[ T/W!! — mention and use of drugs in forthcoming chapters]
Damian pov
Saturday = Worst day ever. I go over the checklist in my mind.
□ Get out of my room
□ Socialize
□ Make Ewen and Emile leave our dorm
□ Clean my room
□ Do homework / uncompleted assignments
Dirty laundry lay in an ever-growing heap in the corner of my shared dorm. I shuffle through my graded tests and quizzes, hoping to find one decent enough to present to Father.
89%, 93%, 96%, 97%, 100%, 100%, and another 100%. I sighed. How did Demetrius get 107%? I tossed aside the papers, ink wasted, effort wasted, and opened my wardrobe.
Rummaging through the back of my wardrobe, my finger accidentally poked a sharp corner of something. I cautiously reached for it and lifted a dirtied frame from the cluster.
It was a glass frame, but I couldn't remember where it came from or who it belonged to.
As I examined it closely, I noticed the picture inside featured a girl with unnaturally vibrant hair the colour of caraval.
I didn't recognize her from our class or anywhere else.
Despite this, I continued my search, flinging aside useless machines and old clothes, until I came across a strange cone-shaped device. It was black, with a simple gold pattern on the rim, and the inside was buzzing and crackling with static.
What. The. Hell.
Without a reasonable explanation, my hands started to shake uncontrollably, my body aching the longer I gazed the the foreign device.
My mind raced to find a reasonable explanation. Staring at the device longer only intensified my symptoms — my vision became hazy and black and white flashes started to fill my mind.
A pounding headache wracked me as if the memory was long gone but reviving it could unearth the forgotten memories trapped in a box in my head.
[Flashback]
"Becky has to suffer this ordeal alone, but she's coping." Voices in the halls overstimulate my senses, forcing me to cover my ears. "And Damian sure looks miserable today."
I can't sleep.
I won't sleep.
It feels wrong.
It feels too suffocating, too eerie, too silent.
Maybe it's for the better, cause goodness knows what's spawning in my nightmares. I get out of bed, putting on my dressing gown and a pair of slippers before heading downstairs to raid the pantry.
"Father wouldn't approve of that," Demetrius said from atop the stairs. I winced, the pleasure of my brother's company no more reassuring than if Mother or Jeeves were to be there in his stead.
I sniffed indignantly and resumed my midnight walk to our kitchen when Demetrius placed his hand on my shoulder.
"You've lost it. So I suppose the rumours are true, Damian. Do you have anything to say, tarnishing the Desmond name like you did?"
When did you ever care about me, brother?
[end of flashback]
For the first time in years, I woke to worried faces leaning over me. These people don't seem like nurses; the woman wearing an off-shoulder red jumper and black tights, and the man was in a white button-up. Both looked at me tenderly as if we had encountered each other more than once before.
"Damian, you were mouthing Miss Anya's name out loud, so Becky came over to see if we could do anything for you." I saw them flinch as Anya's name was spoken, but nothing mattered as the past began flooding back in like a river.
Before I sorted out the muddled thoughts, I saw a swish of light pink hair identical to the picture. Instinctively, I careened in her direction, eyes pleading to see her face again, just for a moment.
The girl paused in front of Anya's door, trembling hands lightly resting on the door handle and tearful eyes lowered themselves to the mantelpiece: 🄰🄽🄸🄰'🅂 🅁🄾🄾🄼
"Mom, Dad, it's my old room!" she said as she swung the door open. Sure enough, stuffed animals lined the shelves, the worn chimera sitting on a mountain of plushies. The girl ran her fingers on the bed frame, across the curtains, and on the table edge.
She smiled, somewhat pleased by an unfathomable occurrence that I couldn't comprehend, for there was nothing in particular about this plain and ordinary room that should satisfy one so.
"Mr. Forger, are you certain this is Anya? She's acting very peculiar today." I confided in Loid privately in the safety of his room, but he simply shook his head. "I'll ask for her full name."
