Aiming Straight, Aiming True.

Chapter 32 - A dark choice

Darkness, complete and suffocating darkness. Arena opened her eyes to find that it was as dark as when her eyes were shut. She groaned, her head pounding painfully as she took in her surroundings. All she could make out was a plain door on the other side of the room and that she was tied tightly to a hard chair. Her hands and feet tied together, her dark pants stained with dirt. She bumped her right leg against the chair and heard a dull thud.

She sighed quietly, her dagger the one she had bought what seemed so long ago was still hidden beneath her pants. She had never parted with the dagger, instinct she thought.

I just have to figure out how to get it and use it, she thought. She frowned, the rope digging into her skin, her wrists throbbing. She turned her head but nothing unique jumped out at her. The room was dark, dank and empty. Just her, the chair and the plain door at the other side of the room.

How did my life get so complicated, she thought. I should of just stayed out of the way, ignored those men holding Stephen and walked away, she thought. Arena sighed, closing her eyes again as she sat tied up and helpless. She hated it, she hated being helpless and knew she couldn't have walked away. Trying to help people seemed to have been drilled into her, that it was part of her.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard a soft click from the door. She glared at the door, trying to sit up straighter. They don't scare me, she thought. The door opened and light flickered through as three figures stepped into the room before shutting the door. She had gotten a glimpse of some sort of machine and sacks before the door was shut and the warm sunlight disappeared.

The figures shuffled closer with a lamp and Arena wished she had her bow so she could shoot them right now. Anger burned inside her, her cheeks growing warmer as she glared at the three figures. She clenched her fists, her body was tingling from this hatred and anger that swirled inside her. Why her, what did they want?

The figures stopped and Arena sucked in a mouthful of stale air. She could see their faces now and recognised one of them. " If I wasn't tied up I would beat all of you up until you were unconscious, forget justice", Arena hissed as she glared at the figures.

Damon stood to the left holding the lamp, his eyes filled with pain. His dark brown hair was tousled and fell into his mossy green and brown eyes. I should of never had trusted him, how could I be so stupid, she thought.

" I'm sorry Arena, we needed you, I needed you and isn't it better to be away from that idiotic prince and his side kick", sneered Damon.

" Oh yeah, being tied up to a chair and betrayed repeatedly by my so called friend and held hostage by the infamous John and his ugly gang is so much better", hissed Arena sarcastically. " I mean, it's once in a lifetime to have your heart ripped in two and whacked in the head too", she sneered.

Damon gripped the lamp tighter and took a step towards Arena angrily. " I didn't mean to do anything like that, I was just-", Damon began but Arena cut him off.

"Following orders, yeah you sure did a great job with that arsehole", Arena spat.

Damon took another step forward, anger fueling his body and he slapped Arena hard across the face. The slap rang out in the empty room. Arena recoiled in shock, her right cheek stinging. Damon stared at Arena's red cheek in shock and stumbled backwards.

" I didn't mean, I'm sorry Arena", whispered Damon reaching out to touch her cheek gently. Arena recoiled and spat at Damon as he tried to inch closer to her.

" I don't even know why I allowed you into my life, you're nothing Damon, just a mutt following orders", hissed Arena.

" Now now Arena, that's no way to treat Damon like that, I thought being in the castle would have taught you to be polite to your superiors", smiled John.