Riot
Page 62
I nodded, then sat on the floor. Luka and Zaal left the cell. I felt someone hovering in the doorway and looked up. Valentin was watching me with suspicious eyes. His arms were folded over his chest. I waited for him to speak. When he did, he said, “My sister has had nothing but pain and heartache in her life.” He pointed to his chest, then said, “I failed to save her. I couldn’t secure her freedom.” His strict and forceful voice softened, then cracked with emotion. I saw his blue eyes glisten with tears, as he said in a husky voice, “She deserves someone to love her. Really love her. Treat her right. Treat her like the printsessa she is. Inessa deserves a warrior. A champion that will protect her and keep her safe.”
I paused, then replied, “I know.”
Valentin’s eyes narrowed, then he darted to his cell. My mind raced with a mixture of excitement and fear. Because although many obstacles stood in our way, freedom was close. Inessa had to hold on so we could be together.
* * *
An hour or two passed, then a guard walked in to take me to the tunnel. My muscles were weakened and my body was tired. But I was energized more than ever before.
I wouldn’t lose this fight.
I jumped to my feet, and the guard handed over my Kindjals. They had been removed from my cell when Master took Inessa away. I held them in my hands as the guard held the gun to my head. When the cell door opened, I looked across to the other cells. Luka, Zaal, and Valentin watched me go.
This time I didn’t jog to the tunnel; I sprinted. I sprinted all the way, pushing my legs to their absolute limit until I burst from the mouth and launched myself, Kindjals high, into the pit. My opponent charged, swinging his scythe, but I didn’t play his game. Ducking the curved blade, I sent not one, but both of my long Russian Cossack daggers, one after the other, flying through his stomach until their sharp blades sliced through his spine. My opponent separated, torso and legs now sliced apart. As they thudded into the sand, I turned and ran back to the cells.
Luka, Zaal, and Valentin nodded their heads in approval as I reentered my cell, coated in my opponent’s blood. I threw my Kindjals to the ground and righted my bed. I slumped down to the mattress and forced myself to close my eyes. When the tournament was done tonight, I would convene with the remaining champions and plot out tomorrow’s riot.
Tomorrow, when I walked out of this place.
With moy prekrasnyy by my side.
* * *
Sleep hadn’t come easy. My mind was clogged with what today would bring. But most of all I had pictured Inessa with Master. I had pictured her in pain, tied with rope between two posts. I felt sick when I thought of her being lashed.
I pushed myself off the floor, up and down, as I finished my push-ups. I needed my body warm and prepped. My muscles protested, pushed too far over the past few weeks. But I knew they had in them one more day.
The most important day I would ever live.
This day would bring only one of two possible outcomes: liberty or death. I faced both with a smile on my face.
The sound of Luka, Zaal, and Valentin warming up echoed outside my cell. Luka with his bladed knuckle-dusters, Zaal with his black sais, and Valentin with his unpowered steel picanas.
I replayed last night in my head. The plan. The rules and the show we must perform until it was time to strike. Until Luka gave the signal. Viktor and the rebel Wraiths would ensure everyone moved into position as we fought. I shook my head at that news. At the knowledge that not all of the guards were true Wraiths. That, like me and many others, they had been forced into servitude by Master. The rebels, as we fought, would take out as many Wraiths as they could. Master and all his guests would be in the crowd, watching the four-man fight. Unbeknownst to them, the doors would be sealed. There would be no escape.
Not for a single one of them.
The sound of footsteps approached the champions’ quarters. I detected three, two heavier than the third. I jumped to my feet, stretching my muscles, when there was movement at my cell door.
I didn’t need to look to see which fucker stood there. I closed my eyes and forced myself to keep from charging the bars and killing him on the spot. I held in my thirst to kill.
Just barely.
“901,” Master’s voice said, the sound of it slitting down my spine like shards of broken glass.
I turned and glared at the soon to be fallen king of the pit. I was on a countdown to slay.
He smiled at me. It was proud. It was victorious. He stood close to the bars, a guard and a chiri flanking him. The chiri held an injection pack in her hands. Her head was bowed, and I knew this was the female that Maya had told me about last night. The one that was sent to drug me.
“So,” Master said coldly, “you made it to the final?” I didn’t answer. My jaw ached at how hard it was clenched. He laughed, then pointed at the other cells behind him. “I never really doubted you could. After all, you’re the greatest fighter the Blood Pit has ever produced.” Master dropped his hand and said, “But you won’t be after today.”
Master clicked his fingers, and the guard cautiously opened the cell door. He kept his gun aimed at my head as Master pushed the chiri inside. The older woman stumbled in and quickly righted herself. She silently opened her bag and made quick work of retrieving the needle filled with the drugs that would make me weak.
As she held it, Master raised his hand, signaling for her to pause. The chiri did as commanded. I glared at Master, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t think I would allow you to win, did you? Not after you pathetically fell in love with my High Mona and decided to covet what was mine.”
I lifted my chin, refusing to show any remorse for falling in love with Inessa. Master’s face lit with challenge at my defiance. He shook his head, tutting loudly like he was reprimanding a child. “You see, 901, this has always been your problem. Even as a child, you never quite conformed. You never took a mona. You never built friendships with the other fighters. You lived alone.”
Master slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Shrugging, he added, “And now you will die alone.” Master’s taunting face fell. Then a cruel, sadistic smile appeared on his face. “As will she.” My blood ran cold when he added, “Alone. Racked with pain. Slowly, in the most cruel manner possible.”
