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Chapter 38: Round Two pt 2
Last Updated:
2023-03-11 03:26:57
ADB_StoriesThe Tournament is definitely intensifying. How many will survive Round 2?
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I watch the nurse as she carefully injects the local anaesthetic into my hand. Her touch is so gentle and nurturing that it makes me wonder how someone with such a caring touch ended up patching up killers. She doesn’t speak or look at me as she begins sewing the gash in my right hand. She works meticulously, focusing intently on the task. She looks like she’s in her own little bubble, probably doing her best to try and forget where she is and who she is helping. I have nothing against hospitals. Been in and out of them enough times that they start to feel like taking a trip to the grocery store, but the clinic set up by The Tournament is one I loathe. It’s not the sterile environment or the bright lights that bother me, and unlike most clinics, it’s actually incredibly well-furnished with soothing whites, greens, and yellows. It looks rather cheerful, which is something I hate. They put us through absolute hell then bring us here to get patched up so they can continue to put us thr
Last Updated : 2023-03-13Codename: Blackheart Chapter 40: Round Three pt 2
If it weren’t for the painkillers I wouldn’t have slept a wink last night. As good as I am at blocking out pain, it’s a little difficult to do when you continue to move and use the parts of you that are injured. Even eating dinner last night hurt like a bitch. I’ve gotten lucky that these are the worst injuries I have sustained so far, but I have a strong feeling my luck is about to run out. I’m dressed in yet another bodysuit, covered head to toe and waiting to be escorted to the arena. I kill time by fantasizing all the ways I could try and escape but even in my fantasies, each attempt ends in my death. It is an effective way out of The Tournament, but not one I’m particularly keen on. When I hear the familiar knock at the door, I get up, shake off the thoughts and get myself in the zone. I focus on my breathing and heart rate as I’m escorted to the competitor's lounge instead of solitary. I take a seat and wait as one by one the other eight competitors arrive. I’m grateful for th
Last Updated : 2023-03-13Codename: Blackheart Chapter 41: Round Three pt 3
With slow movements I approach the ice hole in front of me, taking in slow deep breaths as I begin to regulate my heart rate. When your body goes into cold shock, panic hits almost immediately. That panic could kill me faster than the cold, so I need to stay calm. I crouch down, carefully sit on the edge of the ice, and submerge my feet. I continue to focus on my breathing as my body instinctively tries to gasp in air and yank my feet out of the water, and that’s just its response to my feet touching this frozen death trap. I take a moment to close my eyes and breathe and tune out the sounds of the overenthusiastic crowd. As I feel my legs adjusting to the cold, I hold onto the edge of the ice hole and slowly begin submerging my body into the water. As the icy cold water hits my skin my heart begins to race and my breathing comes in short quick bursts, and I can feel the cold reaching down to my bones. My body feels heavier, and I can feel its natural response of wanting to shut down
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I feel myself start to wake up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. The more alert my senses become the more aware I am of the pain and heaviness radiating through my body. I feel like I was thrown off a cliff and smashed against jagged rocks over and over and over again, but that’s just my body. My feet are another story. Tears prick my shut eyes as the excruciating sensation of raw nerve endings being exposed hits me and I want to scream. The only thing stopping me is how weak I feel. I force my eyes open and thankfully am met by a dim light at the far end of the room. I can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping its infuriating rhythm, but one that reminds me I’m alive. I see several IV bags hung up, and as I attempt to glance down I notice the oxygen mask on my face. My body is wrapped up tight in shiny silver heat sheets and blankets like a little human burrito. Everything except my feet. My feet are suspended in harnesses, covered in some kind of cream. Even from here, I can s
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An answer to my question is given when another man enters my room, this time pushing the most compact, futuristic electric chair I’ve ever seen. It’s really just a small seat on top of big tyres, there’s not much to it, and nowhere near as bulky or cumbersome as the kind you see the elderly use. It has a joystick control, black leather lining and white exterior. I glare at the contraption with clear disdain. I’m reduced to an electric wheelchair because they won’t just let me go. Can’t walk or do shit, but still expected to make an appearance. I’ll be a sitting duck. Before the doctor administers the nerve block, he changes the bandages on my hands for a thinner, skin-coloured bandage, then the women help me into a one-shoulder floor-length lilac glittering sequined gown with a sweetheart bust and a slit up to my hip on my left side. It’s stunning and hugs my body perfectly. My hair is styled in a large intricate updo that appears full and voluminous while also being sleek. My nails m
