Veins of Smoke and Shadow ✔️ || ONC 2023

14. | Never A Monster |

He didn't notice she was backing him into a corner.

"You're boy-toy wasn't a whole lot of fun to play with," he answered at last, huffing another dramatic sigh. "Sergeant Karras barely spoke and you could barely get a reaction out of the man until certain measures were taken..."

Trace smirked when Faine's eyes flashed with hatred and frustration.

This conversation, much like their circling, was a dance for power. A heated one at that.

"What?" she growled. "Until what?"

"Well, it seemed like the only thing that would get him to talk was you. He couldn't stop threatening me the day I decided to show him what was happening to your mind, your body," he said, a catlike smirk growing on his face. "Let alone when I left him with that projector, forcing him to watch every experiment I performed on you... Man, was he vicious then."

Faine felt her heart drop into her stomach, fighting to keep the air in her lungs.

"Such a shame he's no longer with us," Trace added, tossing a glance to the doors behind her.

The tether she'd been clinging to desperately snapped when those words came out of his mouth. Faine had him backed up far enough and her mind was set. In one swift movement, she launched forward, pinning him into the wall with a force great enough that the impact cracked several stones.

If Leighton was gone, then Faine would make every second of Trace's death the most painful he'd ever lived.

He made a move with the syringe and Faine bucked away, gripping his wrist tightly. Trace struggled against her grasp, attempting to kick her legs out from under her as he'd seen his victim do moments ago.

His efforts were significantly weaker without paranormal strength.

Faine aimed to knee his groin, but his legs locked around hers. Trace threw them down on the floor, dragging himself up over her. He spaced his wait to hold her down, one hand on her throat and both legs digging into her thighs.

He was strong for a human, smirking as he aimed the needle for her neck.

Hooking her elbow inside his arm, Faine threw all of her strength into a blow that sent them rolling on the floor. Trace grimaced with each impact, fighting to stay on top. His grip on the syringe was locked in a death grip, holding onto it like a lifeline.

The stone beneath them felt like cold, lumpy cement with deep grooves. Faine's entire body cried out in pain as the dirt ground into her scars. Through gritted teeth, she was able to breathe through those agonizing reminders.

She had to break the syringe.

Taking a deep breath, Faine pushed off the ground again, disappearing into the shadows as Trace punched his arm out toward her. She slipped between the fabric of space and manifested behind him, using much of her strength to kick him in the soft spot under his ribs.

He crumpled to the floor on his hands and knees, coughing. Still clutching the needle, Trace weakly tried to turn around and defend himself.

"What are you going to do now, Ms. Reilica?" he rasped, his breathing hitched. "What happens if you succeed here today?"

Faine snarled at him, feeling herself dissolve into the madness. "I don't know," she hissed. "What I do know is no one will ever have to hear your name and feel the utter terror of not knowing whether or not you still walk this plane."

Trace gave a sputtered laugh, a few drops of blood leaking out onto the ground. "The worst is still yet to come."

She didn't know when she started kicking him. Black and red filled her vision as she ran her foot into his stomach over and over again, watching him groan and laugh on the floor. Insane. He was insane.