Plus, I sprained my ankle in soccer and can’t do gym or go to track practice. It sucks and I was depressed so I couldn’t find the motivation to write.
Warning: NOT EDITED! It’s 2am and I’m tired and I have school tomorrow so hold it in, you Grammar Nazis and Repetitive Word Freaks!
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My mouth was lost.
No, I didn’t need a map. It was just gone. Why had my conscious brought me here?
I stared numbly at Levi, blinking like a set of dysfunctional Christmas lights. On. Off. On. Off.
I sound retarded now.
“Jess,” he spoke, annoyed.
I cleared my throat and rummaged for the reason I came here. I hardly noticed him advance a step, examining me closely. “I-I think I’m ready,” I blurted.
He frowned and manoeuvred around his desk, dropping into his chair. He flipped through papers and frowned deeper upon some pages. “Ready for what, darling?”
I closed my eyes, took a quick breath and announced, “For my test. I think I’m ready to be a Seducer.” His eyes never left the paper, and for a moment, I thought he hadn’t listened. My teeth nervously grinded. “Levi?”
He paused and looked up. “You think? You think you’re ready?”
I straightened my spine. “No—”
“You said, ‘I think’, darling. Don’t lie.” He avoided my gaze, fondling with the papers again. “You’re not ready.”
Anger bubbled in my chest, fists balling to my side. I swallowed a foul response, and responded coolly, “No. I’m ready. I know I am.”
He picked up a pen and signed a few documents. “You had doubt walking into this room. I don’t accept doubt. You’re not ready and that’s final.”
A flaming sensation flashed across my arm. I scratched it vigorously, stimulated by my outrage. Suppressing the fire never felt so painful. “You’ll never trust me, will you?” He stopped writing. Noting I had pressed a button, I harshly put the icing on the cake, “Will I ever be part of your family?”
That was the lottery winning question. Did he even want me here? I knew the Council wanted some use of me or else I’d be dead. But did he want me here? It pained me to think he didn’t care. Yet it pained me even more to note I actually desired him to care. I had never fallen for someone—not because I was cocky, but because there was no one to fall for. The only boy I chilled with was Isaac, and he was anyone but someone to fall for. He was friend zoned. Being attracted to him would be...incest. Isaac was a loving brother. Levi was... oh. Like those hipsters say, #rookiesonloveproblems. Sometimes I wished I had a boyfriend before so I could have some experience in the romance field.
I studied his hard face, anxiously pending his response. “Well?” I asked again, my tone bitter.
He threw the pen down which made my shoulders stiffen. He looked up, fury sparking across his honey eyes. “Jessie. I want you to be part of my family.”
Those words infected my mind, touching every nerve and freezing it until I numbed. Any consciousness had gone astray. Someone wanted me. They wanted me to belong. I felt light headed.
His face looked stricken and he rose up so fast, he chair fell back. “Jess!” His voice was so harsh, so abrupt I nearly jumped out of my skin. Fear settled in the pit of my stomach for I hadn’t seen him quite stricken. “Stop it!”
My mouth was lost. I remained embedded to the ground as he jumped off his chair, snatched my arm, his grip squeezing a wince past my lips. He called for the emergency nurses, but my mind had disappeared. My eyelids weighed a ton, and I glanced down to see what he was shouting about.
Dark, crusty rashes engulfed my left arm. Nail carvings slashed my skin, blood leaking onto the floor. I sensed the rash spread, attacking my body at terrifying speeds. The itch amplified waves of indescribable irritation that burnt hell into my flesh. People touched my arms. I was floating. Bright lights blurred past my head.
My ringing ears processed the voice in muffles, “Take...care...of...her...”
And then I drowned.
†‡††‡‡
I was drowning.
My eyes shot open and I gasped, water ingesting my throat. I surfaced and coughed, bending over the glass tube. Vomiting the nauseating clear substance, I sat up. My breathing came in shallow gasps, eyes growing hazy before I shook my head.
