Chapter Ten
Catherine
My head collides with the table, momentarily making the world go black. I groan, pushing myself off the table, my palm pressing against the edge of the wood. Turning around with my arms out wide, trying to stable myself, I raise my head up to face the problem- or rather, problems.
Two males- both apparent Oi Alloins; both taller than 6 feet; both a little further than 20 feet away; both hosts to two powers- both perfectly capable of killing me.
But they aren't killing you Catherine, are they?
All their moves are simple, casual knockouts, tailored to give concussions but never a bit more. Nothing more, nothing less. They can easily grab the knives that are sitting patiently on the dining table, but they don't. It's almost as if they're not even trying to kill me, but why? Isn't this what Oi Alloi men do? Kill people? Igetis would never give away a victim, especially one from To Sotos. I breath in, my eyes fluttering close, the men a safe distance away, wigs off now. I walk through all the cuts my body currently has: a simple slice on my forearm, not really bleeding too much; a thorough gash parallel to my eyebrows- instinctively, I put my arm out to touch it, my hand screams in pain: another well sinked in on my right shoulder. Okay, not too bad. I open my eyes, ready to fight for my life.
But both of those...things are just staring at me. Not moving. Waiting. For me.
Maybe I should not be stupid and do anything- but I will be stupid and I'm going to do something. I have an advantage now, and I'm not going to let it go.
I slowly pull out a throwing knife from my left boot. Then another from my right. My only two, as instructed by Elizabeth. Use them wisely, Catherine. They are both still, tensed up around the eyes and chest. I knew they can dodge knives, so throwing any at them won't help at all and there's no way I can run out of the house, or get access to a landline or phone. These guys may not be here to kill me, but they very much can knock me, tie me up, and take me as hostage. I have to kill them, or injure, at the least, but the question stands: how? I frown.
My mom would always say, "Think, Cathy, your mind is your greatest weapon."
Mom.
I miss her so much. I long for her safety, her comfort. I kick myself internally, getting my mind back on track to the ongoing scene.,
God, Catherine stop getting so dis-
Wait.
I smiled at the imbeciles. They aren't very smart. This could work...
Twirling my knife in my hand, a smile morphing into what I'm assuming looks like a maniacal grin, I say, "Come on. Are you even trying to kill me? Let's have some fun!"
I eye them closely for any reaction, my grin not faltering even once.
Nothing. Maybe a flicker of unease spill across the merciless Oi Alloin eyes, but none. I'm going to have to just... go for it.
I bound at them savagely, thrusting the kindly knife down through the taller ones chest, again and again and again as he hollows in pain, tears cursing his way down his cheeks, his wrists turn ever so slightly towards me, as if he wants to hurt me with his powers, but he doesn't, and as his palm lets go of the ache, turning to the floor, a damp puddle appears below it.
Almost aware that the other man would be breaking my heart in two in almost a moment, I flex my muscles in a last effort to go out with good poster (you should be proud of me, mom) but instead, his partner, who had failed hilariously to impersonate my mother, now turns towards me and starts backing out the door, his back facing the exit. Why isn't he attacking me? Let it go, there's not time to think about that right now. As I watch the man stutter away, it hits me: I have to kill them both; no one can be left with this knowledge.
I thrust the dying body in my cruel hands aside and venomously walk towards the other imposter. "You are not going anywhere, Mom." I fling the bloody knife at his face, precision at its apex, cutting right through his eyebrows, a river of flood rushes out, dripping over his nose as the man falls to his knees before me. Both my stalkers fall to the floor, a pool of blood at their bodies. I walk over to the kitchen sink, wash my hands, my face, and continue making myself some dinner- it's always the right time for food and I am starving.
Once I gather up the courage to look at the lifeless bodies on the floor of my house, and examine their state (not much to say about that) and my hand slides over the loaded gun, it hits me why they didn't even try to hurt me, their victim, their target. And even though I despise my answer, it gives me a little bit of hope. It means my parents are alive, and safe, probably just two streets away, at his house and it also means that he's looking out for me, still on our side.
The clock ticks away pathetically in the room; only an hour has passed.
I don't know why he did it, or what he gains from it, but I know he is taking care of them, that he is the one who had made sure that these ridiculous men didn't harm me. I consider telling him everything tomorrow on our way to headquarters but decided against it; he would probably know already.
Oh Peter.
-
I wrap the scarf around his face gently, making sure it's held back tight. I trust him with my life- which he's saved more than once- but I can't take any chances.
It takes me everything to hold back my questions on last night's events, on my parents, but, as the engine jitters to life, I know I have to wait. And with one last sorrowful thought about the two murders that took place at my house just some time back slowly escaping my mind, I switch the gears of my car and start on the journey.
