Chapter 30
thirty
-Brynn-
-A couple moments earlier-
Ares is somewhere in front of me, heading straight for the attic, like he’s chasing something, or more likely, someone.
He’s in hunt mode; I can see it clearly. He sniffs the air like a hound dog, locked on his prey, but his senses are sharp enough to pick up my trail, too.
He stops, almost like he’s waiting for me to show. But this isn’t the right place. It’s more like a looping passage than a real room, and I know I saw someone else here. I don’t want to take the chance of having two opponents.
I duck behind an old bookcase, the stench of formaldehyde and rotting books, sharp up my nostrils. And I swear, he’s one heartbeat away from coming for me.
I grip the handle of my sword and steady myself. His head will fall.
But then heavy footsteps pound the wooden floor, and one of the other contestants appears right in front of him.
Ares swings his sword on instinct and kills the guy so easily, it’s laughable. Like he’s a damn war machine, something only built for destruction.
But I don’t fear him. I’m doing my best to push all feelings aside because fear isn’t what might break me. It’s the pain of knowing what I’m about to do next.
Ares leaves as soon as the man drops, but I stick around for a few moments longer, making sure the room is clear.
He’s headed for the north side of the building, and even though I’ve never been here, I can follow his trail.
His cologne clings in the air, like smoke—like a poison meant to bring back memories of him, spreading through my system, whispering that I’m making a mistake.
But in reality, he’s the one who made the mistake.
I end up in a large room. Bigger than any we’ve seen up here so far.
The whole space feels almost sinister, the plaster peeling off the walls, mold and rot choking the air, and making it difficult for me to breathe.
This place should’ve been shut down ages ago.
But whatever shit went down here obviously paid off enough officials to keep it standing.
I hope, no matter what happens tonight, the place burns to the ground, just like every other building that’s ever witnessed this game.
I spot Ares ahead of me, and even though his body is here, his mind seems far away. He’s staring at a half-dead guy curled up in a corner of the room. And from the looks of him, he’s one of the surveillance team.
It doesn’t make sense, but as I try to focus on his face, there’s nothing left to recognize.
The room is dark, but I can still make out blood smeared across his cheeks, dripping down his white shirt, his ears and nose, gone.
The image is gruesome, and from the looks of it, Ares did this.
But I’m not here to understand what happened to this guy. I’m here to finally get justice for Elias.
I step in the center of the room, waiting for Ares to acknowledge my presence. I’m not a coward. I’m not going to try and stab him in his back and take his head.
I need him to look me in the eyes when I kill him. To feel, even for a second, the pain I’m feeling.
He finally turns to me, eyes raking me from head to toe. For a moment, he pauses, almost shocked that I haven’t bolted already. Instead, I stand here, challenging him. And he responds.
No hesitation, he charges toward me, eager to finish me off.
That’s not going to happen. I’ve trained too much to let that happen.
His sword rises high in the air, and the second he’s close enough, he swings for me.
Not a chance. I raise my blade, blocking his.
Still, he’s too strong, and the blow knocks me down, my knees scraping the floor. But I’ve got the speed, and I won’t let him get another chance. I dart beneath his arm, my sword still high up in the air in defense, as I slip to his left.
I’m still within arm's reach, but I know I don’t have a chance of beating him with force. My leverage is agility, so I charge again, keeping a greater distance so our blades meet near the tip, not the hilts. This way, I can keep him busy as I search for an opportunity to strike.
He turns and swings his sword toward me, but my plan works. I parry, our swords colliding so fast they blur.
Adrenaline floods my veins, fueling the courage, or maybe the madness, to take on a god.
We clash for minutes, faster and stronger, and I realize it’ll wear me down soon. I take a step back and let him charge for me.
He barrels toward me at full speed, to finally destroy me, the deck threatening to let go. But as he charges, I leap aside, then again to his left and go straight for his head.
I swing my sword, and I know I’ve hit.
A strange silence hangs in the air for a second, and I can’t even bring myself to look at what I’ve done.
I’m shaking, and no amount of adrenaline can keep back the feeling of something breaking inside me. But it’s only for a short second before I realize I’ve hit his shoulder and cut one of his warrior braids.
He turns, facing me fully, cracking his neck from side to side, waiting for his flesh to stitch itself back together.
I don’t even mimic the surprise of witnessing something this unnatural, like his body rejuvenating. I just hold my ground and wait for his next move.
He’s certain he’ll kill me because he’d never let anyone walk away after witnessing this. Oh, he's pissed off right now, and I’m already scanning the room, searching for a Plan B.
And here it is, right in front of me.
He charges again, and I let him, fending off his slashes, one by one, almost like some brutal arcade fight.
But his blows are getting stronger. It’s only a matter of seconds before the next one ends me.
I have to act now. I back away, pretending to retreat, but really, I’m angling for something that’ll give me enough speed to take him by surprise.
There’s a table behind me, and he’ll think he’ll have me cornered, when in all actuality, he’s the one about to meet his end.
The power of our swords clashing rings through the room, and just when I’m close enough to the table, I duck, fend off his blade. Then I spring with one foot on a cradle by the table—then, straight onto the countertop.
For a second, he thinks I’m fleeing. But I’m using every card I’ve got.
I launch high into the air, my sword hungry for his head. “Goodbye, Ares.”
For a heartbeat, I feel every emotion colliding. Anger, hate, love, pain—like lightning, racing across my body as the world slows to a crawl.
Not every bet is a winner. I catch a glimpse of him, the shock in his eyes after hearing my voice, trying to piece it together. Indescribable.
I was hoping that shock would numb his reactions.
But I underestimated him.
I challenged the God of War. And convinced myself it was his time to lose.
Still, I knew I could never live with myself, knowing I did nothing to avenge Elias.
Ares balances his weight on his left leg, his sword mercilessly as he sidesteps, moving out of my way. And I miss.
Now the silver metal of his blade gleams above my head... and I don’t feel fear. I only feel the disappointment of failing my mission.
For one last moment, my eyes meet his. The confusion is still there, but there’s something else, too. Something I don’t have time to decipher before a pain explodes inside of me, like it’s tearing me to pieces.
Then a deafening noise fills my ears, and all of my senses fade one by one.
Until there’s only darkness.