A muffled voice behind the door said, "My name's Lily-" We sat up straighter, attentive to the honeyed voice. It went quiet outside.
"Sorry, Lily was my...friend." She whispered, "My name's Anya Forger, don't you remember?"
Loid and I locked eyes, and I could see the hesitation and doubt fading with each passing minute. But as Loid reached the door, I heard the unmistakable word that froze my potential father-in-law.
"Don't you remember, Twilight?"
Third person pov
Anya ran through a mental break down of everything she could use against her opponent. Her object manipulation seemed useless in such a barren arena, although the sand could potentially blind #204 momentarily.
His liquid transmutation could be a problem for her. As she steeled her mental state to prepare to fight, she vowed to herself that she would survive through this.
Anya opened her eyes, lunging towards her opponent.
How times have changed. Where was the sweet and adorable girl we knew?
She lashed out a fist and caught him square in the face, and with a beautifully executed roundhouse kick, made him stagger backwards.
The boy grabbed her arm and attempted to flip her over, only to be shoved back in return. 204 went low, grabbing her ankles and leaving her dangling from his grasp.
Anya planted her hands firmly on the ground and swung her legs, sending her opponent practically flying, attempting an almost successful flip as she landed on her feet. The boy laid on the ground, groaning as Anya staggered back to her feet.
Suddenly, 204 conjured a globe of boiling water previously a metal pole and lobbed it towards Anya. She rolled out of the way, only to see another coming towards her.
[flashback]
"No, Chase! You'll get killed for using your powers!" The lavish lady dropped to the floor, a foaming mouth and bulging eyes, white beads tangled in the nest of hair as she despairingly clawed at her curled hair.
First whip. Second whip. Third whip. Fourth whip. It goes on, the sharp slapping of skin smacking the frayed belt, redness, and welts appearing on Chase's raw back.
The skin was beaten to a pulp, with bloody flesh-like bulbs, and sensitive muscles contracted with each hit.
Anya lashed out, clumsy motions futile against the same two bodyguards that same year she participated in the Freestyle Trial. With one final push, the men in black pushed the girl into the glass cage.
"Such a shame my boy 018 has severe congenital insensitivity. Makes him all the more detached and impassive. 204's powers are perfect for my two little troublemakers..." Earl Arthur said pleasantly.
There is only night inside the crystal cage. The room is coated in damp darkness, and though seems impenetrable, Anya could smell the musk of soggy air from the world outside.
Every so often, someone comes with food, and the experiments allowed a rare few minutes of lantern light. It's almost blinding, and by the time Anya's done squinting, the lights are off and a tray of rotten fish assaults their senses.
She doesn't know how long they've been trapped inside the crystal cage, months, maybe years.
"Do you suppose they will let us out one day?" She murmured to Chase, and slowly he looked back into his mirror image: a gaunt face and skin so ghastly white veins show, otherwise the previous 2nd most successful experiment.
Chase turned his face, tears trickling down his hollow cheeks at the hopeless situation. He answered, a raspy voice all that he could muster, "Only for battles."
[end of flashback]
Snapping her head back, she watched the tightly compacted ball of fizzing liquid pass over her and could feel the intense heat burning into her eyes. She whipped up the sand and sent it towards the boy, getting the grit in his eyes as she gained distance and ran away to recover, furiously blinking as the remnants of heat finally faded away.
Her blood suddenly froze. She fell to her knees, realizing that the boy was controlling her blood flow.
Gasping as her blood flow finally regained balance, Anya saw 204 writhing in pain on the ground. She bared her teeth in a wolf-like manner and began to use her object manipulation as she had never used it before.
The earth below her rumbled as she created platforms, gaining heights beyond her capabilities as the boy lay hopelessly below. A realization that he was trying to dissolve her platforms with water snapped her back to reality.
She jumped off the toppling edge of one, and towards the vulnerable body of the shocked boy, she knew 204 could never block her attack.