Tainted Blood Anthology

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Tainted Blood Anthology Page 86

by Jeff Gunzel


  Viola stepped left, right, her movements quick and concise while blocking and dodging his wild swings. Even with both hands gripping her pommel, the heavy blows were starting to add up. Each successful block carried with it the price of absorbing such power. But even with fatigue setting in, her hands and arms tingling from contact, she kept her breathing steady while focusing on the center of his chest. Driven by rage, his form had gone to pieces. She could see each obvious blow coming from a mile away with plenty of time to react. His strength was still a problem, but even that was losing steam with each swing.

  To the others, the blazing-fast dance looked chaotic and savage, weapons slamming together at impossible speeds while Viola zipped from side to side. Umoro raged on, firing off from multiple angles as he roared. A man that size had no business moving like that. In completely opposite fashion, Viola slipped each strike with flowing, subtle movements, blocking only when needed. One step back, one step left, then a duck followed by six consecutive blocks. The dance was surreal. It was as if she knew where the strikes were going before he did. Patience, she reminded herself. He’s slowing. Even the proud lion can’t resist the temptation of a wounded animal.

  With his breath coming in rasping gasps, Umoro swung his sword down as if chopping wood. She blocked, the impact rattling down her arms and shaking her very core. Wind milling around, he looped his blade down again. Crack... She blocked again, appearing to get her weapon back up just in time. Again he hammered down, saliva hanging from his wide-open mouth as he gasped for precious air. Crack... Viola dropped to one knee, both hands clutching her weapon by both the pommel and blade. He saw her weakened, helpless and beaten. She was fading fast. He was going to overpower her.

  He saw...a wounded animal.

  “I’ll crush your skull!” he roared, bloodshot eyes crazed with power. Looping his sword one last time, he brought it down with everything he had. Down on one knee, Viola rolled her wrists at the last possible second, deflecting the blow wide. Having overcommitted with all his weight behind the strike, he nearly stumbled down on top of her. For an instant, their faces were close. He looked into her calm eyes and saw a warrior who was anything but beaten. The feint had worked perfectly. Like a coiled spring, she launched herself from her bent knee. Driving with all her strength, the top of her head slammed the bottom of Umoro’s jaw like a hammer.

  Severed by his own teeth, the tip of his tongue tumbled through the air in a mist of red. He stumbled back, spitting several broken teeth onto the sand. Not hesitating, Viola stepped in and drove the hilt of her blade into his gut. He wheezed as the last of his air rushed from his lungs. She dropped low, ducking a wild right hook while smashing her elbow into his knee. Umoro would have cried out had he any air to do so. Dropping his weapon, face contorted in agony, he toppled backward while holding his knee. Viola pounced like a cat, leaping onto his massive chest, her knees pinning down his shoulders.

  She glanced up and saw Kalmton’s motionless body sprawled on the sand. The fire inside her reignited, its roaring heat threatening to consume her. Fear and loneliness she was quite familiar with, but raw hate was an alien sensation, one she knew little about. But this time it came easy. She had already killed one man, a man who didn’t deserve to die. Umoro was a different case altogether. It should have been you!

  She raised her blade above his head. “Yield!” she shrieked, her hollow, ghostly voice echoing out across the pit. Without even waiting for an answer, she smashed the bottom of her hilt into his face. Instantly, his eye swelled shut. “Yield, or I’ll be the last thing you ever see!” She drove it down again, his teeth crunching beneath the weapon’s impact.

  In truth, she didn’t want him to give up. That would be too easy. Nor did she care about winning. She wanted to kill him, to silence this barbarian forever so he could never hurt anyone ever again. The thought sickened her, but she couldn’t deny her true feelings either. Maybe I am the monster they say I am. But you’re worse. You don’t deserve to live!

  Lost in her own rage, she smashed his face again and again. Her violence held no purpose now; it was just an outlet to vent all of her fears, all of her emotion. She had lost friends that were close to her. She had been tortured without really understanding why, and was being held prisoner because of her brother’s betrayal. She had been forced to commit murder! All her emotion, her sadness and rage, was being channeled into a single act of aggression. She hated Umoro, yet hated herself more. What had she become?

