Ten Sigma

by A W Wang

  A tense moment passes before he nods.

  The pads emit a long sigh as my bottom sinks onto their chilly surfaces.

  After Syd settles next to me, he pulls off his underwear. As I try not to watch, his eyes close, his face wrinkling in concentration. Seconds later, the weird expression fades and he turns, his erect penis rubbing against my thigh.

  My shoulders press into the clammy brick wall as I shrink away. “How did you do that?”

  “Relax, you won’t be able to feel anything tonight, so just enjoy what’s coming.” He shoves his mouth onto mine.

  Scrunching my lips, I twist from the sloppy kiss. “Secret.”

  A heavy sigh rolls over my shoulder. “You use the blue liquid in the cafeteria to expand your mind.”

  Despite my skin crawling as his fingers trace a line on my cleavage, I snort.

  “You expect me to believe that glop gets you horny?”

  He grabs my cut hand then pinches it to draw a drop of blood.

  “Ouch!”

  I’m more shocked when he licks it off.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Through a red-tainted smile, he says, “This is how you use it. By imagining the taste of sex.”

  “Really? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “That’s the truth. Its power is greater than reproducing eating sensations. The blue liquid enhances the desires in your brain, especially for sex and violence.”

  Although super creepy, the ideas are way outside of the box, and I grudgingly credit Syd for his creativity. “How did you discover that?”

  “Oh, I’m a multi-talented individual.” He scoots backward and pulls my lower body from the wall. With excitement brimming in his eyes, he pushes me flat on the cushions.

  “Blood makes you think of sex?”

  After he swivels on me, his body heat seeping uncomfortably into my skin, he replies, “Sex and violence intertwine. One triggers the other. The scenarios get easier too. You’ll see. A lot of avenues will open for you.”

  “Like what?”

  Desire laces his answer. “I enjoy sex. I love killing. Just wait until you try it. With your natural talents, fighting will become trivial. You’ll see how entertaining the scenarios become.” A devilish grin creases his face.

  I’ve fought and killed, but somehow his statements scare me more than anything about combat.

  “But—”

  His finger presses against my lips. “I’ll explain more after we do this.”

  I clench my teeth, trying not to cringe as his hands wander down my body, sliding the band covering my breasts to my panties and then yanking both strips of material past my legs.

  After tossing them aside, Syd stares at my nakedness, saying in a husky voice, “Everything is more perfect than I imagined.”

  Not into the act or compliments, I shy from the attention, trying to control my apprehension.

  He rises over me, wedging between my legs and prying them apart.

  “Stop, I’m not ready. Stop!”

  The gentleman voice emerges, saying, “I know you’re not into this right now.”

  “This isn’t how I thought things would turn out.” Embarrassed by my next words, I sigh. “But I guess you were right; this is for the best.”

  He offers a sly grin. “Don’t be sad. We were destined to be together.”

  The confidence underlying the statement sends the dancing spiders stinging into my nape and running down my spine.

  I’m missing something.

  “That’s wonderful,” I reply, searching for a distraction to hide my fears. Although the idea is nauseating, I put my hand on his spiky hair and push downward. “Spend a little time there.”

  Warm to the innuendo, he slithers down my body.

  My legs tremble, but after he begins, I relax. Surprisingly, it feels like nothing. Except for my revulsion of Syd and the sounds coming from his actions, the whole awkward situation is as exciting as watching paint dry.

  Grasping for clues, I say, “So, I guess this wouldn’t be happening if Rick didn’t die.”

  The mound of spiky hair bobbing between my thighs doesn’t answer.

  “Simon died too, but I don’t feel bad about that. He would have gotten everyone killed.”

  Syd pokes his head up. A blissful countenance covers his face, his eyes yearning with lust.

  It reminds me of the stupid expression he wears when sipping the blue liquid. No, not stupid. The peculiar look is powered by the impulses of violence and sex in his fantasies.

  My jaw clenches. The lewd thoughts were about me…

  And I didn’t think I could feel any worse.

