They Called Her the Devil

Chapter 9, Kate

Darkness. Then a flash of white light. Then a throb of pain as I opened my eyes. I was home, in my room.

I heard a knock on the door and called out for whomever it was to come in. It was Andrea. Andrea was a pretty woman in her late thirties; she had dirty blond hair piled into a loose bun and kind green eyes. She was definitely my favorite maid.

"Morning Kate." she called friendlily.

"Good morning!" I said back, being the nice thing to do.

I glanced down at her hands to see my favorite breakfast of chocolate chip waffles on a silver tray. Andrea placed it on my lap and I thanked her with a smile. She ruffled my hair and smiled as she left. I liked her a lot.

I glanced down at the tray and could see my reflection perfectly. The smiling face of a five-year-old girl grinned back at me. Hunger overcame me and I dug in to my breakfast, they were delicious.

I pulled on my favorite blue dress and went to leave my room. I was a big girl and didn't even need to be watched anymore. Wandering down the hall I saw Andrea running, she must've been playing tag with someone.

Then I heard a loud bang and she tripped and fell. She was lying on the ground and not moving. She was probably playing dead.

The game looked fun and I wanted to play so I walked over and tapped Andrea on the shoulder. She was still playing dead. I noticed she had spilled something red on her shirt. Probably juice.

I was starting to get mad. Why wasn't she moving? I wanted to play. Maybe she'd fallen asleep. I poked her in the ribs but she didn't move.

Then I felt arms around me as my dad picked me up.  I turned to him; maybe he'd know why Andrea didn't want to play. He held me in one arm and had a funny metal thing in his other hand. It looked like what the bad guys on TV carried.

"Daddy," I asked, "why isn't Andrea moving?"

"Andrea's dead sweetie," he said, "she did something bad so she died. We'll get you another maid and you won't even remember her."

I wasn't really sure what dead meant. It probably meant she was sleeping. I hoped she'd wake up soon.

***

I felt another sharp pain and descended into darkness. Then light filled my vision as I opened my eyes.

I was lying on the floor as my father stood over me. My cheek throbbed from where he'd struck me a moment ago.

"I just want to learn to defend myself!" I yelled. I knew it wouldn't help, but I didn't care.

"No." his voice was level and calm, "you're a girl, you should spend your time doing more useful things."

"You taught mom to fight." I retorted. Logic had to work.

"That was before we had guards." His voice was equally calm and all it did was make me angrier.

Before I could say another word he strode out of the room and slammed the door. I sank to the floor as tears streamed down my face. He had taught Derek to fight when he was twelve, why was I any different.

It was because I'm a girl and my brother isn't. Derek would take over the Legion when my father died. My father, of course, would choose my husband; I would strategically marry someone powerful.

I was just so sick and tired of the etiquette lessons. Not to mention poetry, dance, and piano. If I had to spend one more day in that room being screamed at for some random imperfection, I'd die.

Then I heard the door open. I expected a guard coming to escort me to my next torture session, AKA poetry lessons. Instead it was my mother. Her fiery red hair was loosely braided and her blue eyes, identical to mine, were full of fury.

"Get up Kate, we have some stuff to do." Her voice was angry and full of the force I always acquainted with my mother. She was the epitome of strength.

"Poetry," I responded dejectedly, "let's get this over with."

"No." she responded, her voice was firm and sure, "you need to learn to fight, and I'm teaching you."

***

The pain was less this time and but the light was just as bright. I was standing in my mother's secret gym, face to face with my mom. We had been training for two years now.

She nodded to me and I returned the gesture. I then leapt into action. I faked left before aiming a spinning kick at her side. She easily dodged out of the way, but I saw it coming.

I placed my foot in her path, tripping her. But before I could pin her she was on her feet. I flipped backwards barely dodging her next hit. I felt my foot connect with something as I arced gracefully through the air.

I turned to see my mother holding a broken arm. Nothing a little MC-57 wouldn't fix. She lunged at me swinging her good arm and connecting with my stomach. I doubled over for an instant before regaining my stance.

I pulled a training knife from the belt around my waist. My mother did the same pulling her favorite obsidian blade. She lunged only to meet air as I dodged.

We spent a few minutes swiping and dodging before I managed to get behind her. I held the steel training knife to her throat and she laughed. I'd finally beaten her.

My mother had never gone easy on me and I'd never asked her to. Beating her was a big deal and a grin spread across my face as I felt endorphins rush through my body.

Then my heart dropped as I heard slow clapping from behind a row of training dummies. Nobody knew about our training sessions. No one even knew about this gym except my mother and me.

Death himself emerged from the shadows. My father had a look of pure rage upon his usually calm features.

"Lilli," he addressed my mother, his voice brimming with anger, "we agreed not to teach her to fight."

"Grayson," she responded, her voice slightly shaking, "I wasn't about to leave her defenseless. She's by far the best fighter I've ever seen"

"That's the problem," he responded, "I can't have a daughter who's stronger than me."

He pulled his gun turning to me. It was like everything was in slow motion as he aimed and pulled the trigger. Then, as if by magic, my mother appeared in front of me. Saving me.

The bullet tore through her chest, right through her heart. She fell to the floor, dead.

In an instant I was on him. Tears streaming down my face I knocked the gun from his hand and grabbed my mother's knife, which had fallen nearby. I held the knife at his throat staring into the eyes of the man who'd tormented me for fourteen years.

"Please," he begged, for once he looked scared, "you can take her place, I need a new second in command."

I lifted the knife. It was everything I'd ever wanted. But I'd never forgive him. Never.

***

I felt another jab of pain, this one like being stabbed with a needle. The face of Xander Silver appeared in my vision. I smiled at him and he smiled back. I walked forward, closer to Xander. He had such beautifully green eyes.

Then without warning his hands were around my waist and I was kissing him. It was deep and passionate. Absolutely perfect. I closed my eyes and leaned into him.

Then I opened my eyes to find myself handcuffed to a table surrounded by the rebels. This was not good. I could not have feelings for anyone, especially not the enemy.

***

Hello everyone! What do you think of Kate's troubled past? Do you think she regrets sparing her father? Why do you think Death hasn't killed Kate?What do you think of Kate's last hallucination? Please vote and comment, I really want to know what you guys think.

-Jade