Until Death Do Us Apart

Welcome to the Academy of Lethal Arts

What’s wrong with you, guys? Don’t you trust anyone anymore?

Clearly you don’t. The windows are darkened and I’m not sure where we’re going. Again.

Is this some kind of sick habit? Or you just love darker places... then you can kiss my...

I tried to ask about our final destination several times, but the only answer I received from Leather-jacket (oh wait, his name is William) was that it’s not my concern. I’m way beyond pissed and I can’t do anything about it unless I wish to die.

Great! Vážně skvělé!

I probably fell asleep for a while. I don’t know what time is it right now. All I can see is that it’s dark outside. I try to stretch up a little. My body is sore and sitting in this bloody car for eternity is the reason for that.

“Oh, you’re awake,” William grunts, “I was afraid you died in your sleep,” he smirks.

Yep, I forgot that he’s an ass with perfect ass most of the time. I feel like saying something, but I really don’t want to start any conversation at all, because it’d certainly turn to a fight and I’d probably (most likely) lose. I’m rather watching the darkness consuming everything outside the car.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” he suddenly announces seriously with no sense of his usual sharp humour.

You mean you're getting there, heh?

“I can’t wait,” my words are filled with so much irony and I roll my eyes.

The car suddenly turns left and I see the entrance, the gate, because it’s enlightened by car lights for a little moment. It’s magnificent and very old. There’re spirals, arrows and other ornaments which make it impressive. I want to concentrate on it, but I’m not allowed to.

“Jara,” William mispronounces my name intentionally.

I know he only plays with me. He’s smart enough to remember my name. I’d bet he can outsmart top university professors even though he doesn’t look like it.

“I’ll give you a little piece of advice,” he retorts.

Oh, you're almost THERE? I'd rather face your perfect ass than your miserable face. Ok, not really true. His face is gorgeous too.

“I can see you’re a survivor and you won’t give up easily, but don’t push it. This place is nothing like your previous university. Your cheeky comments, bold tone and bravery won’t help you. Disobedience is severely punished here. Keep that in mind.” He uses a low darker tone for a greater effect. I’d say thank you, but there’s nothing to thank for. Clearly.

The car stops. I want to get out desperately. Finally, I can breathe fresh air after such a long time. I sigh in relief. I focus on the torches blazing in the wind and behind them, there’s a great mansion.

What the…

I stare at the impressive building, but William tells me I should take my own stuff myself and follow him.

Heh, your chivalry and your good behaviour is gone? How predictable.

“As I said, Yara, don’t push it,” he smirks as he would already had read my thoughts. Shiver goes down my spine. This guy gives me the creeps.

“Where are we?” I ask curiously.

“Welcome to the Academy of Lethal Arts also known as the Last Place,” he chuckles.

The last place of what exactly or for whom? Wait a minute, The Academy of Lethal Arts? What the hell am I doing here? I’m no deadly weapon. I can’t fight. I know some basics, but I’m no warrior. I’ll certainly die in the very first combat I’ll be in. There’s no way I can survive that! And YOU KNOW IT!

“You bastard,” I exhale.

He stiffens and turns back only to remind me of who I am. No one. His gaze corners me. He has heard that. I’m more than sure.

Oh my, I’m so screwed. When the hell did all this happen? I used to be shy and quiet; I loved my comfort zone and the fact of not being known, and look at me now. I guess that happens when you know you’re going to lose your life in few days (or maybe the very next day).

I’m startled and at the same time furious. William knows I won’t stand a chance and yet he’s determined to test me and expose me to certain death.

He’s heading my direction. My anger wins over my shyness and my uncertainty. My fists are clenched. Of course, my hands are shaking and my heart beats at speed of light, but I’ll be damned if I show weakness.

His face is like a stone. He’s getting closer and closer. I can smell his scent.

Rosin, clove, and star anise.

Suddenly a flash or some kind of dream appears in my mind. I can see the same mansion, but the time is different. It’s magnificent and many people take care of it. I hear people laugh and chat. I see them dancing in their most exquisite robes. It makes my head spin.

And then it’s gone all of the sudden.

What the hell was that?

“Yara, Yara,” William is so close that I almost feel his warm body. He whispers in my ear and his soft voice only increases my heat down there.

For how long have I not had a man in my bed? For too long. I’d play with his hair. I’d use my lips to explore his whole body while making him want me more and more. I’d like to taste the sweetness of his lips, biting them curiously. It’d be nice to touch his naked chest, to feel his muscles underneath my hands, to tease him in many ways until he’s powerless, and to teach him a lesson. And then finally give in and taste his hardness inside my body.

