Rachel West is amongst London's most dangerous killers, and she's at the top of the food chain. f/f
“It’s not that I don’t have all the answers that’s bothering me. It is that I should know. Does that make sense?” She looked at me beady eyes and a sunken in face. I raise an eyebrow giving my trademark smile. She stood right beside me, towering above and giving the most disgusted stare she could muster. I smile. “Guess not.”
“I told you West, one more fail and its solitary!” She said loudly placing the upside down sheet of paper in front of me. As thick as the paper was, you could clearly make out an oversized ‘F’ written in red marker. I shrugged. ‘Great just what I need, more time to myself.’
“Why are you yelling?” I say and slide the paper from the top of my desk and onto the floor. I did not bother looking back at her; I was all too familiar with the beet red expressions she gave me. Her nun uniform made her look more stuffed than a teddy bear.
Relief washed over me as the bell rang, releasing us from the classroom type setting. As much as they tried to make it seem real, it wasn’t. The make shift school and thrown together dorm rooms, it was an elaborate escape plan waiting to happen. I strolled from the room. Concrete walls and wrapped around hollow corridors that had no exits. Oh sweet serenity.
I watched the others in single file lines being led to their rooms. The grey pants and shirt set is all to familiar. It was only on our side of the prison that they did that. Chains and cuffs at all times, they said. There were a few to be exceptions; I myself was one of them, and about six or seven others. They let us roam free around the compound as long as we were inside the red markers. Little red sticks placed in certain areas to give us a damn good jolt so that we did not mingle with anyone outside of ourselves.
I make a right then another right. Down an empty hallway then a left. There was a plastic room. It had eight beds with charts at the foot and four bathrooms. My bed was the furthest to the front on the right hand side.
Unlike on the normal side, where all they have are shiny metal bars to keep them in. They knew better than that. Instead, they kept us in something that much resembled a hamster cage. I guess it’s better that way, metal is pliable and plastic…well plastic is just a matter of time. There was a boy in the back and a girl sitting on the bed beside mine.
“Hello.” Hell of a greeting. I nodded at her, not bothering to turn my head. “How were your studies?”
“Alright I suppose.” I say lying back on my standard issue pillow and comforter set. They were also grey, like everything else. Individuality is a crime.
The day my family was murdered had to be the most…exciting thing of my life. They were there, all four of them, lined up like an execution line. My father, mum, baby sister and older brother, mutilated beyond recognition. I watched them beg for their lives as the murderer took them one by one. I guess it is kind of a bad thing to be elated about the murder of your only flesh and blood. It is not that I do not care, but more of a me not caring enough kind of thing.
When they caught me that night, I smiled. Threw me in the back of a truck and hauled me to a place with no lights and no sound. Stripped my clothes and kept me in a cage for 8 months. I was 14 but I guess I was one of the more obvious. Blood red eyes and massive fangs, not to mention the fact that I was covered in blood. It happens. Most of the others don’t have eyes like mine, theirs being violets, vibrant greens, blues and even a girl with pink eyes. They all mean something but I do not know. All I know is that we are stronger, faster, and supposedly lethal but the few I talk to were caught just walking down the street. Minding themselves and not harming anything else. On their way to schools, churches, home. They are the most resentful.
“Might as well not get comfortable. Courtyard is in ten.” The boy in the back yelled at me. I did not know his name but ten minutes is more than enough to rest my eyes. You would think that wielding the types of abilities we have would kind of make us knowledgeable about life and all that crap. That’s all balls if you ask me, most of these people are as smart as a sock full of nickels. It is painful to hold conversations but they have damn good instincts. I, myself, am just getting by on looks. Long black hair and a nice olive complexion never hurts to have.
I sit up as four more people march into the room. The first is a boy by the name of Rather Dashing. He was tall as I was and of Asian descent. His black hair was short and messy. He smiled and leapt on the bed directly across from mine. He was placed in here a few months after me, tried to hack on of the biggest banks in London. Behind him was Breigh Salum, she was incredibly short, standing below my shoulders standing on a chair. Her hair was light brown and it hung a little pass her shoulders. She was watching her baby sister on the playground while her mom was making dinner when she attacked from the side. Tragic. When she smiled, her teeth were slanted to the most awkward point. Moreover, do not get me started on that voice. The other two, I have no idea.
“So, did you check the new girl?” New girl? I furrowed my brow and glanced at Rather.
“New girl?” I repeat.
“Yeah, heard they caught her killing dogs.” He folded his legs in front of him. “Right outside of this place.” I nodded. “God knows what they’re doing to her. Poor unfortunate bastard.”
I laugh. “Can’t be any worst than what they are doing to us.” Actually I much rather be beat and tortured than be kept in a room with myself. I am a self-hating 19-year-old mess.
“She’s probably right.” Another yelled from the back. He was a red haired man with green eyes by the name of Michael Collins. Electric green, his chart said at the foot of his bed. He was a stocky guy that no one noticed. His fangs were bigger than mine and hung over his bottom lip. They say he was caught waiting for his son to get out of school, we would ask but he would never tell. “They give us hell, I say give it to someone else for a change.”