-
Eliza has outdone herself. This test is certainly something- hopefully not too much though. I look around me, an over excited, squealing audience fills up both the sides of the room, making it look more like a stadium.
Funnily enough, Eliza herself looks like a mess: her normally neatly piled hair now had strands falling out, a trail of sweat rolled down the side of her face- even her clothes are a bit messed up- with crumples and dark spots at the bottom. Eliza has had an adventure! I smile to myself, nudging Peter to see this.
In front of Peter stands an exquisite course of obstacles, each one testing a different power of his. I wonder how she knew which ones he possessed- they haven't met before this and I haven't spoken to her about this.
The entire path is broken into four sections: the first one, a dark, enclosed room with a small radio inside it connects to a computer outside with a long wire. The computer, controlled manually, has a long pattern of what look like...volumes?
Oh.
Sharp hearing.
I squeeze Peter's hand once, twice, three times, just for the sake of my anxiety (one of the many reasons boyfriends are amazing). This room thing is practically a joke to him- right?
"Hey," He whispers to me, his mouth brushing against my ear. "I think it's adorable when you worry but I'll be fine, okay?"
"I don't want you to get hurt." I whine sensibly.
He kisses me lightly on my forehead. "I love you." He says lightly just as his lips touch my skin. Lightly, like those words were just something you can throw around like leaves.
My heart skips a beat. "Good to know."
With my hand still in his, and his kiss lingering around my face, we move on to the next obstacle.
It looks much like a ginormous boxing ring; a huge pile of logs on one corner, a frozen block of ice on the other, and a man in the center.
In his hand, the man holds a stick that's on already on fire. What would happen here, the announcer, who was speaking in the background explains to the hall the following: "the man in the ring will light the logs on fire while Peter will try to do the same to the entire block of ice, making it water. Peter must then, only after completing the first part of this task, turn around and face his next problem and cool down the fire the man inside lights, showing his control over the element."
Our clutched hands dampen, Peter tugs at my hand and I sigh worriedly- but softly, for his sake. My eyes skid over to the next problem: a tank of water in which he has to hold his breath for at least 10 minutes. I turn to look at him. His eyes, which were a gooey yellow just seconds before, return to their original blue. This will be easy. I smile and continue observing the courses.
And then I stop. She would not do this! Absolutely not.
A ring, the size of a normal room, perhaps 9 by 9 feet stands marked on the floor. I already know what is in it. That witch. i
I frown, turning to walk over to her to give her a piece of my mind, but Peter jerks my hand back and smiles at me. Ugh, that smile.
"You know, you didn't answer me back." He says, still smiling.
I take a step closer and put my mouth to his ear, not ready to say it out loud yet. "But I did."
He shrugs, grinning, "and that's all you want to say?"
I look away, my cheeks heating up and my heart beat increasing just as quickly.
I look back at him. He's biting his lip in worry. "You shouldn't be this scared for me, you know. It's okay, I'm going to be okay- this is what I'm trained for."
"No, you're not trained to be a clown in a circus with all these people watching on all excited like its some game. You know she's not going to stop them from beating you up- from... from killing you? You know that right?"
"You know that right?" He mocks me, his voice too high and expression- too funny. I chuckle lightly and completely turn to face him, pulling his face towards mine and gently putting my lips on his- just.
As I pull away almost immediately, I hear the cheering from the crowd, pumped up all of a sudden, and then I watch as Peter cheekily licks his lips, a grin broader than before lighting up his face.
The announcer who had stopped to make scene of our spectacle, moves on, "The next obstacle is kind of obvious: Peter will have to fight our men and if he wins, he is crowned our Savior." The audience rises up and scream in waves throughout the stadium like structure. "And one last thing: this match, the fight, decides a winner only through Life and Death."
A worried sound rushes out of Peter from my left, I let it go- he wouldn't want me to know he's scared. But there's nothing wrong with being scared?"
Inside the ring, a circle of To Sotos soldiers wait for Peter hungrily.
I curse that wretched Eliza under my breath and, following the orders given in the announcement, leave for my seat. I stop after two steps and get back, heading back to Peter. I lean in towards him, putting my hands around his neck. "You can do this. It's easy." I say, lying blindly. He chuckles softly and puts his hands around my waist, slowly but tight.
He grins, his eyes a mischievous shade of turquoise, "I think we both know just how easy it is."
"But," he says, "I'll do it for you."
The announcer blows a horn just then, signaling the beginning of the events. I let go of him, heading towards my seat.
Should I have done that? Let him risk his life for me this way? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
My head aches with worry and hatred and love.