Art's Conduct

Art's Conduct: Eviscerate =17=

= 17 =

"Duck!"

I do as he says, but he hits me by the cane again. If I moved by just a centimeter, I would have been able to dodge it, but I didn't, and I collapse on the floor for the twentieth time, since I started. Two weeks have not passed, and he expects me to know the basic maneuvers of a professional combat specialist?

He taps my shoulder with his cane as I breathe shallowy on the cold, stone floor. My breath fans out in front of me, and the chilly air is evident from the fog that comes out of my mouth.

Tired and starving - the moment he taps me again, I take the end of the cane and pull it down, only for him to kick me on the side with enough force to have me double over.

I groan, and my breaths grow shallower.

Through my hazy vision, his figure leans down, while shifting his cane across him.

"That was a sweet attempt," he says as his eyes harden. "but we're not here to go against the Wicked Witch of the West. You need to try harder, so get up."

For a second, I do not listen to him, but I know a moment's delay would not be advisable and a moment too soon would result in catatastrophe, so I decide then, getting up with a wince and languidly raising my fists in front of me to form a defensive position. I can practically see him rolling his eyes as I do so, but I do not know what else to do. A crowd formulated hours ago, and they don't plan on moving any time soon, until I pass this test...most likely.

As best as I can, I try to look at him in the eye, but his face cannot seem to stay still, and all I see is the contorted shape of his chin and forehead as he makes the first move, and I instinctively take a step back: a bad move in my part because, in two quick steps, he corners me to the edge of room, trapping me there with that same cane locking me in place.

The tips scratch against the walls' surfaces, and I want to raise my arms up to cover my ears, but his cane prevents me from bending my elbows.

I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut at the noise.

It is silent for a second, not a single person reacts. I have this feeling that they left, but when he speaks through the silence, I know they're all here. 

"Gentlemen, what is the first rule?" he asks - his voice reverberating against the walls and back.

"Never underestimate your enemy," they answer back, almost instantaneously.

There's a pause before he asks, "What is the second rule?"

"Never sympathize with the enemy," they say with the same intensity.

"Third?"

"Use size as leverage,"

He spins around on his heels and walks back towards me, stopping two feet in front of my helpless figure. "And, Ms. Blanc, what's the fourth?"

Until a few days ago, I never knew that I wasn't a Hickerton 'til then. They showed me my birth certificate as proof, and since that wasn't enough information to validate my relations with the Blancs, they took me DNA testing with their somehow acquired DNA, and it turned out positive, and if that wasn't enough, they took a second DNA testing by sending one of his men to manually take a sample of their fingerprint with me bearing witness to it, and the whole process restarted, providing the same results that I am indeed Jhiabett Blanc, daughter of Zhac and Mia Blanc, and they abandoned me when I was  a baby because my grandfather wanted to see me.

Because of his familial desire to see me, they decided it was right to shut me out and send me off to a family that I wasn't even related to? All the tears? They were for a stranger? But, how can I think that way when he was not a stranger at all? If Jordan was a merchant from Turkey, then I can understand the fact that he was a stranger, but he wasn't, and that's the thing. He isn't just some random stranger a million miles across the world. I saw him as a brother, and even if we weren't blood-related, he was and will always be my baby brother. Not even the Blanc name can change that, and that isn't even relevant now. 

They left me.

And, the fact that I almost went out of mind trying to impress a father that isn't even my father? How can people live without knowing what their child is doing after they've left them?

I stare up at him with the answer ready at my tongue. "Never get backed up to a corner."

He gives me a look of approval and taps my forehead twice, searching for something in my eyes. The inspection is brief before he turns and addresses the audience.

"Do you see what I mean when I told you all to adhere to my rules?" he asks, staring directly at every member, including Borios and Matthias. "If you don't listen, success will not be in any of your hands, so STOP SLACKING OFF AND GET BACK TO WORK! It is understandable that she is new and the only woman in our unit, but that doesn't mean you all have to treat her like a circus act!"

I see Borios shift in the corner of my eye, and he immediatelys moves to the center, feet away from Victor, which I later learn is the cripple's name. Borios's shoulders draw back as I see him take in a deep breath. "Didn't you hear him?! Move!"

It isn't much force and far from Victor's mechanics, but the result is immediate. Everyone forms a line and rushes out in a unit. I suppose everyone leaves, until the tail end reveals the figure of Matthias. 

It's silent and no one dares to break it, not even Victor as he exits by himself, quickly followed by Borios who gives Matthias a look before leaving the room.

With the attention solely on the two of us, mine focuses on him as he crosses and uncrosses his arms. Then, crosses them again before uncrossing them as if he's making a vital decision at this time, yet I stand there pinned against the corner, waiting patiently, even though I feel nausea seeping in, but I do not say anything.

It's not until hunger hits me like an avalanche that I begin to show signs of defeat, and I let out an inevitable groan.

That's when he decides to take the initiative and walks towards me.

With one motion, he takes the cane and pulls on it, releasing me from my bonds.

I slack against the wall for a second, until a piece of candy comes into my line of vision.

"Take it," he says. "I'll go get you some food."

I don't say anything. My attention is all on the wrapper as I rip it open and gobble on the sugary goodness. I do not notice him leave, until I look around and the room is empty.

I shiver and try to find the way out, following his footsteps and running towards it. When I'm near him, I grab on to his jacket, startling him.

He tries to shrug me off, but I don't let go.

"Blanc, let go," he says gruffly, but I don't. If any, my hold only tightens. "I said let go!"

With one shove, he pushes me, and I hit the wall opposite him.

"If you were going to act like this," he sneers. "then you shouldn't have gone with us. You should have declined it!"

But, his yelling doesn't go by me, and it gives me more of a reason to hold on.

"Blan- oh my god, Blanc, let go!"

But, I don't move a muscle. I allow him to push me around, but he isn't the type of person who worships patience and with another shove, I hit the wall again. He hits me with enough force that it propels me backwards at a dangerous speed, and when I finally come in contact with its surface, one probable bruise arises, but he completely ignores it.

"Forget it," he says, glaring at me. "You can go get the food yourself."