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Laying on the cot in the Red Room, I hold myself in the foetal position as agonising pain rips through my abdomen. I managed to stop throwing up and shitting my organs out long enough for them to bring me here and to add insult to injury, the nerve block in my feet has worn off, so right now, all I have is pain. My insides feel like they’re constricted and on fire, my hands are throbbing painfully as I clench them into fists to fight off the pain, and my feet feel like they’re on fire. I can feel the sweat soaking my hair and clothes and my breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. I bet Hexton was so proud of himself for putting me in here, thinking it would fuck with my head, but I barely even notice this stupid fucking Red Room because I’m distracted by pain. I’m probably going to die in this place. At this point it seems inevitable and yet I’m just not ready to give up. My parents survived hell just like this so they could come home to me, if I just give up, then they’ll be
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Everything was peaceful and painless, and I was dreaming about the hikes I used to take with my family. The fact I was dreaming means I’m still alive and if that wasn’t proof enough, then the fact my body is shocked into a state of consciousness as I feel excruciating pain shoot through my neck, would be a dead giveaway. I feel disoriented and yet every pain receptor in my body feels like it’s been amped up to a thousand, so I can’t stop the scream that escapes me. I feel something sharp in my neck and the warmth of my own blood gliding down my skin. I try to move but I instantly realise my arms and legs are bound. What hell have I woken up to now? “Got it!” I hear a man’s voice declare. He sounds American “Good, now destroy it so no one can use it to track her and find her here,” says a woman’s voice… a familiar woman’s voice at that. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling against concrete and a door that needs some oil, opening and closing. There’s an echo when the door shuts indic
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~ FLASHBACK A MONTH AGO~ “So since obviously, my answer is yes to being the awesome godmother of your baby boy, how’s about you give me the information I want?” I say getting back on track while I simultaneously monitor Alec and the dickhead following me. Mikhail chuckles, “A deal’s a deal. Get ready for this. Wasn’t easy to find but you came to the right place,” he boasts. I roll my eyes, “Spit it out already.” “So impatient. Anyway, I ran the background on this Alec Lowell, and you were right to be suspicious. I checked all the data of these sites and all the information you found was only input into the system a month ago, prior to that none of the information on Alec Lowell existed,” Mikhail informs me. I shake my head, “Explains the shadow and his apartment. I’m being set up.” “It looks that way, but I was able to run facial recognition software and though it seems like more information on your guy has been erased, they didn’t get all of it, and I’m better,” he praises himse
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As I pull up to Il Segreto in my Jaguar, grab my handcrafted sterling silver clutch purse and open it to once again confirm Crimson is carefully tucked away inside. I close my purse back up, pull down my visor, and examine my makeup. My ivory skin is accentuated by my smokey black eyes with gold glitter pressed into the corner of my eyes. My lips are painted black as midnight with glitter that sparkles brighter than the stars. My black hair, which has grown exceptionally long over the past year, is up in a high, fluffy bun with tendrils coming down framing my face and hiding the faint scar that travels down the left side of my hairline. I gingerly touch the scar with my freshly manicured mirror chrome painted nails and reminisce on just how far I’ve come in this past year. ~FLASHBACK ONE YEAR AGO~ “That’s it. We’re retiring,” I hear my mother whisper yell in Italian. I feel myself waking up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes, but even so, I take comfort in knowing my mother is here,
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I jolt awake as I feel something touch my lips. Instinctively I flinch away, thinking it’s Hadleigh back for another round of torture. “It’s just water,” I hear Elijah’s gentle voice say. I force my good eye open, as my other is now swollen shut. Even in this dim light I am able to make out the guilt that is all over his handsome face. I glance at the water bottle and gladly let him help me sip from it. It hurts, but I can feel how dehydrated my body is, so I’m grateful for the water. I can feel the blood drying on my skin making my flesh itch, and I have so many wounds and injuries at this point that my entire body is just raw with pain. “Keeping me alive so she can torture me more?” I ask in a croaky voice. Each movement of my mouth makes the cuts and contusion to my face ache and sting painfully. “I never wanted this, Heart. I didn’t have a choice,” he says, as if pleading for me to forgive him. “There’s always… a choice. I told you that night… all you had to do… was ask for my
