Chapter 17 Hector
HECTOR
Iwas slumped against a white, smooth wall in a never-ending corridor, staring down at my bloodied hands laid out on my lap. In one palm sat the shrapnel of a bullet. I couldn’t fathom that the bullet was outside of my body, but that was magic for you.
I lifted my soaked shirt, inspecting the wound on my stomach. It had healed. My death was banished to the far reaches of possibility, and yet as I gazed at the place where the bullet had torn through flesh, I saw fresh pink skin.
Perhaps if I didn’t look so much like a victim of a slasher film, I could convince myself I hadn’t almost died.
For all I knew, this was death. This place… a heaven or afterlife of some description, with the corridor of pure white stretching out before me for as far as I could see.
Overhead fluorescent bulbs emitted a stark light, making it almost impossible not to squint against the glare.
But I knew the truth, because I’d heard the voice loud and clear above my pain.
Words that repeated across my skull, taunting me as I tried to catch my breath.
“Welcome to the Witch Trials. Contestants, how glad I am to have you back. Remember, rule them. Win. Become Grand High and you will be blessed with your heart’s greatest desires.”
Death would’ve been a better option than this reality.
My legs were numb as I stood, using the wall behind me for leverage. I left prints of my blood anywhere I touched, turning my end of the corridor into a murder scene. Fitting, considering I’d somehow made it back into the Witch Trials—a place where only death won.
By the looks of it, I was alone, and yet I didn’t feel lonely.
To my sides, no wider than the span of my extended arms, were two imposing walls.
I stumbled over to one, leaning my ear against the cold stone and listening for sounds beyond it.
I was sure I heard the shuffling of feet from one side, but the other side was quiet.
I lifted my knuckles and knocked, hearing the tell-tale sign of something hollow.
I wondered if I punched hard enough I could break through to the other side.
What happened to everyone else? My throat seized as my thoughts went to my friends. Romy and Kai. I barely remembered when I saw them last, as if the interaction was blurred from my brush with mortality.
And then there was Arwyn barging his way into my mind.
The warmth of his steady hold, his hands refusing to let me go.
His tears as I looked up at him, brightening the desperation in his eyes as he held me in his arms. When the light had overcome his face, harshening his sculpted bone structure, I thought that was just me finally leaving life for whatever lingered beyond it.
I never expected to wake up here, back in the Witch Trials, alone and devastatingly afraid.
“Emon!” I shouted out, reaching out for my familiar’s bond. During the previous competition, Caym had been severed from me whilst we were inside of Bahmet’s domain. Of course, at the time we didn’t understand why, but with context it was because this was where the demon lord ruled.
Silence thrummed through our connection, and for the first time, I dreaded it. By no means did I have a deeper connection to Emon, but there was a sense of need that I felt when I thought of him.
Giving up, I did the only thing I could do and moved down the corridor. It was the only obvious route to get out of here. On shaking legs, it took what felt like hours to walk down the length of it.
At the end was a nondescript white door.
A breeze itched in through the narrow slit beneath the door, blowing in a strange powder across the pristine floor. I knelt, to the displeasure of my aching muscles, and drew a finger through the powder. Lifting it to my eyes, I saw what it really was.
“Sand,” I said, turning my finger over until the slightly beige specs fell back to the floor.
The thing about the Witch Trials that I’d learned… expect suffering. Whatever waited outside that door was likely a threat against my life.
Reaching for the handle, I finally understood what it meant when people said curiosity killed the cat. Because it was my need to know what waited on the other side of the door that would ultimately threaten my life.
I shielded my eyes as I was met with natural sunlight. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, and as they did I stepped out into a stadium of stone and sand.
Flabbergasted was an understatement as I took in the immense construction that was bigger than a football field, and looked more like something picked up from ancient Rome and dumped here.
Sunlight glared over the top of the stadium. Blinking back tears, I noticed that my initial hunch was right. I wasn’t alone at all. All around the long pitch of sand were bodies, stood in an even circle. I followed it around, not recognising any of the faces until my eyes fell on Kai.
His knees were bent like a cat, looking frantically at those at his sides. Poised and ready to attack, he was shouting something that I couldn’t hear at our yawning distance.