  “What?” Syd asks.

  Relieved to change my focus, I say, “About Rick and Simon dying.”

  “I’m glad they’re both gone.”

  Both Rick and Simon dead by the hand of the seven sigma.

  The notion is odd, but she’s the only enemy ever to talk to me, and she knew things she shouldn’t have. During the following whirlwind and under the stress of leadership, I haven’t pondered any misgivings. Could she have spoken with Syd? And what would they have talked about?

  I push his head back down.

  This time, he uses his fingers, which along with his rough breaths and sloppy licks give tickling sensations more than anything sensual.

  As the cringe-worthy moments pass, a plan develops in my mind. Syd is holding something back. But trying to match his deviousness would be a losing proposition.

  Although scary, my sole advantage stems from his lust-filled obsession for me, and the path to his secrets lies in dragging his thoughts down into the cesspool of his most depraved desires.

  Syd raises his head. “We’re ready.”

  I check and amazingly, my body has responded to his actions. “How did you do that?”

  After he plants a last kiss, he says with a grin, “I told you, I’m a man of many talents.”

  My lips wrinkle and not just at the implications of his statement.

  He pulls himself up. While he settles on me, I regain the initiative by twisting and reaching between his legs.

  A moan leaves his mouth as I wrap my fingers around him.

  “Should we be feeling guilty?” I ask.

  “Why?”

  As my hand gently rubs up and down, I say, “Because this wouldn’t be happening if Rick and Simon hadn’t died.”

  “Those two were lesser talents who didn’t survive.”

  “But you don’t feel guilty?”

  His eyes focus—a bad sign.

  Guiding his hand to my breast, I say, “It’s sad to think this way, but things might be better because Rick is dead. Does that make me an evil person?”

  When Syd ponders, I quickly add, “I mean, I’d like to thank that seven sigma.”

  “Really?”

  As he roughly squeezes and runs his hand over my chest and down to my navel, I let out a long moan, which I hope sounds sexy.

  “I’m surprised you’re aroused,” he says.

  My battle sense kicks in because I’m pushing too far too fast. “Not that much,” I say with contrition. “But, this would be better if I was more excited.”

  “Sex will be simple after you use the blue liquid, but for now, concentrate on violence,” he says and moves his mouth to my breasts.

  As he slurps, I force away disgust. “Imagine how amazing this will be when my sex drive comes back. The things I’ll do for you. With my hands. With my mouth. Is that what you fantasize about?”

  “That and more,” he says with lust creeping back into his voice.

  I tighten my fingers, tugging harder. “Tell me.”

  His eyes glisten as he replies, “I want to pound myself inside you. To hammer you until you scream with ecstasy and plead for mercy. To teach you things you’ve never dreamed about. To—”

  “That’s wonderful,” I say, partially to retain control but mostly from not wanting to hear any more of the lurid details running through his he
ad. “Stay with those thoughts. Imagine everything you’ve ever wanted to do to me.”

  He grunts with a malicious smirk.

  After forcing a smile, I say, “Now, let yourself go.”

  I gasp through clenched teeth when he slaps my breast, squeezing the areola between his fingers and twisting. Before I can overcome the shock, he bites into my shoulder.

  A whimper leaves my lips.

  When he rises, his fantasy expression from drinking the blue liquid reappears.

  Fearful of what I’m unleashing, I brace myself and say with a rougher tone, “Do it again, harder.”

  Instantly, Syd dips his head and stabs his teeth into the softness below my collarbone while his hand clutches my breast, his thumb and forefinger crushing and rolling the nipple.

  I grimace, stifling a groan from the excruciating pain.

  After he finishes abusing my flesh, blood drips down his chin while hunger fills his gaze.

  Good.

  Trying to mimic the heaviness of his breathing and layer sensuality onto my voice, I say, “You can take me any way you want. Use this perfect body in any way you can imagine.”

  He tenses, his organ hardening into steel. As his breath rolls out in deep gasps, he angrily slams his pelvis against my lower body. “I need to be inside you.”

