DROWN ° tobias eaton

𝒊𝒙. compassion is weakness, not strength

"Everybody stop!" The pierced blonde yelled. Silence filled the room like a stormy cloud, rumbling their breaths into echoes of thunder. Four stood and opened his mouth, but it sealed again. The man motioned toward the wall. "Stand in front of the target."

She could see the fear on Al's face from where she stood, he looked like a deer in front of headlights as he slowly made his way over to the wall in silence.

"Four, give me a hand here," Eric directed, and the brunette man behind him smirked his head tilting to the side as he turned to the dark-skinned boy with a kind of I told you so look. "You're gonna stand there, while he throws those knives," Eric explained to Al. "And if I see you flinch, you're out."

Tara's eyebrows arched slightly. This could be interesting, she thought, but she still wanted to get back into her own training. The annoyance of being horrible at something was infuriating her confidence, and she hated the feeling of it. She wasn't going to get better if she didn't practice, and right now Eric was stopping her from becoming any better.

The knives clinked as Four picked them up from the table, twisting them in his hands. He turned and caught sight of her intimidating stare and brushed it aside as he faced Al.

"Stop," Tris's voice echoed just as Four made himself ready to throw the knife. Everyone looked at her in slight shock. "Anyone can stand in front of a target, it doesn't prove anything."

Eric smiled a patriotic smile. "Then it should be easy for you to take his place."

With the body confidence of an insecure schoolgirl, Tris looked at her feet before heading to the wall to take Al's place. Tara was growing annoyed with the scene playing out in front of her, seeing no purpose in watching Eric test his authority on teenagers. It wasn't like he was much older than they were.

"Same rules apply."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Do I have to watch, or can I get back to my training?" she asked, waving the knife in the air as she met Eric's cold stare.

His head tilted amusingly. "You watch," he said. "Or you take her place."

Tara wasn't that stupid. She chose to stand and watch because she knew that if they were to swap places, it would be Eric who threw the knives and she didn't trust him with the sharp object. There was too much hatred in his eyes. Too much hatred directed toward her.

In a blink of an eye, the knife hit the wooden board outside her figure. The blonde man sighed amusingly and pressed the man to get closer. The second knife hit closer to her head, though still on the wooden frame. Eric's patience was thinning out as he looked at the brunette. "You can get closer than that."

"You want me to give her a little trim?" Four smirked.

"Maybe just a little off the top."

With a nod to his head and a deadly stare directed toward Tris, the next knife landed inches above her head, the impact breaking the plastic. Tara felt her heart skip a beat for a second, her grip tightening around her knife. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lyra start to advance to the Stiff, a panicked expression on her face. But Adrian held her back. Before Tara could register, a loud sound echoed through the facility and she watched the next knife rest against the side of her face, Tris opened her mouth, gasping slightly.

"Points for bravery, Stiff," Eric congratulated. "But not as many as you just lost for opening your mouth." He pointed at her, knife in hand. "Watch yourself. We train soldiers, not rebels."

Tris couldn't take her eyes off the ground, and Tara didn't know if it was out of embarrassment or pain.

"Alright we're done for today, get out."