by Aella Black
The walls were painted white. The tiles on the floor were white. Even the ceiling was white. Only one wall stood out, because it had an enormous one-way glass mirror. They didn’t even try to hide it.
So my mother was watching. And some of the guards. Who else enjoyed watching kids try to destroy one another?
My breathing sounded loud against the silence of the room. I cleared my throat just to give my ears something to pick up besides my ragged breath.
Who was my opponent? I thought of all the inmates I knew and what powers they possessed. For every one of those, there were a dozen more I didn’t know. My mind raced with the possibilities.
The door opened, and another girl stumbled in. The door slammed behind her, creating an echo. Her gaze locked on mine. I recognized her as the tall girl with ebony hair who played dodgeball with us. One of Dane’s friends.
Great. She already knew how inept and unathletic I was. And judging from the curl of her lips, she was confident she could take me. I was equally confident, even if she didn’t have a power. Which she did, or she wouldn’t be here.
I racked my brain, trying to remember her power. Did she ever mention it? I didn’t think so. Why hadn’t I spent more time learning about the Lansing inmates’ powers?
A voice crackled over the speakers—my mother’s. “Phoebe Atkinson and Raven Slater, thank you for your participation in today’s sparring session. We have a new set of rules for this particular match. You may fight to the death, although that is not required. You may begin.”
Raven’s eyes widened. Clearly this wasn’t something she’d encountered before. Her face was an open book of confusion, fear, followed by glee.
I swallowed thickly. I really wished I knew this girl’s power. Then at least I could prepare myself for what was coming.
No sooner had I assumed the stance Rocky taught me than I found out. Raven extended her right arm, and I watched, dumbfounded, as her hand dissolved into black goop that shot out at me like Spider-Man’s web. The sticky substance hit me in the face and I screamed, but, fortunately, I had the presence of mind to tear it off quickly.
The moment I’d gotten the goop off, Raven’s left arm swung out and she sent more my way. It was a direct hit on my mouth, which I instinctively clamped closed, not wanting the black stuff inside.
And that seemed to be Raven’s goal.
She rushed at me, knocking me to the ground. Probing my lips with one hand, she used the other to try to force the goop inside. Was she going to force it down my throat? Block off my air passage and suffocate me?
I recalled the all-too-recent-feeling of not being able to breathe. Water was bad enough, so the thought of this stuff choking me to death spurred me into action.
Raven gasped when I kicked her between the legs. Then I kicked her again in the stomach—hard.
It worked.
She rolled away from me, and I leapt to my feet. Not taking my eyes off her, I backed up several feet while trying to remove the gunk from my face.
Raven growled. Now she was angry.
Well, guess what? So was I.
She held a half-goop, half-flesh hand to where I’d kicked her and glared at me. “You’ll regret that,” she said, pushing up from the floor. “I’ll wipe that smug look right off your pretty little face.”
“You think I’m pretty? Thanks.”
I shouldn’t be taunting her, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Putting some distance between us had made me cocky.
Raven shot out another string of goop, as if to remind me she didn’t need to be near to make me pay. Except the space did give me more time to react. I ducked to the side just in time, and the sticky stuff splattered against the wall.
She snarled. “You have privilege written all over you. I bet you were a spoiled brat before you came here.”
I was thinking about how incorrect that statement was instead of diving out of the way like I should have. Raven’s other hand flung more gunk in my direction, and I only had time to cover my face with my arm. It took the hit and stuck until I ripped it off and then ran. I needed to get as far away from her as I could while I worked out a plan.
“Mommy and Daddy gave you everything your little heart desired, didn’t they?” She strolled toward me like she had all the time in the world. For all I knew, she did. “You probably cried like a baby when you were locked up here.”
Before I could correct her—because, oh, how wrong she was—Raven threw goop out both of her hands simultaneously. This time, I was too slow.
The unnatural substance struck both sides of my face. While I was busy reaching up to get it off, she rushed at me, knocked me to the ground, and straddled me. Grabbing me by the cheeks, goop began oozing toward my nostrils and my mouth.
I threw a punch and it landed on her face. Ow!
Raven pulled back in surprise, which gave me just enough time to tear the stuff from my face. “You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped.
Because if she did, she would know that my “Mommy” couldn’t care less about me, as evidenced by the fact that I was fighting for my life while she watched this entire exchange from the safety of the next room.
“I know that I’m gonna kill you,” Raven seethed, wiping away a trickle of blood from her lip using her sleeve. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Oh, I had no doubt. I could see it in her eyes. Problem was, I didn’t want to kill her. I’d defend myself, but no way was I killing someone. It wasn’t like she could come back to life.
With a cry, Raven’s goopy hands shot out, but I was ready. Swiping them away from my face with my left arm left her exposed, if only for a moment. I punched her again in the face, which knocked her off balance, and then in the stomach.
She curled into a fetal position, and I crawled to my knees and stood. Marching toward the black mirror, I called out, “Is that it? Are you happy now?”
No answer.
“I’m not fighting to death, if that’s what you want!”
“But I am.”