  To fight off his impatience, I squeeze my fingers, digging the thumbnail into the head of his erection.

  A sigh of pleasure oozes from his lips as his eyes roll from the ecstasy of the pain.

  Now!

  “You like that. You want me to be like you? To love what you love about sex and violence?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell me everything. No secrets, I want to be just like that,” I reply, shifting to allow his erection to settle onto my vulva. “You want this, right?”

  Although his lips scrunch and his brows furrow, he bobs his head.

  “What did you and the seven sigma talk about?”

  When he doesn’t immediately respond, I add, “You hated Rick and Simon, didn’t you?”

  He quickly nods.

  “I think you were right to hate them. That seven sigma did us a favor.” To drive him over the edge, I tighten my grip and guide him short of entering me. “Be honest. I need to know what you did so I can do it too.”

  His glazed eyes wander to my face.

  Against all I hold dear, I meet his stare. “Remember, no secrets. Then everything you’ve dreamed of and more is yours.”

  Intoxicated by my blood and wallowing in blue liquid fueled desires, he doesn’t notice the suspicion seeping into my voice. He huskily replies, “It was me. I made a tiny mention of where Rick would attack and who to shoot.”

  “That’s so sexy,” I say, rubbing the tip over the entrance. “Tell me the rest and I’m yours.”

  The words arrive between heavy pants. “In the swamp, I could have acted faster. I should have saved you from getting shot.”

  I nibble at his neck and chin, ignoring the taste of my blood. “The wound’s healed, but I don’t understand your meaning.”

  When he hesitates, I bring him to the point of penetration. “Just explain, and this will happen.”

  His pelvis rears as he says, “The ambush, I had it mapped out. When you fired on them, I could have coordinated, but I waited.”

  On the last word, he thrusts, but I twist and shove my hand over my privates, shaking with rage.

  He let Ally and Jock die.

  “What?” he says through a lust-filled haze.

  Putting my free hand under his chin, I push him aside and then still trembling, roll to my feet.

  Ugh! I almost let him inside me.

  While I use my shivering hands to wipe every place he soiled on my body, my thoughts whirl. I can scarcely believe it, but his obsession with me combined with the urges of the blue liquid clouded his judgment enough to share the awful truth. How could I have been so stupid? Regardless of what happens, Syd will sacrifice everyone until only the two of us remain in some unimaginably twisted partnership. I’m not saving anyone; I’m only guaranteeing the inevitable.

  As the arousal infecting his demeanor fades into bewilderment, Syd props himself on a knee. “Why should these people mean anything to you? If I hadn’t taken action, Rick would have gotten us butchered. Protecting everyone else will get us killed too. I’d do everything over again. I’m glad they’re gone.”

  “They trusted you as a teammate.”

  After Syd wipes the red drips from his lower lip and chin, the gentleman persona returns. “Brin, let’s be sensible about this. The women I’ve bedded, the others on the team, none of them matter, especially fools like Rick. Only you’re special to me.”

  While he believes his decisions are perfectly rational, I drill him with a right cross when he rises to follow me.

  He falls with surprise plastered on his face. As he pushes himself upright, his eyes narrow with anger.

  I back from the alcove, unsure if he’s going to attack and more unsure if I can defeat him in single empty-handed combat.

  Instead of pursuing, he hesitates, embroiled in another internal argument. Then his expression hardens as he rises. “These other idiots would be dead if it weren’t for us. Us!” he says, thumping his chest. “I know the odds are tough, but together, we’ll make it to the actual world.”

  I reach down and pick up the thin bands of my clothing. As I frantically tug them back over my body, I decide what painfully needs to be done.

  “Haiku. Haiku!” I scream.

  A pop, loud in the secluded space, signals her arrival. “What is the meaning of this altercation?”

  “Nothing,” Syd says, still naked.

  After adjusting the sheer material to cover as much skin as possible, I turn to the avatar. “That’s not true.”

