Second Wind

Chapter 10: ...One Will See that the Abyss Gazes Into Them

AN: Multimedia is Wraith.

***

Pain pounded in my head to the beat of my heart, like that of an internal, infernal marching drum. I was unconscious, but it didn't provide a recess from the pain.

I had never been knocked out before. I suddenly felt a guilty pain about knocking so many other people out. It was not a pleasant experience.

***

I finally came to in a room that I didn't recognise. I was laying on a bed that was actually comfortable, unlike the other beds in Deadlock. I groaned, which only caused the pain in my head to double. I rubbed my head, pinching the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb. This did not mollify the pain.

I sat up slowly, propping myself up on my elbows. I squinted into the bright lights that were shining in my face. I grunted and rubbed at my eyes, trying to soothe them.

"I see you've come to," said an unfamiliar voice. I started at it and looked towards the sound of the voice. Sitting backwards on a chair, was the most attractive guy I have ever seen in my life.

His hair was jet black and was slicked up in a quiff. The planes of his face were straight and angular and the boy had a strong, chiselled jawline. He was wearing a black t shirt which his muscular arms and pecs swelled against. He was free of any tattoos and piercings, but scars criss-crossed his arms. A scar marred his lips, but other than that his face was flawless.

I was studying him when I saw what I had seen before I had blacked out. A pair of cold and vicious black eyes. And not the iris was black, no! The sclera as well as the irises were a deep, obsidian colour.

I start in the bed I was in again, the last shreds of grogginess gone. "Christos," I muttered, loud enough for him to hear. When he didn't flinch in pain, I was reassured that he wasn't a demon straight out of Supernatural.

"I get that more than you'd think," he told me, his voice deep and menacing. "The black eyes throw everybody off." I bared my teeth as I pushed myself up off the bed in a fit of sudden anger.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! C'mon, Vyper. Let's not be hasty," the boy growled. I began to walk towards him, my fist clenched and ready to be thrown. The guy stood up from the chair, and stopped me in my tracks. He must have been at least six foot six. Despite my best efforts to appear not to be, I was cowed into silence.

"Don't try and fight me. I'll kick your ass," he told me, deathly quiet. Those black eyes narrowed to emphasise his point. My fist unclenched unwillingly, my blood boiling at the thought of knocking his pearly white teeth down his throat.

"Why the hell am I even here?" I asked warily, my eyes flicking about to take in everything. It was carpeted, the floor, with rather soothing cream coloured walls that weren't marked up with blood and graffiti.

"I need to tell you something, Vyper. And you need to listen real good," the boy started. I gave him a look and raised an eyebrow. I made a sarcastic gesture for him to continue.

"I like you. You're funny... Too bad we can't be friends."

I glared at him in sudden anger. What the hell did he think he was doing, acting like he was so high and mighty? "Too bad I don't want to be friends," I retorted. There was a smirk on the boy's face, but it suddenly disappeared.

"Name's Wraith, and I don't want you winning any more fights, Vyper," he started. "I'm not gonna lie, if you get better you'll rival me, and to keep the Banes under control, well... If you act as alpha, you need to be an alpha. You need strength and undeniable power. If you rival me, I won't have that anymore, and I don't want that. So to keep you from being a true enemy of mine, stop winning fights and stop rising ranks."

I couldn't believe what this guy, Wraith, was telling me. He was basically ordering me to give up my winning streak, to give up what I wanted. "Hell no!" I shouted, taking several steps towards Wraith.

In a flash, Wraith's hand was wrapped around my neck and lifting me up. Let me tell you what, being picked up with a vice-like hand around your neck doesn't feel good. It hurts like a bitch. He manoeuvred his face close to mine, making me meet his eyes.

Those deep, cold, shark-like black eyes.

"You talk to me like that again and your neck won't be the only thing that's bruised," Wraith whispered, his voice deathly calm. "Gak," I said, attempting to be a smartass. It's pretty hard when you can barely breathe.

"Got it?" he hissed.

I struggled to nod my head in an affirmative. "Good," Wraith said, dropping me roughly. I managed not to stumble as I landed on my feet. He glared at me, and I took that as my cue to leave. "Later asshole. See ya around," I told him with my voice dripping sarcasm.

I hurried my pace just in case Wraith decided to come after me. I decided that I was going to be polite and close the door behind me. I got another look into the door, and felt my stomach drop.

Wraith had shrugged on a black varsity jacket with red sleeves. Written in big maroon letters over the back of the jacket, was the word "Renegade".

Angel's explanation suddenly made a lot of sense, and made me feel a deep rooted fear blossom in the pit of my stomach.