  Sounds bubbled up through Umoro’s broken face in the form of wet gurgles slipping through a blood-filled mouth. After a sudden jolt, Viola toppled off the fallen warrior, her weapon skidding across the sand. Fists trembling, she looked up into Salina’s eyes as she lay on top of her. “Stop. It’s over,” Salina whispered, her face only an inch away from Viola’s. “He gave up. You won, Viola.”

  Only half conscious, Umoro continued to mumble the same phrase. “I yield... I yield...” The slurred words bubbled from his sticky, blood-covered mouth. Healers came charging from the tunnel, each holding their vials of light-blue liquid. They needed to hurry. Their healing potions could do wonders for even the gravest injuries, but wouldn’t work on the dead. Two rushed to aid Umoro, while another one bent down near Kalmton.

  Wide-eyed, Viola stared at Salina. She felt lost, confused, as if all her actions leading up to this moment had been done by someone else. It was like she was more a witness to the carnage than a participant of it herself. She looked at her hands stained with blood, her fingers sticky. With disbelief wearing off, the reality of her actions setting in, she threw her head back and wailed. Salina held her close as she sobbed. “You did it, Viola,” Salina said, rocking her from side to side, head pressed into her chest. “It had to be you. We could accept no other outcome. Viola, I am so proud of you. We are going to get through this, I promise you.”

  Salina tipped Viola’s head back from her chest and wiped a tear with her thumb. Smiling, she dipped her head, gesturing to something over her shoulder. Viola followed Salina’s gaze to see Kalmton sitting up on his own, a healer adding drops of blue liquid to the rapidly closing head wound. Viola barked out a strangled laugh before her sobbing intensified again. But this time, they were tears of joy. Relief washed over her like ocean water.

  *

  The evening meal was loud and boisterous. Tonight was cause for celebration. And even if it wasn’t, it was the best they’d felt since their arrival in this prison. So why not? After gathering everyone’s silverware, Nald stood up on the table and began juggling the array of forks and spoons.

  Feeling mischievous, Viola began gathering other items from around the room to throw at him. A small candlestick, an empty bowl, and even a rounded pebble were thrown into the looping rainbow of items. Contorting his body with each toss, Nald managed to keep them all afloat. Viola clapped, loving the entertainment. He was very good. For a brief moment, thoughts of Xavier and his similar skills crossed her mind. Oh, how she missed him.

  The surrounding guards mostly ignored the jubilant group, allowing them the freedom to enjoy themselves for once. One even cracked a smile, but looked away when they noticed him. Had he dared to watch closer, he might just get swept up in their laughter. What was the harm in letting them cut loose for an evening? Let them have it.

  “May I have this dance?” Kalmton asked, bowing deeply at Viola’s side. She turned to him and smiled with a nod. Of course there was no music, but that wasn’t going to stop them tonight.

  “Thank you,” Viola said as they swept slowly from side to side.

  “For asking you to dance?”

  “For everything,” she answered. It was the perfect way to end an otherwise horrible day. The humans had accepted her, and now they could move forward. All except one, anyway. Umoro sat in the corner by himself, his glare flashing daggers at all those around the room. She couldn’t worry about that now. She would reach out to him eventually, and try to unite him back into the group. They were all on the same side, after
all. But she wouldn’t worry about that tonight. Tonight she would celebrate.

  Chapter 11

  That evening, Viola and Salina lay on their beds gazing up at the ceiling. There were other rooms available, but neither had made the move. They silently enjoyed each other’s company, even if the words were never spoken out loud.

  “So what’s the plan?” Salina asked, feet crossed with her hands braced behind her head.

  “Hum?” Viola muttered, rolling her head towards Salina. “What do you mean?”

  “Viola the magnificent, is it not? Are you not charged with our protection now?” Viola groaned and rolled away. Oh no. Here it comes.

