Until Death Do Us Apart

The First Combat

Well, that hurts. As we train punches, I get kicked so many times but I need to stand up and go on. Honestly, I’m trying to concentrate on the training, however I’m thinking about the conversation which I’ve overheard. I still don’t have that many pieces of information to puzzle the whole picture.

My body is black‘n blue with bruises and it’s going to get even worse. We’re told we’re going to face each other in a combat this afternoon.

In a real combat? Are they nuts?

I wish I could ask whether I could be left out, but I’ve got the impression it’d get only worse.

I guess that I’m about to find out whether I’m a survivor.

All the time I was wondering about the name ‘lethal’. Lethal academy – it almost sounds like they had got high when creating such a name. Well, now I’m sure they had not. I’ve been here for two days and I should try my chances on the third day? That’s insane. I admire live-or-die attitude, but this is just too much.

I’m about to witness my very first combat and I have to admit I’m scared. My heart beats fast. I’m frightened. I watch how they move and how skilled they actually are. Both men chose to fight with swords. Their moves seem smooth and natural. They were probably born with their skills.

There’re 18 of us, 16 of us still remaining. I hope I’d face Sophia, because she seems to not to be as bloodthirsty as the others. I’m still waiting. The very same scenario repeats over and over again. First, two fighters stand against each other; second, the moment of choosing a weapon happens, while you don’t know who the opponent will be; third, you meet your opponent who has been chosen randomly by a dice; fourth, you fight until one of you is unconscious or hurt enough. It’s barbaric. I’m sick of it. It’s not a pleasing look.

As they continue I become to understand that I will be the last one to go. I can see that the clothes with special fibres are more durable and serve as some sort of a special protection. It seems that you can get hurt, but not seriously injured. However, your head is vulnerable, and the clothes will not save you from everything.

The next combat is about to commence. There’re Sophia and Clara, facing each other. Sophia seems relaxed, but Clara’s face is cunning. Sophia holds her staff, not paying attention to anything, while Clara is trying whether her sword is sharp enough.

“Watch carefully!” Ava snorts. I remember her name, because her nails are razor sharp. She hasn’t fought yet.

“I’m watching, closely.”

“You’re about to see something special!” she retorts, clearly annoyed with my response. “It’s not your turn yet,” she pauses and devotes me a cruel smile, “but I’m here to assure you I’ll be harsh on you. I just wanted you to know.”

I’m afraid that Sophia will get hurt so I’m not paying attention to her words. When I realize to what she’s pointing to, I’m determined to not to give her opportunity to get to me.

“Clearly, you’re not an oracle. There’re still few people left, and I can fight with somebody else.”

She gives me a crooked smile.

“Why do you think we haven’t tried anything yet?” she croaks.

I’m fully concentrated on Sophia and Clara, for they’re about to start. I hold my breath. I cross my fingers for Sophia. She hasn’t been as hostile to me as the others and I hope she wins.

Clara fights fiercely. She’s obviously trying to hurt Sophia and she uses every opportunity to get closer to her. Clara aims for Sophia’s neck, but Sophia moves as if she wouldn’t be bothered by any of this at all. Clara seems furious, because Sophia fights like a dancer – with precision, ease and with steady hands. Sophia is clearly not interested in hurting Clara.

Suddenly, Clara makes a mistake and she falls.

“Don’t play with me!” she barks, while throwing bolts of lightning with her eyes.

Clara stands up and fights even more aggressively than before. She cuts Sophia with her sword lightly, and then, she licks the blood on the blade.

What the hell? What kind of sicko are you?

However, Sophia doesn’t lose her concentration and she beats Clara in the very next second with her precision and deadly judgement. Clara isn’t injured. The only thing which has been harmed is her pride. I’ve never seen Sophia fight before and I’m amazed. She looks as she was born for this. She’s a natural talent.

“See,” Ava mutters, “she’s the reason why’re you still breathing,” she whispers to my ear.

Do I understand that Sophia protects me?

“Watch you back, dear Yara,” Ava murmurs poisonously.