I took another step forwards just as the person to my left made a sharp move to run. The moment the woman clad in Hunter leathers reached away from her door, the sand exploded with a boom.
Her body… or the parts of her body, flew skyward.
Arms and legs were blown apart and ruined beyond the point of healing. They rained back down upon the stadium bed, staining the pale sands a dark brown. Her head, with its mouth creased in eternal pain, smacked the ground and rolled to a stop just ahead of me, endless eyes staring into my soul.
I clapped a hand over my mouth just as the urge to vomit overcame me.
Rule number one: don’t move until the trial begins.
As the dust settled, I frantically continued my search for who had found themselves victims to Bahmet’s deadly games. My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach as I finally found Romy Bailey.
She was standing calmly, hands clasped before her, eyes trained on me as if she waited for me to look for her. The second our eyes met she lifted up a hand and waved, jumping up and down to hold my attention.
Her mouth moved, but the sheer distance between us eradicated my ability to read her lips. I wanted nothing more than to run to her side, but after watching the Hunter beside me be blown up, I didn’t dare.
To Romy’s side was another woman I recognised.
Verena. The older woman looked at no one else but Romy, shock and disbelief evident across her face.
I clung to it for a moment, then wondered if I was mistaken, and the traitor witch working with Tomin only wanted to kill Romy the first moment she got—
Tomin. Was he here too?
My answer came quickly as I found him standing close to my left. Fire erupted in my gut, so hot I almost forgot the danger of stepping from my spot. If I hadn’t noticed Arwyn, moving just shy of Tomin’s shoulder, I might’ve risked my life.
My heart didn’t just skip a beat, it fucking leaped.
“Arwyn,” I gasped as he stepped free of his own white door. At the use of his name, Arwyn snapped his gaze to me. Our eyes met, and then he crumpled, legs giving out as he hit the ground.
Relief had never looked so beautiful.
“Don’t move!” I shouted, mind flashing with an image of his body exploding.
There were no marks to suggest how far we could travel, no guidelines or clear set rules.
And my mind was too overwhelmed to begin working out what trial this could possibly be.
“The ground is rigged with some kind of explosives.”
“You’re alive,” Arwyn gasped, eyes tracing every inch of me.
My hand automatically moved for my healed stomach, whilst the other lifted, fingers unfurling, to show Arwyn the single bullet sitting in my palm. “I gather you have something to do with it?”
Being back in the Witch Trials could only mean one thing. Bahmet was free… free to reign chaos on witch-kind once again. Which meant that Arwyn had freely given him up.
“Your life, for his freedom. That was my deal,” Arwyn admitted, standing again and dusting his trousers off. “But… Bahmet tricked me. If I’d known it would trigger the Witch Trials, I wouldn’t have—”
Arwyn stopped himself, chin lowering to his chest. I didn’t know what hurt more, almost dying or hearing Arwyn admit that he wouldn’t have saved me if he’d known his decision would lead to this.
“I get it,” I replied, tone as cold as my insides.
“No, you don’t,” Arwyn snapped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Turning away from Arwyn, I focused on the danger ahead of me. It didn’t matter that I was given a second chance at life if I couldn’t survive until the end of the day.
“Hector, please,” Arwyn called, the harsh pleading of his tone cutting me to the core. “Look at me.”
It hurt to ignore him, but soon enough the choice to reply was taken away from me as a groaning sound filled the stadium.
A rumbling sent ripples up through my legs as if a demonic beast was lurking beneath the ground, waiting to be released.
Perhaps that would be the first trial, much like The Culling, but instead of us all killing each other, Bahmet would send a monster out to complete the task.
My frantic mind raced through all my knowledge of the Witch Trials, trying to find a hint as to what was about to happen. But as I scanned the arena again, noticing that the majority of the contestants were humans, I knew this would be like nothing that had happened before.
Me, Romy, Kai, Arwyn and Verena were the only magic users. Tomin was immortal for reasons I still didn’t comprehend. And then there were the Hunters, at least thirty of them.
Only one could survive until the end and win the trials to become Bahmet’s vessel…
I looked back to Tomin who smiled to himself, looking the most at ease out of everyone. And I’d just worked out why.