Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice 6)
Page 59
None of them seemed to breathe. Just like me, they stood at attention, but no one stepped forward.
“It seems you have become scarier, too, Calliope. None of them want to fight you.” She laughed. “Well, I don’t blame them. This is the third one today. Why don’t we even the playing field a little.”
I expected her to call up more at least four people this time. It was three last week, so it would be four now. But instead, a knife was thrown into the ring at my feet.
“Stab your right leg…don't do too much damage. Just enough that they are
n’t scared to fight anymore.”
Breaking me was the handicap.
Bending over, I picked up the knife, wondering if I could throw it at her neck from here. But there were at least four of these assholes, I knew who would passionately protect her. There was no escape yet. There was no way to disobey. So I rolled my pants up and stabbed into the fat of my skin.
It hurt.
It hurt so badly, but instead of screaming, I stabbed my arm as well, biting my lips, before slowly rising, wobbling slightly. I stood, ignoring the blood that poured out of me. Breathing in, I swallowed my screams and stood at attention.
“Who’d like to fight her now?”
They all stepped forward.
That was why I didn’t bother remembering their names.
Lupus est homo homini. Man is a wolf to his fellow man.
Auribus teneo lupum. But I hold a wolf by the ears.
I was born in danger.
I couldn’t run from it.
I would fight it.
I would survive it.
And then I’d kill everyone. Gripping the knife tightly in my hands, I crashed down and stepped back as four of them entered the ring.
I knew what she wanted to do. She wanted me to know my body wasn’t mine. It was hers. I didn’t have any desire. I didn’t have control. I wasn’t supposed to feel. I was supposed to kill.
Win and kill.
And so that was what I was going to do. I was going to kill and kill and kill and give her the part of my body she wanted, and then I’d kill her with this same fucking body.
Stab me.
Shot me.
Drown me.
Break me.
But I wouldn’t die. No one was going to kill me. Not until I killed them all, not until I enjoyed my freedom from killing them, not until I was old and gray still dancing on their ashes would I even consider dying.
This world owed me.
So, I couldn’t die.
CALLIOPE—PRESENT