Raven’s slimy hand came from behind, wrapping around my mouth and nose. I struggled, but I was pulled backward until my head was pressed against her chest. “You were wrong to underestimate me, princess,” she said in my ear. “Now they can all watch while I choke the life out of you.”
The black glass loomed in front of me. If I was a princess in this scenario, my mother was the queen. Would she stop this if it went too far?
Though I didn’t like it, I knew the answer to that. After all, she was the one who gave us the green light to kill one another.
I tried tearing the goop off like I did before, but now it was hardening on my face. Sticky fingers pried past my lips and tried to work their way between my tightly clenched teeth. I was tempted to bite her but too afraid giving Raven an opening would be a deadly mistake.
Her other fingers slid up to my nose and poked inside my nostrils. Panic and anger surged through me. I twisted and flailed, ripping my body out of her grip.
This time, I would make sure she went down and stayed down.
My fists flew, each punch aimed with precision at Raven’s face, now slack with shock. Even if I broke both of my hands, it would be worth it.
She fell with a shriek, and I jumped on top of her, pinned her down, and punched until my knuckles were covered in blood. I didn’t know if it was mine or hers, and I didn’t care.
She screamed for me to stop, and I threw one more punch before standing and giving her a swift kick in the ribs. “Stay down,” I growled.
Raven gasped for air, her face a bloody mess.
Like Xander.
My anger faded. What have I done?
My mother’s voice slithered through the speakers. “Congratulations, Phoebe. You have won this match. Raven will be escorted to the medical wing.”
The steel door opened and two guards walked in. One hauled the bloodied girl to her feet and dragged her away. Saul grinned at me, smoke oozing from his nostrils. “Nice work. Even if I still ha
ve no clue what your power is.” He shrugged. “Come with me.”
Turning toward the black mirror, I stared at it with a look that could not be mistaken. Whoever was watching deserved to rot in the same hell they put us through. I hated every last one of them—my mother included.
At dinner, I spotted Lucy and Cathy sitting with Dane. Seeing him reminded me that he beat up Xander today. That made him the enemy in my book.
Lucy waved me over, but I kept walking until I found a table of my own. I was looking forward to some solitude. I’d barely had a moment alone since arriving at Lansing, and it didn’t help that the people I saw day in and day out weren’t the ones I really wanted to spend time.
Stabbing the dry meatloaf, I recalled seeing Xander earlier. Specifically, his bloody, swollen face. It made me sick to my stomach. Literally.
A tray clattered next to mine. “Hey, what’s the deal?” Dane asked as he sat down.
I shifted away from him. “I know what you did to Xander.”
“And?”
My blood boiled. Taking the bait, I said, “And there was no reason for you to assault him like that.”
“Oh yeah? Does that mean you had no reason to clobber Raven?”
I practically fell off my seat. Not because of shock, though I was surprised he already knew. It appeared word traveled even more quickly at this prison than the last one.
But because he was right.
And yet he was wrong.
Whether Raven knew it or not, our fight was structured to test my power. In order for me not to die, I had to put her out of commission. The only other option was to willingly let her kill me. What kind of choice was that?
Then it occurred to me.
I’d won my first sparring match. And it felt horrible.
Did Dane feel this way? He certainly didn’t act like it.
I set down my fork, no longer hungry. Apparently, guilt and shame were powerful appetite suppressants.
Dane sighed. “Look, your buddy put up a good fight. But one of us had to stay down, you know?”
I did know. But I was still pissed. Though now, I was pretty sure he wasn’t the one I was angry at.
He reached out and touched my hand. “It’s not like I killed the guy. Why’re you upset? You did the same exact thing.”
I flinched. Okay, now I was mad at him.
Ripping my hand away, I hissed, “Just stay away from me.” Then I stood and marched to the nearest trash can, where I proceeded to dump the contents of my tray.
Colliding thoughts swirled inside my head, each worse than the one before. What stood out was the violence we were forced to inflict and endure. But was it all forced?
I’d seen a hunger in Raven’s eyes, the eagerness she displayed at the prospect of killing me. And to my knowledge, she had no idea that wouldn’t have been permanent.
Had Dane looked at Xander like that while he was using him as a human punching bag? Did I look like that when I hit Raven?
Lansing was turning us all into monsters.
I worried I already was one.
9
Xander
We’d been prisoners at Lansing for a week.
I hadn’t seen Phoebe again since moments after my first and only fight. It wasn’t exactly the lasting impression I wanted to leave her with. My face was almost healed now. My pride, not so much.
Apparently, Phoebe was doing pretty well though.
Word got around quickly here—especially about matches—and it wasn’t long before everyone heard about her “win” over the girl with the black, sticky hands. I knew Phoebe could hold her own, but I was surprised to hear she’d pummeled the girl pretty good. I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but I was relieved to hear her first victory earned her respect among the Lansing inmates. That could only help, and she needed all the help she could get here.
Thanks to occasional updates from Cathy, it seemed they were getting along okay with the help of their new friends. Cathy rarely mentioned Dane now, and if she did, it was only to lament that they weren’t hanging out with him as often anymore.
Fine by me.
I’d wondered more than a time or two whether my admission that Dane beat me had something to do with that. I didn’t regret telling her if it did.