  Grinning, Salina rolled from her bed and dropped down to one knee. “But my life belongs to you now. I live to serve!”

  “Shut up,” Viola grumbled, throwing the cover up over her head. She just didn’t want Salina to see her laughing.

  “But… but... but... by rights I am now your personal slave. I shall do whatever you command, oh great leader!”

  Viola threw back the cover. This time she didn’t look the least bit amused. “That’s not funny,” she said softly.

  Salina’s face went crimson with embarrassment. “No, I suppose it’s not,” she mumbled, rising off the floor. How could she have forgotten all that Viola had gone through before ending up here? Through their nightly girl talks, Viola had confided in her more and more as she became more comfortable with Salina. She spoke of a man who practically owned her, had spent years tormenting her both physically and mentally. Viola might be naive to the world, but she certainly knew what slavery was.

  “I’m sorry,” Salina apologized, mortified at her attempted humor. “I was just acting stupid, hoping we might share a laugh or two. It seems I overshot my goal and became an outright fool.”

  “You are many things, Salina, but a fool is not one of them,” Viola said. “If it will make you feel better, I suppose I could allow you to bring me some water. It’s the least I can do if you really want to serve me that badly.” She winked, assuring her that all was forgiven.

  After a shared laugh, they decided to just relax in silence for a while. Even here, buried beneath stone corridors, they could still hear the desert lizards chirping outside. Not a comfortable thing when one was trying to sleep, but relaxing in its own right. It served as a subtle reminder that even though they were out in the desert, they were still surrounded by life. It was a reassuring song, reminding them that the world was still spinning even in their absence.

  “Viola?” said Salina, interrupting the long silence. A lone lantern flickered away, casting dancing shadows across the stone. Viola didn’t answer, but Salina knew she was listening. “I need you to promise me something.”

  “Promise you what?” Viola asked, lying motionless on her bed, eyes up on the ceiling. In the dim orangish light, her pale skin and black lips were mostly imperceptible. She looked completely human. More than just human, she was a beautiful woman by any measure.

  “You might find this strange, but I honestly believe that all things happen for a reason. I know that sometimes it feels as if we have been forsaken, that the world has forgotten about us entirely. But I don’t believe in accidents or coincidence. There has to be a reason for all of this mindless suffering, this endless madness.” Viola sat up and turned, listening intently.

  “One day soon,” Salina continued, “you and I will both be free of this stone prison. Our time here will feel like no more than a blip when we look back at it. But until that day comes, I need you to promise me you will not forget who you are, or the path that led you here. You must not feel pity for yourself, or for me. Can you do that for me? You must remember that our whole lives are still out there,” she gestured with a sweeping hand, “and not contained within these walls. When you walk out of here a free woman, you need to be the same as the woman who entered. Promise me you can do that, and I will do the same.”

  “I promise,” Viola answered with a smile. “We won’t let this place change who we are on the inside.” She brought a hand to her heart.

  “Good,” Salina said, sounding relieved. “Now let’s talk about something else.” She leaned forward on her bed, a sheepish grin on her face. “Tell me, how did it feel to beat Umoro like an old rug?”

  Viola was taken aback by the blunt question. “I didn’t want to do it,” she said shyly, her eyes falling to the floor. “They forced me, remember?”

  “No, he is the one who forced your hand, leaving you no choice but to go that far,” Salina was quick to remind her. “He tried to kill both you and Kalmton. If you ask me, he deserved his fate and then some. Besides, imagine the chaos if he had actually won. No one here would have followed that savage into battle. You earned our respect long before you crossed swords with that animal. Any other outcome would have been a disaster. So again I ask, how did it feel to teach that brute the lesson he so sorely deserved?”

  Viola hugged her knees close to her chest and looked away.

  “Bah, you’re no fun,” Salina said, throwing her hands up when she got no answer. “Well, enough chat for tonight. We better get some sleep, but first I need to go.” She rolled from her bed and headed out towards the hay pile down the hall.