What was going on...
I slicked my raven hair back and relaxed at the sight of the healing room. A familiar figure stood by another tube, hands together behind him. “The magic of that water is wonderful, isn’t it?” he spoke. I averted my gaze, noting I was naked and mentally thanked him for having his back to me. Anxious, I staggered onto the cool tiles and seized a robe. “You remember anything?” he asked, turning. His face was blank as always, studying my movements.
I tightened the fuzzy belt. “I haven’t had the chance to attempt recalling my memories.”
I hoped he didn’t assume I freaked because of his confession. Which possibility could have been why I broke out. My cheeks flamed and I avoided his eyes.
Not noticing, he walked towards the door and continued, “Would you like to hear what happened?”
Curiosity was a human nature that seemed to weaken the individual, the desire of knowledge hard to resist. “I would like to,” I answered, following after him.
He entered the underground halls, the tunnels busy as usual. “You broke into a terrible rash, and it covered your entire body, head to toe. You couldn’t stop scratching, eventually bleeding and causing serious skin cell damage. The doctors believe it was another side effect of the drug. They believe immediate anxiety triggered the response.”
We quickened our pace up the spiralled staircase, my eagerness strengthening as I observed this new chamber. There was only a handful of Snipers prowling down this underground route, my ears able to hear the water drops and creaking pipes.
I squinted as I talked, the lights dimmer, “How come the side effect is happening now?”
“Perhaps you were never extremely stressed before,” he suggested as we hit a dead end.
That made no sense. Surely I had experienced some form of anxiety during my life. So I drilled my brain for an example. And nothing snagged my interest. Now that I thought of it, I was never stressed. Throughout kindergarten and high school, I had kept my opinions and secrets to myself. I remained a wallflower, my social group consisting of only Isaac. I studied for tests and obeyed the rules. Never slept past curfew, and my nose was constantly buried inside of books instead of people’s business. The teachers didn’t pay much attention to me, and neither did anyone really, including my parents with their long days. There was a warm bed to come home to, fresh food stocked in my fridge, I was financially supported and had loving Aunt Darby, Aunt Klaire, and Uncle Chris. I had Isaac. People who loved me.
I had been living the simple life.
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to sense disappointment or not. Did not experiencing stress made my life plain? Did not encountering obstacles make me human?
For sixteen years, have I even been living life?
The bright side of this situation was that I no longer had the simple life. This was pleasing and disturbing since this situation wasn’t exactly...normal.
Then I wondered why hadn’t the side effect kicked in when I first met Romane? Certainly I was freaking when I ran into him—he nearly killed me!
Levi began to feel around the walls, pressing against the moist bricks. “You have to understand too, that we don’t know the side effects of your drug. We haven’t studied such a...” He paused, choosing his words cautiously. “Rare substance,” he finished.
He wavered over a specific brick and tapped it twice. Placing his ear onto it, he carved his hand through the creases and pulled. The walls moaned and I heard pieces of old cement grinding. Dust fell from the walls and they shifted, the bricks getting pulled back to form an entrance.
“We believe your drug is not fully developed and is still trying to adapt—changing and striving to be a part of your body. Meaning there might be different stages for this process, resulting into unknown side effects.”
“Mhm hm.”
I tried to grasp this information while being in awe at the transformation. The bricks took the formation of a tunnel and for the first time, I hesitated to proceed. Darkness was at the mouth of the tunnel which made my conscious a tad wary. “What is this?” I asked.
He gestured his hand forward, beaming a mischief grin. “My darling, welcome to The Vault.”
‡‡†††
The room shimmered with gold, the walls and tiles gleaming of sunshine coloured riches. My eyes struggled to swallow the glass cases holding intriguing weapons that delivered strange shapes and pointy blades. There must have been a thousand cases, my vision failing to seek the end.
“Only the deserved winners of haja sangue come here,” Levi said and was amusingly fascinated by my gawking.
