Black Equation - The Hunted Ones

EIGHT

By the time they dragged their bruised bodies back to their assigned sleeping quarters, which Meric discovered to be arranged beside each other, it was nearing midnight. After the physically grueling day they had, both had no more energy left to even open their mouths, not even to bid each other a good night. They silently walked like mutilated zombies to their respective cells.

Meric, who got the worse treatment between the two, and couldn't even properly open his swelling left eye. Not that he was any less athletic than Kreuz; it was that their instructor enjoyed using him as a dummy in his multiple demonstrations of how to incapacitate attackers.

After stumbling over a ridge in the floor, Meric finally managed to enter his room. All he wanted now was to jump back into that seemingly inviting straw bed and have a long, dreamless sleep.

Contrary to expectation, it wasn't the staleness of a dingy room that greeted him. A mouth-watering aroma assaulted his senses, jolting him back to his vigilant self.

Food!

On top of the wooden side table was a tall glass of water and a plate piled with meat and greens, still steaming hot. He suddenly remembered he had never even tasted water the moment training started.

He was torn between disabling hunger and overwhelming weariness. Sleep or food?

Wait...

He looked around with brows furrowed, but he saw no one. He didn't remember seeing anybody other than that scary smiling instructor, as if the entire building and grounds belonged to them alone.

However, a newly-cooked meal magically appeared out of nowhere. Meric could not imagine that lunatic Jules cooking to feed them. Besides, they were just dismissed. Food like this would need to be prepared and cooked for at least half an hour, right?

The question remains: who cooked?

More questions followed. Who delivered it to his room? Another instructor? Another trainee? Why deliberately hide from his sight? Could someone be playing tricks? Would the food be drugged this time?

One could not fault him for being wary. After all, no one sane would readily accept two suspicious teenagers with open arms. From what he'd seen so far, the rule of this world wasn't that warm and kind. Surely, this so-called Creed Family were scheming something. What that was, he couldn't make heads or tails out of it. However, he was sure they were being tightly monitored. If not, the still-hot food would not appear in a so perfectly timed manner.

He tentatively approached the food. Hunger won over sleep. Hot food was something he had not tasted for days.

Suddenly, he felt an incoming attack.

Despite the tiredness of his body, he dodged effortlessly to the right, his movement swift and sure, as if he had been evading deadlier attacks all his life. He rounded up to catch what attacked him. He held a thin, white ankle with a single hand.

The leg belonged to the girl from the cliff, Ophee.

"Nice reflexes," she drawled approvingly. With one leg up, her curvy body nearly pasting against him, her beautiful, lithe form was all for him to admire.

However, that one second hesitation would cost him greatly. She wasn't finished. The moment he touched her ankle, she stiffened every muscle of her torso and lower body, using the momentum to kick him in the gut with her other foot. She nailed him in the middle, but he did not let her go, pulling her with him. They both fell on the floor in awkward angles, with her cursing at his weight.

"Why did you fight back, moron?!"

She kicked him in the shoulder, glaring at the mess he made out of her clothes. He had accidentally ripped a sleeve off her shirt.

Suddenly, her face was pressed on the ground, her arms held behind her in a lock.

Meric growled. "Why did you attack me?"

"Let me go! I was only testing you." She tried to flip him over, but he was heavier than her. Not that there was no way to counter that. However, he reacted accordingly before she could twist away. Executing exactly what Jules taught him earlier, he planted his knee on her back, preventing her from making an offensive move.

"Stay still," he ordered in an eerily calm voice. However, his chest was pounding. She might claim it was a test, but he knew that if he had not avoided that kick, he would be sprawling in pain on the floor. "Who are you really? Did they send you? Where did you bring us? What's with this place? What's with this Family?"

Jules would not answer his questions. He could only try his luck with this girl.

Ophee roared as she tried to push him away. "Let go of me! Let go, you blondie Prince! Bastard! Pervert! Monster! Help!"

Stunned by her words, Meric loosened his grip. She quickly crawled out of his hold, escaping like her life was on the line, but as soon as she faced his way, her lips curled into a sneer. Her body nimbly leaped out of his range like a tigress. Only if one looked closely could they see that there was exhaustion in her eyes.

"What the hell?" Recovering his wits, Meric's angular face was immediately filled with indignation. "I didn't do anything but self-defense. What did you just call me?"

"Oh, but I called you so many names, I don't know which you found most pleasing to your ears." She let out a blooming smile. "I wouldn't really hurt you. You seem to forget my leg is injured."

Meric eyed her legs. She was obviously limping.

"By the way, how's your first day? Congrats for staying alive."

That seemingly harmless smile reminded him of someone. Meric could not help but shiver.

"D-Do you mean people have died here before?"