I was about to give him a fine shout, but how can I concentrate? He’s damn hot while he’s so dangerously close. I’ve never quite understood why many good girls are attracted (almost like addicts) to bad boys. Now, I do. It’s intimidating. You can get burnt easily, but it still doesn’t scare you off. On the contrary, you want it even more and more. You balance at the edge of the knife while dancing wildly. It’s like a drug.

“Do not play with fire,” William teases me sensually. The tone of his voice is dark, promising dangerous if I’m testing his patience long enough.

He drops my luggage on the ground all of the sudden. I look down and it’s opened. The locks must have had "damaged" by the fall. I really do not believe it however. The locks were perfectly fine when we left the uni.

All my underwear and my clothes are soaked wet through and through, lying in a dirty puddle. I notice my laptop and my phone is gone. I’m trying to collect all my things as fast as I can. I hear a cruel distant laugh.

“You can humiliate me, but one day, I’ll be the one who’s on the top and then you’ll have to bow your head before me. Keep that in YOUR mind, dear William,” I whisper the promise.

I’m finished with my luggage and I know I have to follow him. I’d rather bite his hand off than obey him. I guess I’ll leave it for another day. For now, I’ll try to pretend to be a good girl. I can do that. I can put my angel-face mask on.

“You’re not going to break my spirit so easily. I’ll fight till my death,” I mumble quietly.

I'm tempted to ask whether he teaches here. You know what they say... He who can, does; he who cannot...

“Are you coming?” he hisses poisonously from a distance.

I sigh. The mansion is huge. Corridors are full of old weapons and portraits. They all belong to different ages, but there’s no exact order in which they’re hanged on the walls. At least it’s neither according to the year in which they had been made nor according to their origin, and that is why it seems so random.

We’re heading upstairs. I’m mesmerized by old and very expensive furniture, other portraits and even more weapons. The mansion and all its richness are not quite common any more (if you of course don’t live in a manor or in Buckingham Palace). It’s a lot to take in. I’d expect it’d have a security, but there’s none. The corridors are quiet and there’re no cameras here either. There’re only dimmed lights which supports the atmosphere.

William stops in front of the door after a while. It’s in a different wing of the mansion. The whole corridor is not that decorated. It seems to me that it’s a place where servants usually live or at least used to. He opens the door and lets me in. There’s only a bed, a table with a chair and a small wardrobe with a mirror. They’re not expensive, just basic and cheap ones.

Oh god, I only hope that showers are not shared.

“The bathroom and the toilets are opposite to the staircase.” He shuts the door with this sentence. I’m alone. He didn’t even tell me at what time I should wake up.

Oh, I don’t have my phone and there’s no alarm clock in this room either.

I open my luggage while looking for places where I can hang my clothes until they’re fully dried. I’m not going to wash them tonight. There’re still few pieces which are clean and tidy.

When I’m done with one job, I decide to take a shower. I peek through slightly opened door. There’s no one. I take my towel and soap and decide to pamper myself with the luxury of falling water. The showers are shared. It’s not that I’d be scared of showing my naked body to anyone. No. I just want to avoid to the situations and places where I’m alone and vulnerable. I don’t want to get killed easily. Showers are well-known for bullying.

Lucky for me, there’s no one. I could stand in the shower forever. Hot water calms me down and releases the tension. It’s so good to feel water on my body after so long. Water takes all humiliation away with its flow. All my worries are gone for a while.

Suddenly, I have the impression I’m not alone. I stop the water and I take my towel in a hurry. All I want is to cover myself. I hear steps which get closer and closer to where I stand. I’m freaked out. I’m prepared to fight back even the odds are against me, because my combat skills are miserable (maybe even worse). I must look like some kind of weirdo.

What if it’s someone who means no harm to me? I can’t be certain. I wait for a minute, but I can’t bare this any longer. I push shower curtains to the side prepared to not give in easily.

“Hi,” I hear soft voice. I stare at a blondie who looks very sleepy and tired.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to startle you,” I aim for an apology, but she seems not interested. Even though I know she stands in front of me, I can’t shake off the feeling of being watched by someone I can’t see. I might be going nuts, but I decide to listen to my inner voice and to return to my room as quickly as possible.

I’m finally in my room. I sigh in relief. The very last thing I do before going to sleep is that I check the lock. There is none. There’s only a key hole, but I don’t have any key. I take a chair and I put it under the door handle. No one will disturb me while I’m sleeping and while I’m being most vulnerable.

Even though I don’t wish to think about him, my last thoughts belong to William.

He orders me to touch my n*****s while he’s watching me. I’m quite good at that and I can feel my pulse increasing in the very next second. I don’t mind him watching. On the contrary, it makes me even wetter. Soon, he stands up, takes my hands firmly and gives me no other choice than provocatively wiggle against him. He knows what I’m up to, but it’s too late. He’s already hard, but I won’t give him that pleasure. First, I’ll make him beg on his knees!