Meanwhile, losing my first match sent me sliding down the food chain. Not that I really cared as long as my friends were safe. Which, so far, they were.
Birdie hadn’t had to spar. Not yet anyway. I’d been trying to prepare myself for when she did so I wouldn’t completely lose my mind. Because despite efforts to keep my distance, I felt protective of the young girl. She reminded me of a lamb in a den of lions, hungry for blood and not picky about whose they shed.
Rocky had an easy time of it, since stones were left in the room where she fought. Seemed whoever was behind these matches really wanted to see her power in action. According to her, they got what they wanted.
Cal lucked out too and was paired with Venom. Turned out, alcohol wasn’t the only liquid that didn’t have an effect on the easygoing surfer. Venom’s poison was useless against Cal, and without that, Venom was at Cal’s mercy.
I didn’t think Cal had a tendency toward bloodlust, but Venom didn’t give those bruises to himself. Still, Venom had mad respect for Cal now, probably because he was the first person who wasn’t incapacitated by his power.
Tex wasn’t so lucky.
It seemed they tried to match us up pretty fairly for our first rounds, but who did you pair with a guy who could only change the color of objects? Phoebe’s cellmate, Lucy, evidently.
I was glad it wasn’t me. The way Tex described it, her hallucinations made you want to “run hollerin’ for the hills and hang yourself.” As if the mental beating she gave him wasn’t enough, Lucy knocked him out with an unknown object while he was off in la-la land. The fight was over, but the knot on his head would be remain for a while to remind him of it.
Gnawing on a slice of cardboard pizza, I waited while my friends joined me for lunch. Rocky slammed her tray down. “I saw Dane on the way over here. Prick.”
“Whoa, what’d he do to you?” Tex asked, eyes wide.
“He didn’t do anything, but I know his type,” she shot back. “Can’t trust him. Thinks he can get by on looks alone.”
“Pretty sure he can get by with his power,” I grumbled.
Cal shrugged. “I bet the dude’s not too bad. Cathy’s okay with him. How bad can he be?”
Rocky scowled. “I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust anyone around here,” Tex agreed.
“Cathy says he’s really nice,” Birdie piped up beside me. “Stands up to bullies.”
Rocky scoffed. “An act.”
“You don’t know the dude,” Cal said. “Other than beating up Xander, what has he done?”
I wondered if Cal’s defense of Dane was rooted in guilt. He’d also assaulted another inmate during a fight, so maybe he was trying to justify his actions in a roundabout way.
Unsurprisingly, Rocky had no problem taking someone down. “Are you saying that’s not enough of a reason to hate on him?” she countered.
A little spot in my weary heart warmed. “Aw, Rocky. I didn’t know you felt that way,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “My point is, Dane is a sleaze, and I think Phoebe and Cathy should stay away from him.”
I secretly agreed. Then again, I was biased. After all, the guy had kicked my butt in my first-ever match and was a little too friendly with Phoebe. He could have stood up to Wolf, and I’d still have hated the guy.
Which reminded me…
No one knew what had happened to our former arch-enemy. He never turned up in our rotation, and Cathy said he wasn’t in theirs either. She seemed to think he left Leavenworth separately from all of us. As terrible as Wolf was, I had a sinking feeling that something bad had happened to him. He’d killed a guard, and if that wasn’t grounds for getting eliminated, I didn’t know what was.
; We finished our lunch and were walking down the hallway toward the guys’ cells when Heath stopped me in the hallway. “You’re up again today,” he said.
My stomach somersaulted. I really wished I hadn’t just eaten.
“Good luck,” Tex said.
“You’ve got this, dude.” Cal gave me a high-five, but I had no desire to return it. “Just do what they say and don’t think about it.”
Is that what you did? How’s that working out for you? I wanted to ask him. But, of course, I didn’t.
Instead, I followed Heath down the hall and through the medical wing. As we neared the room where I sparred last time, he said, “If it makes you feel any better, all bets are on you. No matter who you’re fighting.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You all are betting on us? Who?” I asked through clenched teeth.
Heath had the decency to look ashamed. “Um, just the guards. Maybe some of the scientists, too.”
Okay, that was just wrong. Not that anything here was right, but this was really, really wrong.
And why would they bet on me when I lost my first fight? Did that mean Dane was considered the most powerful supernatural at Lansing?
“Hey, Chief.” Standing guard at the door was Nash, the guard who could swipe superpowers. Or freeze them or something. I still wasn’t quite sure how his power worked.
“Hey.” My voice sounded dead to my own ears.
“Why the long face?” He knocked me in the shoulder like we were good buddies. “It’ll be over quick. She doesn’t stand a chance against you.”
I was going to be sick. Maybe if I threw up my lunch, I’d get a free pass today.
A wave of calm washed over me, and my stomach felt settled once again. Heath.
The guy probably thought he was doing me a favor. “Do what you gotta do.” He nodded at me and then opened the steel door.
Reluctantly, I stepped inside. Heath shouldn’t have wasted the effort, since my stomach was now in the vicinity of my throat.
Cathy.
Her eyes widened, and relief followed by sheer terror shone straight into my soul. I never wanted a friend to look at me that way again.
