Song: Bad Dream by Ruelle
***
"I'm sorry - our lives are up for debate? And I assume we don't get much of a say," my sister pipes, narrowing her eyes.
Everything that has occured over the last few minutes has all been so surreal. First, I learn that the girl I was supposed to kill is my half sister, then my full sister shows back up and I'm not allowed to celebrate, and then suddenly it's my family's fault that so many people are dying and to top it all off, my half sister is the daughter of a crazed maniac.
What a day. Definitely one for the books.
"You're three kids in a small room, defenseless, and surrounded by about twenty armed men ready to kill you at any moment. So in a way, yes you do get a choice - by complying, you save your own lives," Lucas says, clapping his hands together.
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. I'm done being scared, being a coward. It's time to man up a little.
I start by singing that one "I'll Make a Man Out of You" song in my head from that really old movie.
I give Ally a look, an oddly specific look that I hope reads "woman up and don't show him that you're terrified because that's probably exactly what he wants but what he DOESN'T want is for you to be sassy, so do that". She gives me an odd look back, and I'm pretty sure my look just came off as "I'm constipated".
"What exactly are we complying to?" I inquire to Lucas. "You have yet to tell us."
Lucas chuckles. "You have three options, but you all have to-"
"What is it with people giving us - or namely, me - options? For literally everything?" I interject, running a hand through my hair. "It's like you people are too afraid to make your own choices or something."
"As I was saying," Lucas sighs, "the choices are: allow us to terminate you and we will release your family; work for us, unpaid, and we will release your family under the pretense that you are dead; or lastly, allow us to terminate your parents, and we will release all of you."
"Wow," Ally snorts, shaking her head. "What great choices."
Maybe she did understand my look.
"So death, slavery, or suffering," I say, counting all three off on my fingers. "I gotta tell you, that's harder than picking an ice cream flavor - and that's really hard."
Lucas slams his hand down on the table. "What is it with you? You were terrified of me a few minutes ago and now? Nothing."
I shrug nonchalantly, proud of myself for having not winced when he hit the table. "Everything gets old after a while, even your act," I smirk. My sister shoots me a look, but stays silent.
"Charming," he deadpans with a sigh. "The fate of yourselves and your families are in your hands now. So tell me - which is it?"
We all know the obvious answer. We can't let our families die, but we also can't allow ourselves to work for him. The choice is so obvious it may as well be screaming at us. It'll just be a matter of who has the courage to say it.
Ally gives me a sympathetic look before quickly saying, "We'll work for you."
Eleanor and I whip our heads to look at her. "Wait what?" I jolt to sit upright in my chair, shaking the table as I do so. "No, we can't," I argue, turning to Lucas.
