomfortable sort of smile. As much as I may despise it, there were certain skills that Marcus taught me that were useful, deception near the top of the list.
"Just Kat."
She gives a nod and looks at Tobias.
"Four, give the announcement." I only turn slightly and glance at him from the corner of my eyes. He is still fixed in place, as if seeing a ghost and I guess in some ways he is. He blinks a few times before taking a deep breath and stuttering out something and turning to the group behind him.
"New initiate, Kath-" he stops and make a sort of unsure noise before trying again, "Er, Kat!"
The crowd cheers and claps and there is a sort of warmth in the easy acceptance and excitement. The woman grabs my shoulder yet again. Maybe it is a common form of greeting here? When I turn back, she seems more at ease, though there is still some confusion.
"Welcome to Dauntless." The smile that comes is genuine and that seems to comfort her some more.
"Thanks."
I wander to where Beatrice and Christina are standing and we wait for the others to make their way down. It is rather uneventful, the others taking the leap without much fanfare. Tobias - or Four I guess - and the woman help the other initiates off the net as the reach the bottom until the last one finally makes their way down. They then make their way to the front of our little group and begin to walk down a tunnel. They don't tell us to follow out loud, but we do it regardless. The tunnel is sparsely lit and there is a mustiness in the air, the smell of dirt hanging heavy in the air. We continue in this herd for a while before coming to a sudden stop and the woman, whose name I forgot to catch, turns to address us.
She has us separate and takes the Dauntless-born initiates away. That leaves us with Four. When I glance at him, I notice him staring straight back. I quickly look away, not wanting to risk another panic like before. I can't risk that a second time. Instead I survey who remains. There are ten of us, a sort of collage of Erudite, Candor, and Abnegation. No Amity.
Four turns and begins to lead us away. I can hear him speaking but choose to tune it out. While the information is probably important, I can't bring myself to focus on his voice. This may have been a mistake. I can't face this. I was stupid to think that I could just run away like this. I knew he was here, I just didn't think I would have to face him so soon.
"The pit?" One of the Candor girls is laughing at something Tobias – no, I need to remember that isn't Tobias anymore, not really – says. There is an annoyance in the tension of his shoulders. After all these years, the fact that I can still note all his tells leaves a sort of pulling in my chest. I continue to ignore the conversation until we reach a clearing and I am made aware of what they were referring to before. It is a large room of sorts, set into the ground.
It is full of people bustling around and continues up for stories. It is a central hub for the faction, if I had to guess. The movement and life that seems to reach even the farthest "corners" of the room is so different from the stuffy air of Abnegation. Sunlight gently filters down from windows far above us. We are enclosed underground but the windows help to keep the place from feeling too suffocating, though the sheer size of the room certainly helps. I can't see the other side of the room, so I can only imagine how far it really goes.
Four doesn't give us too long to absorb the sight, continuing down a path. I miss the first part of what he says, still too focused on trying to absorb the bustle below. All I hear him say is "Chasm" and "follow", so I continue with the group until we reach yet another aptly named opening. Water rushes to the side in a massive waterfall, the roar almost painful. Four gives a quick warning about not jumping off. As if we really need that. Anyone who thinks they can leap into the torrent and survive shouldn't be near the Chasm anyways.
We continue through an opening into another room, but this time we are met with a room full of people. They applaud and cheer as we enter and it holds that same warmth I felt when I was first introduced to these people. I note the tableware and realize this is the dining hall. There are platters of food at the center of the tables and so when the group breaks, each of us heads to an empty seat. I wait for Four to go to an empty table before heading in the opposite direction, spotting some openings at a table on the other side of the room. When I get to the table, there are a few Dauntless members seated at an adjoining table. As I sit, I notice others join me at the table. The train boy and his cronies sit, along with an Erudite pair, a boy and a girl. I offer the pair a nod as everyone settles. They both return somewhat strained smiles.
"I'm Edward," the boy says, offering a hand. I shake it, noting that his grip is slightly too tight. Could be an intimidation tactic but more likely just a result of his nerves.
"I heard," I turn to the girl and offer my hand, "Myra, right?" Her smile is still uncomfortable but she nods and returns the shake. Her hand is trembling slightly. I turn to the other half of the table and have half a mind to ignore them when I catch the haughtiness in the Candor boy's eyes.
"I don't think I caught your name before Stiff."
"Because you didn't ask." He lets out something like a scoff before extending a hand.
