𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 (ACOTAR FANFIC)

Fifty-Three

"Begin."

    I got into a fighting stance, bringing my fists up to protect my upper body. I purposefully plastered a fearful expression on my face, wanting the male to think he had this fight in the bag.

    I took a breath steadying myself as I willed power into my veins. It was a dark secret of mine to pretend I processed some type of magic. It made me feel powerful. Like I wasn't a mortal girl who was dirt. No, I molded my mind to think I was above even them.

    The red-headed male lunged and I met him in the middle ducking under a fist he threw my way. He held his fist up, ready to throw another punch but I blocked it with my forearm. He sent another. I blocked. We repeated the same motions. Punch. Block. Punch. Block.

I was already getting bored. He only used his fists; not utilizing any other weapons on his body. The only reason I was putting up with it—when I could have killed him when he threw that first fist and left his entire body exposed to my knives—was because the audience wanted a show. They wanted to be entertained, if I ended it before it began they wouldn't be happy. The only reason I was here was to make them happy.

    I forced one of his punches away with my palm, re-directing it as he threw yet another toward me. I snapped.

Ducking, I grabbed his fist from the other side when I came up. I sent a punch across his jaw, and the male reeled. Stumbling back a bit. I gave him no time to recover as I swung my leg up, kicking him on his right cheek. He hunched over. I turned to roundhouse him, and the male tumbled across the ground nearly hitting the ropes of the ring. He recovered, getting to his feet.

    But I was already upon him.

    I was a whirlwind of blood and violence. Never giving him a breaths reprieve as I struck. And struck. And struck.

    I felt nothing. Grieved nothing. It was like all the kind and remorseful parts of myself had been turned off.

    Blood sprayed from the male's mouth as I punched him across the jaw and kicked him in the chest, sending him tumbling to his back on the floor. I unsheathed my daggers. Feeling the leather that wrapped the hilt like an old friend.

    I didn't rush as I walked to the male. I stood over him. Looked down at him. I wanted my face to be the last thing he saw. To see the moment he realized that he'd made a mistake fighting against me just before I killed him.

The male looked up at me, bloodied and broken. "Tell me," I began, "will you put aside your pride and beg for the mercy of a mortal?" I snickered, " Beg for it and maybe I'll grant it."

I laughed leaning down and whispered in his ear, "Go on," his breathing was ragged in my ear as I whispered, "beg." I was gone.

The male tilted his head to the side, spitting the blood that had gathered in his mouth onto the dirty floors, "Never."

I tilted my head, "Then I hope you enjoyed your last moments."

"You won't do it."

I leaned my head back, looking into the male's eyes, "I'm glad that the last words you've said in this world were wrong." I plunged the dagger into his heart.

I watched the light fade from his eyes as all traces of life left him. My heart sunk. And the energy I'd just felt went away at the picture in front of me.

There it was.

The guilt.

The hurt.

Regret.

It was all there.

I stood tall. Looking up at the crowd, I held my hands up at my sides. Daring them. Just daring them to test me. "Come on, then!" I yelled, "Come get the mortal!" I quieted my voice, a familiar smile circling my lips upward, "Whose next?"

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

    I was tired. So, so, tired.

    Bloody footprints followed in my wake as I walked down the halls. My clothes had soaked with sprayed blood. I didn't want to look. I feared I'd break down in front of the guards if I did. My eyes drooped, threatening to close as we walked.

    I'd fought for hours on end. I won. Every. Single. Time.

We came to my cell door, a guard stepping up and unlocking it before they threw me in like trash. I couldn't really bring myself to care. I was too tired. I fell to the ground. Not bothering to get up as I crawled over to the small hay bed in the cell. I curled up on it, bringing my knees to my chest like a child. I felt weak. I felt broken. The truth was I was both. As much as I tried to hide behind my mask of invincibility and strength. Underneath, I'd always be the little girl, scared out of her mind as she walked into her new life of torment.

    I couldn't close my eyes.

    All I could think about was the blood that soaked my clothes. My skin. I wanted to rip them off. I wanted to feel clean. Like my skin had never been stained red with blood.

    But that would never happen. My skin would always be dirtied with blood.

    I closed my eyes. And I fell asleep wishing I was someone else.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: shawty a lil' baddie. Shawty my lil' boo thangg.