I heard a livid roar coming from Valentin’s cell. Master raised an eyebrow as he looked that way. When he faced me again, he said, “You fucked up, 901. If you had obeyed me from the beginning, you could have been great. You could have gained your freedom if you had simply played by the rules.”
I paused, then replied, “I know.”
Valentin’s eyes narrowed, then he darted to his cell. My mind raced with a mixture of excitement and fear. Because although many obstacles stood in our way, freedom was close. Inessa had to hold on so we could be together.
* * *
An hour or two passed, then a guard walked in to take me to the tunnel. My muscles were weakened and my body was tired. But I was energized more than ever before.
I wouldn’t lose this fight.
I jumped to my feet, and the guard handed over my Kindjals. They had been removed from my cell when Master took Inessa away. I held them in my hands as the guard held the gun to my head. When the cell door opened, I looked across to the other cells. Luka, Zaal, and Valentin watched me go.
This time I didn’t jog to the tunnel; I sprinted. I sprinted all the way, pushing my legs to their absolute limit until I burst from the mouth and launched myself, Kindjals high, into the pit. My opponent charged, swinging his scythe, but I didn’t play his game. Ducking the curved blade, I sent not one, but both of my long Russian Cossack daggers, one after the other, flying through his stomach until their sharp blades sliced through his spine. My opponent separated, torso and legs now sliced apart. As they thudded into the sand, I turned and ran back to the cells.
Luka, Zaal, and Valentin nodded their heads in approval as I reentered my cell, coated in my opponent’s blood. I threw my Kindjals to the ground and righted my bed. I slumped down to the mattress and forced myself to close my eyes. When the tournament was done tonight, I would convene with the remaining champions and plot out tomorrow’s riot.
Tomorrow, when I walked out of this place.
With moy prekrasnyy by my side.
* * *
Sleep hadn’t come easy. My mind was clogged with what today would bring. But most of all I had pictured Inessa with Master. I had pictured her in pain, tied with rope between two posts. I felt sick when I thought of her being lashed.
I pushed myself off the floor, up and down, as I finished my push-ups. I needed my body warm and prepped. My muscles protested, pushed too far over the past few weeks. But I knew they had in them one more day.
The most important day I would ever live.
This day would bring only one of two possible outcomes: liberty or death. I faced both with a smile on my face.
The sound of Luka, Zaal, and Valentin warming up echoed outside my cell. Luka with his bladed knuckle-dusters, Zaal with his black sais, and Valentin with his unpowered steel picanas.
I replayed last night in my head. The plan. The rules and the show we must perform until it was time to strike. Until Luka gave the signal. Viktor and the rebel Wraiths would ensure everyone moved into position as we fought. I shook my head at that news. At the knowledge that not all of the guards were true Wraiths. That, like me and many others, they had been forced into servitude by Master. The rebels, as we fought, would take out as many Wraiths as they could. Master and all his guests would be in the crowd, watching the four-man fight. Unbeknownst to them, the doors would be sealed. There would be no escape.
Not for a single one of them.
The sound of footsteps approached the champions’ quarters. I detected three, two heavier than the third. I jumped to my feet, stretching my muscles, when there was movement at my cell door.
I didn’t need to look to see which fucker stood there. I closed my eyes and forced myself to keep from charging the bars and killing him on the spot. I held in my thirst to kill.
Just barely.
“901,” Master’s voice said, the sound of it slitting down my spine like shards of broken glass.
I turned and glared at the soon to be fallen king of the pit. I was on a countdown to slay.
He smiled at me. It was proud. It was victorious. He stood close to the bars, a guard and a chiri flanking him. The chiri held an injection pack in her hands. Her head was bowed, and I knew this was the female that Maya had told me about last night. The one that was sent to drug me.
“So,” Master said coldly, “you made it to the final?” I didn’t answer. My jaw ached at how hard it was clenched. He laughed, then pointed at the other cells behind him. “I never really doubted you could. After all, you’re the greatest fighter the Blood Pit has ever produced.” Master dropped his hand and said, “But you won’t be after today.”
Master clicked his fingers, and the guard cautiously opened the cell door. He kept his gun aimed at my head as Master pushed the chiri inside. The older woman stumbled in and quickly righted herself. She silently opened her bag and made quick work of retrieving the needle filled with the drugs that would make me weak.
As she held it, Master raised his hand, signaling for her to pause. The chiri did as commanded. I glared at Master, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t think I would allow you to win, did you? Not after you pathetically fell in love with my High Mona and decided to covet what was mine.”
I lifted my chin, refusing to show any remorse for falling in love with Inessa. Master’s face lit with challenge at my defiance. He shook his head, tutting loudly like he was reprimanding a child. “You see, 901, this has always been your problem. Even as a child, you never quite conformed. You never took a mona. You never built friendships with the other fighters. You lived alone.”
Master slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Shrugging, he added, “And now you will die alone.” Master’s taunting face fell. Then a cruel, sadistic smile appeared on his face. “As will she.” My blood ran cold when he added, “Alone. Racked with pain. Slowly, in the most cruel manner possible.”
I heard a livid roar coming from Valentin’s cell. Master raised an eyebrow as he looked that way. When he faced me again, he said, “You fucked up, 901. If you had obeyed me from the beginning, you could have been great. You could have gained your freedom if you had simply played by the rules.”