“How overwhelming,” I breathed. The first weapon absorbed my thoughts and I approached the long dual swords. Silver ribbons and diamond like embroidery twirled around the handles. My fingers danced across the plate name under.
Deus gladii.
“God’s swords,” Levi translated, stepping beside. “These weapons have been here since Snipers started, generations ago.”
Puzzled, I turned and asked, “You didn’t start the Snipers?”
Silent laughter gleamed on his features. “No, no. My father was the past gang leader of Snipers before he died.”
A pang of guilt hit my chest. “I’m sorry.”
He looked straight ahead, a hardened expression across his face. “Don’t be. He died, I took his place. The day was to come eventually.”
I admired his strong heart but kept mute, the moment uncomfortable as death himself lingered the room. If my father ever died—I couldn’t even think of it. I wouldn’t allow it.
“All these weapons were collected from either past heists, battles or were once owned by legends.” His voice softened, and I eased once death excited the chamber. “You get to choose one.”
My brows erected, stunned. “As in to keep?”
A smile found its way to his mouth and he widened his arms. “You may choose any weapon to keep. It’s your reward for winning haja sangue. Wonderful, isn’t it?” His arms fell to his side. “Although when you choose, there are no exchanges. If you choose to give away your weapon—you can, but you can only select from The Vault once.”
“That’s fucking awesome!” I said, totally hyped. Levi’s smile grew, discovering amusement in my childish reaction. I cleared my throat and added quickly, “I mean—sounds good.”
I was unsure to why he was staring till I noted he was waiting for me to choose. Hurrying to the next case, I soon moved to the next one, and the one after that. Overwhelmed, like when trying to figure out what your online avatar looks like in Sims or any online site and catch yourself drowning in options, I asked Levi, “How are you supposed to know?”
He responded easily, “You just know.”
Thanks. Like I didn’t know that, Captain Obvious.
“But how do you know know?”
If he answers with ‘Because you just know’, I’ll kill him.
He paced around another case and stopped. “You want to find a weapon that you can live with. A weapon that will be a part of you. A weapon that represents you. A weapon that will define you.”
Define me.
I halted by the pretty wooden bow and arrow hanging on the stand. I half expected the name plate to say Katniss Everdeen, but wasn’t surprised to find another non English word.
I remembered from a book—City of Bones?—when the chic moved her hand over the tarot cards and her destined card flew to her hand. Curious, I raised my arm to the archery set like Iron Man and waited.
Nothing.
I was tempted to scream ‘I choose you!’, but opposed since Levi was looking at me quizzically.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Choosing a weapon,” I replied and waved my Iron Man hand, past the stupidity of this circumstance. My arm gradually getting tired, I was prepared to let it slump, but cut short at a glimmer.
Captivated, I was drawn down several rows and then stood in front of a glass. A golden gun, resembling to a Glock 19 9mm Luger, rested on a silver rack. From the four inch barrel and inviting trigger, I couldn’t rip my eyes off the design.
Deep carvings swirled from the barrel to the handle; allured engravings that swirled and crossed, like the lines themselves were divergent and uncertain which where they fit in.
I undid the glass latch and opened the case door. Trapped by its beauty, the second I felt the cool heavy metal in my hands, I knew it was mine.
Jessus, I sound like a fucking Wattpad Bad Boy.
Holy Jessus—more like an alpha werewolf.
Mother fucktards—did I just use the word Jessus?
I swear to God I was gonna hang Cray’s balls.
While taking the extra bullets, I read the name plate. 212.
Interested in why it was called that, I jumped as a touch landed on my shoulder. “Did you find one?” Levi asked.
It fit perfect for my hand shape. Nodding, I raised the weapon in one hand. His pleased expression dissolved into a deep frown.
Not fond of that look, I asked him what was wrong.
“You can’t choose that one,” he said and reached for the gun.
I recoiled, shielding it with my body. “You said I could choose any one here.”
“Except that one.”
“You said!”
He inched his fingers close. “Give it, darling.”
