Chapter 7 Emery
EMERY
The two soldiers box me in before I can back out of the alley.
My breaths grow short. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I grit my teeth as I slowly back up. Their shoulders meet as they walk side by side, leaving me no way of escape.
“What should we do with her, Ollie?” Rogers says as he licks his dry lips.
A cold shudder crawls down my neck, and I fist my hands at my sides. “I’ll kill both of you if you so much as touch me,” I warn. I don’t have any weapons on me, but what else have the intense sparring matches been for if not to learn how to kill with your bare hands?
Ollie laughs like my words are weightless. “Let’s rough her up a bit. Then shave her head.” His small beady eyes rove over me, starved and hateful.
Lieutenant Erik would understand if he finds out what I’m about to do, wouldn’t he?
Rogers comes at me first. Bold and foolishly trying to reach out to grab me as if I’ll just lie down and die. I deck him across the face so hard his skull cracks against the left side wall. He groans as blood trickles down his temple.
I don’t let him catch his breath, firmly planting my foot straight into his chest and forcing his body backward. He gasps as the breath is stolen from his lungs. His body makes a loud thud on the ground.
Ollie curses as he pulls out a combat knife and points it at me.
“I’ll cut your pretty little face for that,” he practically growls.
I lift my arms defensively. “It’s sad you have to bring a knife to a fistfight.” His eyes blaze at the jab, and he lunges for me.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” He swings the blade at me and cuts through my sleeve, nicking my arm.
I don’t even flinch. His eyes widen, too late with the realization of my lack of response to pain.
My smile comes naturally, like I’ve done this many times and just forgot how exciting it is. Or could it be the medication? My veins feel like they are flowing with pure adrenaline. It’s almost arousing. I could get lost in this feeling, the waves of ecstasy that course through me.
The next thing I know, I’m smashing Ollie’s head into the cement wall repeatedly and letting his body slump down beside Rogers.
I stare down at them for a few minutes. They’re completely covered in gashes and blood. Unmoving and pale. Teeth are scattered across the ground, and some of the blood already looks dry.
My pulse jumps and I look up at the sky. It’s already getting dark. Mid-December here, it’s dark by four thirty.
How long was I… My train of thought is foggy. I slowly slump to the ground. Weariness overcomes me. How long was I doing this for? It felt like thirty seconds had passed, and in the blink of an eye… I’ve killed them both.
I weave my fingers through my hair and tremble.
What have I let the Dark Forces do to me?