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~ FLASHBACK A MONTH AGO~ “So since obviously, my answer is yes to being the awesome godmother of your baby boy, how’s about you give me the information I want?” I say getting back on track while I simultaneously monitor Alec and the dickhead following me. Mikhail chuckles, “A deal’s a deal. Get ready for this. Wasn’t easy to find but you came to the right place,” he boasts. I roll my eyes, “Spit it out already.” “So impatient. Anyway, I ran the background on this Alec Lowell, and you were right to be suspicious. I checked all the data of these sites and all the information you found was only input into the system a month ago, prior to that none of the information on Alec Lowell existed,” Mikhail informs me. I shake my head, “Explains the shadow and his apartment. I’m being set up.” “It looks that way, but I was able to run facial recognition software and though it seems like more information on your guy has been erased, they didn’t get all of it, and I’m better,” he praises himse
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Everything was peaceful and painless, and I was dreaming about the hikes I used to take with my family. The fact I was dreaming means I’m still alive and if that wasn’t proof enough, then the fact my body is shocked into a state of consciousness as I feel excruciating pain shoot through my neck, would be a dead giveaway. I feel disoriented and yet every pain receptor in my body feels like it’s been amped up to a thousand, so I can’t stop the scream that escapes me. I feel something sharp in my neck and the warmth of my own blood gliding down my skin. I try to move but I instantly realise my arms and legs are bound. What hell have I woken up to now? “Got it!” I hear a man’s voice declare. He sounds American “Good, now destroy it so no one can use it to track her and find her here,” says a woman’s voice… a familiar woman’s voice at that. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling against concrete and a door that needs some oil, opening and closing. There’s an echo when the door shuts indic
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Laying on the cot in the Red Room, I hold myself in the foetal position as agonising pain rips through my abdomen. I managed to stop throwing up and shitting my organs out long enough for them to bring me here and to add insult to injury, the nerve block in my feet has worn off, so right now, all I have is pain. My insides feel like they’re constricted and on fire, my hands are throbbing painfully as I clench them into fists to fight off the pain, and my feet feel like they’re on fire. I can feel the sweat soaking my hair and clothes and my breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. I bet Hexton was so proud of himself for putting me in here, thinking it would fuck with my head, but I barely even notice this stupid fucking Red Room because I’m distracted by pain. I’m probably going to die in this place. At this point it seems inevitable and yet I’m just not ready to give up. My parents survived hell just like this so they could come home to me, if I just give up, then they’ll be
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An answer to my question is given when another man enters my room, this time pushing the most compact, futuristic electric chair I’ve ever seen. It’s really just a small seat on top of big tyres, there’s not much to it, and nowhere near as bulky or cumbersome as the kind you see the elderly use. It has a joystick control, black leather lining and white exterior. I glare at the contraption with clear disdain. I’m reduced to an electric wheelchair because they won’t just let me go. Can’t walk or do shit, but still expected to make an appearance. I’ll be a sitting duck. Before the doctor administers the nerve block, he changes the bandages on my hands for a thinner, skin-coloured bandage, then the women help me into a one-shoulder floor-length lilac glittering sequined gown with a sweetheart bust and a slit up to my hip on my left side. It’s stunning and hugs my body perfectly. My hair is styled in a large intricate updo that appears full and voluminous while also being sleek. My nails m
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I feel myself start to wake up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. The more alert my senses become the more aware I am of the pain and heaviness radiating through my body. I feel like I was thrown off a cliff and smashed against jagged rocks over and over and over again, but that’s just my body. My feet are another story. Tears prick my shut eyes as the excruciating sensation of raw nerve endings being exposed hits me and I want to scream. The only thing stopping me is how weak I feel. I force my eyes open and thankfully am met by a dim light at the far end of the room. I can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping its infuriating rhythm, but one that reminds me I’m alive. I see several IV bags hung up, and as I attempt to glance down I notice the oxygen mask on my face. My body is wrapped up tight in shiny silver heat sheets and blankets like a little human burrito. Everything except my feet. My feet are suspended in harnesses, covered in some kind of cream. Even from here, I can s