I’ve never done anything to you, Ava, so why do you act like a cow?

As the combats continue, I realize that Ava must have had arrange it somehow, because she’s the one I’m about face. I’m scared to death and I can see Ava knows. Oh, I want to run out.

“Hey,” Sophia comes to me. I don’t want to look into her eyes. “Yara, don’t be scared.”

“Well, it’s easy to say for you. You’re a skilled warrior.” I’m freaking out and my voice trembles, but the least I can do is to hold on my dignity.

Fuck my dignity! Get me out of this place!

“Yara, it’s ok to feel fear, but don’t get consumed by it. Do not act like a prey otherwise Ava will become a predator. Don’t fear her and don’t fear the pain. Embrace it, and become the one who’s stronger. If you’re not able to do that, she will kill you and no one will stop her. This is a crucial moment for you. Whatever you do, do not lose your concentration and do hold your emotions and especially feelings under control!” Sophia emphasizes her words and her tone is dead serious.

“Whatever happens, Soph, I’d like to thank you,” I whisper with sincerity.

“The last ones to go are Ava and Yara,” Sarah exclaims.

“Choose a staff with no blade on its end,” Sophia mutters.

“But how I…”

“Trust me, Yara. Sometimes a blade isn’t everything. Just concentrate and do not die. You’re a survivor, do not forget that,” she smiles at me and her smile is bright and sincere.

“Come on, Yara,” Sarah commands.

Ava is already waiting with a short sword in her hand. I take Sophia’s advice and choose the staff. However, I decide to take a small knife. I pretend that I’m still undecided in the matter of what to choose. Ava is laughing, but I’m trying to remember everything I’ve been ever taught. I smuggle the knife into my sleeve ensuring its blade won’t hurt me during the fight.

“Let’s begin,” Sarah states in a cold voice.

“Oh, I’m going to slice you into small pieces,” Ava laughs, but I’m holding on the words which Sophia said. ‘Do not lose your concentration and hold your emotions under control.’ I squeeze the staff hard.

Ava attacks. I protect myself with the staff. I try to fight back and hit her, but she laughs at all my attempts. She’s playing with me and she tests whether I can stand it or not. Suddenly, she cuts me and I drop the staff down. I have nothing to defend myself with. I try to reach for the staff, but she throws it away, while laughing poisonously.

Oh, hell. I’m so screwed. She could be a guy, at least I could use my boobies weapon.

Yara, concentrate and hold your emotions, or you die!

“Pathetic,” she bursts out with laugh.

Once more, I try to run to the place where the staff lays, but Ava rushes to me and points her sword at my neck. I stop on the spot frozen with fear. We look in each other’s eyes. She runs closer and wants to kill me. I dodge, but she cuts me again. Ava is satisfied with my spilt blood. It’s a game of a cat and a mouse. While I’m thinking about the pain, she hits me hard to my face. My lip is swollen and half of my face is pulsing. She kicks me and I’m caught by surprise and I fall down hitting my head hard.

“Get up and die with honour, you brave pathetic thing!” Ava smirks.

Embrace the fear. How the f**k should I do that? I’m f*****g freaking out. I don’t want to die yet.

I have an idea. This may end up very badly, but at least I’ll try.

Let's grab a spade and dig and dig... our grave is waiting for us.

“You’re pathetic, Ava. Clearly you’re stronger, and yet, you need a sword to finish me off. Don’t talk about bravery, you coward!” I shout, because I want everybody to hear that. I tease her openly even though I know what’s at stake.

“You little piece of s**t!” she exclaims, “is this supposed to hurt my feelings? Is this supposed to make me show mercy to you?” she continues.

“No, not your feelings, it should destroy your poor, false ego!” I know I’m playing with fire. “You’re simply not able to hurt me with your bare hands! You’re pathetic! Oh, and you have a white stain on your shirt which looks like...”

"I'm going to kill you!" she screams. My words enrage her. She doesn’t think clearly, because she throws her sword away.

I’ve achieved my goal. I’ll get my ass beaten, but I won’t die at least. Maybe?