“No!” I pointed, exasperated. “You said I always have a choice. I choose the 212.”
He snatched my shoulder, but I shrugged him off. He grabbed my elbow, and before I could control it, the spark ignited. With a thumb flick, I loaded the gun and aimed it at his forehead.
He froze, arms immediately flying in surrender. “Darling.”
“Levi,” I said.
“Put it down.”
My heart pounded, the rates increasing after every word he spoke. A splash of alarm awakened his face and I listened to the hilt of fear at his voice. The alter ego sunk into my mind, turning my thoughts dark. The trigger itched as much as the rash.
“Darling.” He searched my eyes for that connection, straining for the humane side. The fire burned my heart, it pumping at impossible speeds. “Darling,” he repeated. I could feel my eyes swirl two colours at once—natural brown and sinful black. “Trust me,” he whispered.
Warmness enveloped my beating heart, his words hugging it, comforting the darkness. The pulse slowed down, my conscious mind coming to light. The black evaporated, brown filling my irises. Soon, the fire withdrew and I was sucked into coldness—left with thoughts of what I had done.
He noticed the horror evident on my features and pushed my trembling arm aside, soothing me in an embrace. I draped my arms around his neck and pressed him closer, inhaling his spice aroma. The contact was calming and I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that.
Finally, he lifted his chin and pressed his forehead against mine, having to lower to meet my height. “You’re right. I told you to pick any weapon. I always keep my word,” he spoke crisply.
He placed his smooth hand on my gun, guiding my own hand to my pocket. He guided it to slip inside the pocket, his hand resting there.
Fuck butterflies. I felt like the whole zoo was having a frat house party in my stomach. I looked at his soft lips, and then his yearning eyes. I hardly noted the hair space between us, and forgot how to breathe. He leaned closer, tilting slightly to swoop for a—
“Levi, sir!”
I immediately pulled back, my gaze dropping to the ground. Levi lowly grumbled something and snapped up, infuriated. “What is it?”
Casper suddenly cluing on my averting eyes and Levi’s bothered expression, grinned and said casually, “Was I disrupting an important moment?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Levi said.
We exchanged awkward glances.
“I mean,” we spoke in union.
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Levi said.
“Yes?” Casper asked, smiling like an idiot.
“No!” we shouted.
Casper’s lips pulled even higher. “If that smile gets any bigger I’m gonna smack it off your face,” I threatened.
He was about to respond until he spotted the gun in my hands. His face whitened. “You’re not supposed to take that.”
Protective, my fingers automatically touched the hilt of it. “Levi said I could choose any weapon.”
He fired Levi a frown. “He did?”
“Everyone has their choices,” Levi answered stiffly. We followed Casper back to the underground tunnel. Levi kept taking discreet glances at me and I tried not to notice.
It wasn't that hard since their reactions to the 212 wer forming a heavy weight of curiosity.
I leaned over to Casper as we descended the spiral staircase. “Why? What’s so bad about this weapon?”
Casper kept his nose forward, keeping soundless as if he wasn’t sure whether he could answer. Impatient, I opened my mouth until he quietly whispered, “That gun belonged to the last gang leader of the Cold Bloods.”
‡‡†††
So. This took me a while.
My excuse: Periods suck. Why?
1) After sitting down for a while, you stand up and suddenly it feels like fucking Niagara Falls.
2) You want to hit everyone...in the face...with a chair.
3) Remember that cute pair of undies you’ve got? Ruined. For. Life.
4) When you think you’re finally ‘done’ you take off the weapons of tampons/pads...5 minutes later you check. Not done, not done at all.
6) You say things you don’t mean.
7) You realize you’ve forgot there’s a 5 between 4 & 6, but since you think ‘Screw everything and being a girl’, you’re too lazy to fix it.
Thank fthe courtesy of teenagage posts and my convos w/ @MiniMess for cheering me up and telling me to take my time to update.
You’re welcome to kill her.
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