  While she waits with a placid stare, I take a deep breath. The solution isn’t teaming up with Syd; the solution is getting everyone as far from him as possible.

  “Syd and I have irreconcilable differences.”

  Her eyes blink in surprise, and then she faces Syd. “Is this true?”

  “No.” Palms outward, he raises his hands. “This is something we can handle. We don’t require your help.”

  I shout in an angrier and crazier tone than I intend, “Split up everyone. Syd and I can never go on another mission together.”

  Syd reverts to the gentleman persona. “Haiku, bring the rest of our original team here.”

  Before I can object to the unfair tactic, Haiku waves and Suri, Walt, and Vela, appear with confused looks. They probably assumed they would materialize into the ready room.

  “Brin wishes to break up the team,” Haiku announces. “In order to keep the peace, all will be sent to different teams in different sanctuaries.”

  “Why?” Walt asks with trepidation.

  Suri looks first at me and then to naked Syd, guessing what happened. “Don’t do this Brin, we can work through these issues.”

  If only we could. She doesn’t know Syd as well I do. Nobody does. I lock eyes with Walt’s fearful stare. There is nothing I can do to comfort him.

  Syd speaks in his most charming voice, “This is a tiny misunderstanding. Suri’s right, Brin. There’s no reason for this.”

  Vela says, “Brin? Let’s stay together. It’s our only chance to reach ten sigmas.”

  “Quite true,” Syd adds, ignoring every last thing he just said about these people. Stunned by how sincere he sounds, I’m tempted to believe him too.

  “We can’t do this without you,” Walt adds in a helpless voice.

  I harden my resolve because, with Syd as a teammate, they’re dead anyway. At least on their own, they have a fighting chance. It hurts me to think like that, but a hidden enemy like Syd is far worse than anything anyone could face in a scenario.

  “A thousand enemies outside the house are better than one within,” a black thread chirps, unnecessarily quoting an old Arab proverb.

  Sorrowfully shaking my head
, I turn to Haiku. “This issue can’t be fixed. End the team.”

  “So be it.”

  As my remaining friends, whom I dearly love, scream protests, sparks flow over their bodies and they dissipate into the ether.

  I hope they understand.

  Thirty-One

  After the others vanish, Haiku is my only companion in the deserted museum. While the little avatar looks satisfied, I’m haunted by the final expressions of my only friends in this universe.

  I ask, “Did you go with them too?”

  “No, there’s only one of me, and I preferred to remain with you.”

  “That’s so touching.”

  Not noticing the sarcasm laced in my reply, she says, “You took the wise course of action by breaking up the team.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the others were holding you back. It was a prudent decision to get rid of them.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  My hands curl into fists as she responds. “The emotional bonds you created with your teammates are stifling the progress of your acclimation. This program isn’t designed to produce great teams, the success of your group notwithstanding. The goal of this program is to identify exceptional people. Your friends are irrelevant to your individual accomplishment.”

  “Then why have the team?”

  “To make you immune to losing people you are close to,” she says with complete innocence.

  My fist rises, and I punch her square in the nose.

  Her silver outfit shimmers as she passes under a light and flies into the far wall. Like a balloon, she rebounds unharmed.

  Furious with the results, I surrender to my rage and leap after her, sending blows into her body while screaming, “They were my friends. Not a set of statistics. And I wanted to save them.”

  After each attack, she remains unscathed, impervious to any force I can deliver.

  As my frustrations mount, I channel more fury into ever wilder swings and kicks. One hand breaks when I miss the bounding avatar and shatter the armless Greek goddess. The toes on my left foot plow under her and snap, fracturing a wall. Knocking the supplicating king to the tiles with a mistimed punch, I destroy three fingers from my other hand. My ankle twists after I kick a pedestal, toppling a huge marble warrior. His shield shatters into jagged pieces over the floor. Ignoring the injuries to my annoyingly perfect body, I hobble after the waif, a one-woman machine, demolishing artwork and furniture from my formerly favorite place with reckless abandon.