I was being happy ahead of time. She punches me several times and her punches are even harder than before. She aims for my head and weak spots. She wants to knock me out. My head is spinning. I feel blood in my mouth and I spit it out. Her face is full of pleasure, because I haven’t hit her, not once.

She’s laughing. She’s about to hit me again, and this time, I feel, this will be the very last punch. I can see her prepared fist. Her face is filled with joy and excitement.

I observe her closely. I studied her in the last five minutes. I know what she does when she attacks, and when she does want to hit me, I dodge. It’s like a reflex I have been born with. Either it’s me or her. I grab her hand, pull her closer and I take the knife out. She falls down, because I caught her be surprise. I hold the blade near to her neck, while sitting on her chest. She’s shocked and there’s no humour in her face anymore.

My grip of her hair and of the blade is firm.

“You b***h, you’ve cheated!” she exclaims angrily. “We were supposed to…”

“…take a weapon.” I finish her sentence. “Yes, the staff was for my protection; and the knife was the weapon,” I say fiercely.

I can’t recognize my own voice. It’s confident and there’s no trace of doubt or uncertainty. It’s as if it wasn’t even mine.

“Don’t even move!” I threaten her while pushing the knife against her neck for underlining my statement. I see her bleeding. My head is spinning so badly and my body screams in agony. I’m only able to concentrate on the fact that if I let loose, I die so I hold my hand very still not looking around, because that would be a beginner’s mistake.

I can see that Ava’s look changes from poisonous and confident to a worried one, because the knife makes her bleed and my grip is firm. I’m almost crushing her neck with the blade and she doesn’t dare to move or to fight back. She’s completely given at my mercy.

I want to kill you, Ava.

Another dream appears in my mind, a flash of something I don’t know nor remember. I stand and I hold a sword. I know my hands are rather weak. I’m not used to its weight and that’s why I grab a dagger. This one is however made of crystal, but I hold it with confidence.

“That’s enough!” I hear William’s thunderous voice, but I’m not going to move or do anything. “Yara, give me the knife!” he orders.

Why the heck should I? She’s going to kill me.

“Yara,” his voice is surprisingly soft like a lullaby, “give me the knife,” he articulates every word cautiously.

Ava doesn’t move. Her body is stiff, but her hands shake in panic. Ava’s eyes are dead scared full of fright and terror of what I might do.

“Yara, she’s not going to hurt you. Just give me that,” William’s soft voice comforts me, but I hate him.

He knew. He knew it from the beginning. He was just testing me. It was a stupid game to him. Was this what you wanted from me, William? She was going to kill me and if she did, it wouldn’t matter, because I was considered weak and replaceable. But now, you hypocrite, I want to kill her for what she did, for what she has triggered in me, nevertheless you don’t want to lose any warrior, because you don’t have many of them. You want to turn me into a deadly weapon, into a killer, into a heartless beast.

I do detest him more than anything in the world.

“I despise you,” I whisper hatefully to his direction and I see he’s heard it. I know Ava did too, but nobody else had noticed.

Everyone is surprised. They secretly whisper hoping I wouldn’t hear it. I’m dancing on the edge of my nerves. I’m just like in a trance, but I suddenly wake up. I see the knife, the blood and Ava’s frightened look. I step back; however, I hold the knife still.

For a moment I think about throwing the knife at William or even better, I should pierce his black heart (that might consulate me a little). I hand him the knife and his body stiffens. I look directly into his eyes and my gaze is colder than Siberia during the winter. He stares back at me and for the first time I see doubt in his eyes.

I walk out slowly. When I close the door, leaving everyone behind, I start to run. I want to go to shower. I wish to tear all the clothes I have on, but I’m not able to. I take them off. I stand under the falling water and I shed a few tears. Is this how it feels like? When you’re desperate and you don’t know whether you survive or not?

Is this what are you going to do to me? Rob me of my very own essence and of my soul?

There’s one thing I have to admit. I enjoyed it. Not the almost killing-me part, but everything else – the part of being uncertain, feeling alive, and then being the one who steps out of one’s comfort zone, facing own fear and master it.