  Alone in the room, Viola held her protective pose, knees pulled to her chest with her face all but buried between them. “I enjoyed it,” she whispered to no one. “I would do it again if I got the chance.” It was her honest response to Salina’s question, one she was not proud of and wanted no one else to hear.

  ***

  Tiptoeing across the cold stone, Salina suddenly found herself to be in quite a rush to go relieve herself. The damp floor chilling the bottom of her feet wasn’t helping any. Scurrying over to the dank-smelling hay pile, she lifted her tunic and squatted down. She blew out a deep breath, a little annoyed with herself for waiting so long, but relieved to be going at last. A light flashed from behind, causing her to glance over her shoulder.

  “Who’s there?” she asked, feeling rather vulnerable while balancing up on the balls of her feet. “Wait your turn. I’ll be done in a minute.” The crossway looked vacant from here, and that was the only place the light could have come from. Coming back around the corner, she saw the flickering beams of a lamp, accompanied by footsteps as the bright light moved towards her. “Who’s there?” she repeated, shielding her eyes while trying to make out the shadowed figure. “What the hell are you—” Pain exploded through her head, followed immediately by spinning blackness. She tipped over face first down into the hay.

  ***

  Viola waited, thinking about what Salina had said. The more she thought about it, the more she realized Salina was probably right. It would be easy to lose her mind down here, to become someone else completely if she allowed it. She listened to the lizards chirping, their song resonating through the desert. Out there, she thought. That’s where I left my life, so that’s where I’ll find it again. I just have to hang on a little bit longer. Once I’m free again I’ll—

  She saw the light from a lantern outside in the hall and heard the soft slap of bare feet on stone heading towards her room. Ah, Salina was back. She had been gone a long time. Now they could say goodnight and finally get some sleep. Tomorrow would be another hard day of training. She glanced at the lone lantern sitting on the small table between their beds. Had Salina brought a lantern with her? No, this was the only one.

  An enormous shape rounded in from the hallway and set down his lantern. Viola didn’t move. Naked as the day he was born, Umoro leaned against the doorway as he watched her lying on the bed. “You made a fool out of me today,” he said, his subdued tone perfectly casual. Watching her curiously, fully erect, he began stroking himself. “But I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Now that my fellow humans have turned their backs on me in favor of some pale-fleshed dead girl, I no longer have to worry about earning their respect. They’re dead to me. You are dead to me. But that doesn’t mean I have no use for you. You can still serve a different pur
pose.”

  His words were calm, void of any emotion. But his eyes were hot coals blazing with the promise of violence. He continued to masturbate in slow, even strokes, watching her in silence as if her presence were merely an afterthought. Viola met his gaze, showing no emotion of her own as she watched him. Despite his boorish actions, she didn’t seem to be rattled in the least. Lying back, she hiked her tunic up above the knee and tilted her head. He stopped stroking. Was she playing games with him? Why wasn’t she terrified?

  “You’ve come to force yourself on me?” she asked, her fingers slowly moving along her inner thigh. “I know how this works. I’ve seen it before. Your ego has been shattered because you were bested by a woman. And now you feel like the only way to take back control is to dominate the source of your frustration. Tell me, Umoro, do you think that raping me will make you a man again? That’s never worked for any man before. I suppose you believe you’ll be the exception?”

  “Shut your mouth,” he growled. Still holding himself, he pointed it at her as if it were a weapon, then moved towards her in slow, menacing steps. “My manhood is not threatened by some pale-skinned creature who has no place in this world. Just lie there and serve your purpose, bitch! Scream once and I’ll break your neck. Not that that would change anything. I have no problem mounting your corpse.”

  Umoro crept up the bed like some kind of lizard. When he drew up near her hips, she invitingly swung one leg over the top of his shoulder, legs spread with his naked body nestled in between. He paused, not sure what to think of her actions. She should be terrified, trembling and crying at the very least. She drew back her tunic further and raised her hips, fully exposing herself. Cool skin pressed against his warm body.

  “I know what men want,” she said, having yet to break eye contact. “You’re all the same. What makes you think you’re different?” Wrapping her hands around his waist, she eased Umoro into her.

 

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