“Here, here.” Caitlyn Dylus. Quite possibly one of the most amazing woman I have ever met. Black hair and dazzling ocean eyes. She walked in and plopped on the cot-like bed beside Rathers’, who looked evilly at the Michael.
“Must you always take her side?” Michael looked off into the distance then nodded.
“Because I’m always right.” I confirm. Rather smiled.
“Nah, he just doesn’t want his arse kicked. Completely understandable.” I laughed loudly as Michael sneered. “Would be scared if I were you as well.” He readied his mouth to respond before the guards stepped in the room. . We all stood off the bed and greeted them properly by not making a sound. They walked in front of us with their black sticks in hand.
‘Gosh, could their pants be any tighter?’ Caitlyn’s voice rang through my head. I laughed to myself.
“Find something funny?” The man closest to me addressed. I looked at him with an arched eyebrow, which made him even madder. “You’d better watch yourself girly, or I just might pop you one.” I couldn’t help but smile again. He raised his paton to me and swung. I dunk and swept his legs from underneath him, watching as he plummeted to the ground. I grabbed the instrument before it hit the concrete and twirled it between my fingers. “You little…” He scrambled to get to his feet.
“That’s enough Harvey.” An officer by the name of Jimmy East yelled at him. He looked at me. “Rachel.” He held his hand out, helping up his colleague. I gave him the paton willingly. “Alright guys, let’s get a move on it.” He directed the others to leave the room first. They paired up and exited, Caitlyn smiling at me on the way out. Jimmy always walked with me to the courtyard. I don’t like anyone else.
“You have to learn to control yourself, Rach.” He said underneath his breath as we followed the group. Why?
“Why?” I could feel him practically burning a hole in the back of my head as I walked ahead.
It’s bright outside. We are lined up side by side, Rather and Michael on either side of me. They have us doing leg stretches. Grab your leg and count to 30. A simple task for some but the others across the concrete yard struggled with it. I laughed and watched them fall over or whine in agony. Rather was always the most amused.
“Look at them. Pathetic.” He said and Michael always responded.
“Well at least they are trying.” I’d roll my eyes at that comment, switching from my right leg to my left.
“I wonder if they do this with the normals.” I say. The wind was high today, sweeping my hair around my face. I dropped my leg letting it slide on the ground. I walked out of formation to the weight bench, bending over to pick up a loose circle of metal that read ‘200 lbs’ on it. Breigh followed me and started sliding on the circles from the other side. “Are you gonna spot me?”
“Yeah why not.” I slide underneath the metal bar and lift it easily. “Of course, don’t see why you need one. This is only half of what you bench.”
“Really don’t feel like stressing myself out.” I take it up and down a few times to get my rhythm, before counting. Breigh stands by my head with hands in her pockets. She shrugged and watched me lazily. I don’t blame her though. I don’t need much help.
I lifted for about 10 minutes before a body slammed across my mid-section, efficiently knocking the wind from me. I gagged and Breigh caught the bar quickly. I sat holding Caitlyn so she would not fall over.
“My ball went on the other side of the marker and those wankers won’t throw it back.” She said. I looked over at two boys, one with bright red ball in hand. I looked at her. Caitlyn wasn’t strong enough to cross the line without obtaining damage. The tiny chips in our top of our spines sent intense shocks of electricity into our brains. Disabling our motor functions enough so the guards could apprehend us. I, on the other hand, was and had crossed it several times before. I stood up and placed her on the ground. She came my chin standing. My first instinct was to take the weight from Breigh, marching over to the marker where the boys stood.
“What are you going to do with that?” Newbies, gotta love them. I smiled and stepped over it, fighting the urge to run. The pain is unimaginable for anyone else but my body is so used to the abuse that I am practically numb. The shocks so hard it turns my eyes completely black. The two boys were no longer smiling. They had to be no older that 15 or 16. Think you’re hot shit? Well, wait till you see this.
As soon as the electricity breaks it’s hold on me, I propel the weight as hard as I could. The one with the ball is who I aim for, catching him as he tried dunk. His body spun around as the metal struck him on the side of his head. He laid on the ground, blood pooling quickly as I dropped the bar, hearing the hollow thud as it hits the ground. The other boy stood and stared at me. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was incredible. I love this part.
The others raced to the markers to shield me from the site of the guards approaching. The ball rolled against my foot and I picked it up quickly stepping back over the marker before they broke through the crowd.
“Break it up, break it up.” Officer Harvey roared. He looked at the boy laying on the ground and back to the other. “What in God’s name happened here?” The boy looked at me and I shook my head, my eyes turning back to the usual deep red.
“He hit him. All of us saw him, we did.” Breigh yelled. “He’s mad I tell you.”
“Alright, grab him.” He commanded the other officers and they rushed and pushed him to the ground. I watched him wince in pain as they tazed him vigorously. Caitlyn walked up beside me and took the ball from my grip. She smiled at me.
Maybe this is not what our strength is for, but it sure feels like it.
End of Chapter One.