"I'm Peter. Those two," he gestures to his companions, "are Molly and Drew. We're old friends."
I stare down at his hand for a moment and look back up, not taking his hand quite yet. When the irritation flashes across his face I finally allow myself to smile and slowly take his hand and squeeze a bit too tightly. The corners of Peter's eyes tighten slightly, though he tries to hide the wince. He jerks his hand away and turns to Edward and Myra. Molly and Drew just ignore us, talking quietly to each other and watching Peter with a sort of devotion that I can't really see him deserving. We each begin to grab the food in the middle of the table. I examine it for a second before just taking a bite. The taste is strong, full of seasonings that we didn't have in Abnegation. I have to chew slowly and take several sips of water to dampen the flavors.
Doors open and when silence falls over the hall I glance up. A man enters with metal gleaming all over his face and ears. His hair is dark and falls haphazardly around his face. Much like Max earlier, there is a sort of authority that follows him and the way that he glances around the room with a cold sort of calculating glare I realize that he must be another leader. And also like Max, he is not someone that should be underestimated. He is the type to kill someone for the simplest mistake, the sort of fragile authority that leads to a domineering persona. He seems to notice something and begins to make his way to a table. I try to follow his attention and realize he is headed to the table where Beatrice and Four were sitting. The closer the man gets, the tighter I can see Four pull his shoulders and the set of his jaw stiffens. When he sits down, he turns and begins talking to Four. I turn to one of the Dauntless members at the adjacent table.
"Excuse me, who is that?" I nod towards where Eric is still seated.
"That's Eric," the man replies, a sort of admiration lacing his tone and resting in his eyes, "he's one of the leaders."
"Oh, thank you."
Someone else calls out to him and he gets up to go to another table. I continue to watch the aftermath of the conversation, the tension still holding all over Four and when Beatrice seems to ask a question, he snaps. I notice Eric stand again and glance at our table. Shock crosses his features for a second before he hides it with a practiced ease. He makes his way to our table and I can feel my tablemates notice his approach and tense up, sitting up straighter, the Dauntless members included.
"What do we have here? Two Stiffs? You other transfers have easy competition this year." He laughs as he looks to the others. Peter laughs in response, though he doesn't do a good job at hiding his discomfort and nerves. Eric turns back to me and the surprise is back for a flash before vanishing.
"Aren't you Marcus Eaton's girl?" Yet another skill Marcus taught was control over all other fears but him. When I met Eric's gaze, I don't feel anything resembling fear. I've felt true fear and I've stared into the eyes of a predator ready to devour me. Eric is nothing compared to that.
"Marcus Eaton has no children. And I stopped being a Stiff the moment my blood hit those coals. The only thing that makes the competition easy, is any choice to forfeit in a challenge should be easy for them." I can feel the stares of the others and this time the shock on Eric's face is open. He takes a moment to recover. For a moment he almost seems annoyed before he laughs.
"Feisty. I like it. I get the feeling you'll make this year fun to watch. Try not to lose before you get a chance to prove those words right." In an imitation of the smile I saw him wear earlier when talking to Four I let out a quick laugh.
"Oh I won't. That'd be robbing you all of the greatest transfer you've had in a while."
The amusement that dances behind Eric's eyes grows and he laughs again.
"That's quite the attitude there Stiff," Peter says beside me. When I look at him, I can see the hunger for attention and approval clearly, overtaking his fear and intimidation. I open my mouth to retort but my jaw snaps shut, surprised when Eric beats me to it.
"Now now Candor, you heard what she said earlier. You'd be smart not to make yourself her first target." There is still the hints of laughter in his voice. When he looks back at me he offers a quick nod before turning. I can feel Peter seething beside me, but I can't bother to care that much. For once I feel a sense of joy and belonging that I haven't felt in a long time. I have the approval of one of the leaders already. But when I look across the room, I lock eyes with Four and there are so many things that play across those haunting eyes before I see him glance at Eric, who is now climbing atop a table, and turn back to me and mouth, plainly,
"Careful".
At last, Eric has arrived! Thanks again for being patient, I know it took me way too long to finally introduce him, but I wanted a good old build up. I also want to again say that I chose to take some liberties with the plot and some of the dialogue because I don't want to openly plagiarize the original book and so I omitted some pieces of dialogue and I re-worded others so they won't be exactly like the book. If that bothers you, I am really sorry. Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews. They mean the world to me and I really do appreciate it! Until next time, Stay Fierce!
~ChildOfLupus