Chapter 21: Lion’s Den

Kurt Landon frowned as he observed his sister bent over by the sink. She retched into the steel container speckled with grime and other mysterious substances he would’ve preferred not to contemplate the origins of for too long.

The nausea occurred less frequently than it previously had from the prior week. He shuddered to imagine the internal damage the poison had done to her body. Poison he had unintentionally administered.

He glared at the male hovering next to her, gently patting her back in a meager effort of assurance. Vincent whispered something to her. From the tone, it was likely words of comfort.

It should’ve been you, you venomous snake, Kurt thought.

And why not? Everything this serpent touched crumbled from the potency of his venom. They had a fine thing going on in Pheora before he ever slithered into their lives. That all fell apart within a matter of days.

His relationship to the animals running Fort Brein put a bullseye on their backs.

Watching Alice, even she seemed to succumb to his touch, every vile trace of it. He’d seen enough. The way she trembled kissing him. The way her worries seemed to dissipate at the taste of that traitor’s lips. That boy had coiled himself around her, prepared to sink his fangs deep into the oblivious girl’s neck.

Kurt remained wise enough not to broach the subject, difficult as the temptation made it for him. Whether he liked it or not, Vincent filled a void inside her that had tormented her over the past two years. He couldn’t afford to push the matter. Not if he wanted to save her from the amber-eyed stranger. From herself.

The blonde stood erect with her shoulders straightened. She’d forced the latest collection of phlegm and blood out of her system. Vincent joined hands with her, leading her to the steel bed.

He snorted, causing the pair to look up from their newfound bliss. He shook his head, which seemed to make them content enough to revert into their own little world devoid of murder and human stew.

Kurt imagined the bed was more like a blanketed trey. Given their bodies would eventually be served to the other prisoners as ground meat in a nasty concoction, he found the comparison appropriate enough. Regardless, the so-called bed was the only source of comfort, if one must be pressed to call it that, available to them within the walls of this unforgiving hellhole.

With the absence of the morning sun, a flickering light above them served as the only significant source of visibility available to them within their cell. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the bulb for too long. While he wasn’t by any means epileptic, the repeated flashing threatened the makings of a migraine. Where he already had the misfortune of witnessing the living embodiment of one relentlessly pawing at his sister, he didn’t need anything else adding to his discomfort.

“It should be morning soon,” Alice said, disturbing the silence.

And water is wet, Kurt bitterly thought. In another display of wisdom, he refrained from voicing his musing. Doing so would’ve provoked yet another squabble between them.

“I suppose so,” he replied after some contemplation. “Another uneventful day.”

That was what they had all started calling a good day, if such a thing existed within the prison. An uneventful day. Any other kind of day had the tendency to end in bloodshed.

The serpent spoke next. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Why? So he could spend his time whispering sweet nothings in the lieutenant’s ear? Living in a fantasy must’ve been swell for him. Instead of confronting him, Kurt settled for raising a single thumb.

Vincent appeared perplexed by the motion but returned the gesture.

A loud clang resounded behind Kurt, provoking an obscenity from him as he jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to see Cain peering into their cell. Clutched in his left hand was a nightstick, the source of the sudden disturbance.

He dragged the metal tip of the baton along the bars, producing a clamor that provoked a string of swearing from one of the adjacent cells.

The noise from their neighbor barely registered to any of them. Everyone kept their focus trained on their tormentor.

“Good to see you too, asshole,” Kurt grumbled.

Cain gasped, feigning offense to the obscenity. “And here I thought we were all getting along.”

“Getting along, huh?” Alice commented with a narrow brow. “There is a lot of things to describe us, but that sure isn’t the term I’d use. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

Cain grinned at her with a shark’s smile. “But I enjoy our little moments together.”

“Lucky us,” Vincent murmured.

“Besides, I would’ve thought you’d all want to know why I’m here,” Cain continued, choosing to ignore his sibling’s comment.

Kurt imagined the answer lied somewhere between relishing in the opportunity of being a condescending shit stain or threatening them once more.

“Not really,” Alice replied before she unleashed a sigh. “But I suppose that won’t stop you from telling us anyway.”

A harsh noise followed the baton clanging against the bars.

“Gold star for you,” Cain said with a mocking smile “Though, you should mind your manners.”

“It’s not like you’re going to kill me,” Alice replied.

Her response gave Cain pause. He appeared taken aback by the spontaneity of her declaration.

The lieutenant continued. “The warden wouldn’t have engaged in the display of theatrics he did if he had plans for my demise. So don’t act like you have the edge. If anything, you’re at risk of tumbling off it at the rate you’ve been going.”

“Hmm, he does like his theatrics. I got to give you that,” Cain said while he receded the baton into its black handle. He clipped it onto his belt as he continued talking. “My old man seems rather fond of you too. But his tastes aren’t as refined as mine. He lacks showmanship.”

Kurt shook his head, unimpressed with the boy’s droning. He’d pegged him a long time ago. He was the type of individual who loved the sound of his own voice. Maybe he craved the attention that the warden had failed to provide him with over the years. Every time he’d seen interactions between the pair, Vladsco regarded him with open disdain. His son was a vulgar heathen. The king of filth, proudly wearing a crown of shit, expecting people to bask in the mere presence of his degeneracy.

“Refined,” Alice said. She barely contained her laughter when she gave the word utterance. “I know the kind of animal you are.”

Cain smiled. “Oh?”

“You were the freak the other kids didn’t like. That’s why you lash out and do the things you do.”

“Alice, you don’t-”

“Your so-called showmanship is nothing more than a garish display to make yourself seem important. You’re not,” Alice interjected with a savage smile. She knew how to twist a knife, and she clearly didn’t plan on stopping. “People tolerate you only because they’re forced to do so. Because you’re a general’s son. Nothing you even achieved yourself. Everything you had was given to you.”

Cain smacked the bars with his palm. “You little bitch! You don’t know me-”

“I know you’re nothing,” she hotly contested with a mocking laugh. “Maybe a joke if we’re being charitable with you. Face it: You’re shit.”

The brunette seethed at her words. His face twisted into raw hatred for her. Any plans for play he had in mind were now long discarded. The wheels in his head were turning, formulating only ways to hurt her.

“What the hell is going on here?” a voice bellowed.

Jack stormed into the room with his entourage. Cain didn’t acknowledge him. He kept his eyes focused on Alice.

“You’re dead,” he whispered harshly.

“The general told you that you were not to be here,” Jack continued. His face twisted into disgust as he spoke. “Not after what happened last time.”

Alice spoke. “He can’t control himself. Probably why his father resents him so much.”

“Shut up,” Jack barked at her. He motioned for his men to escort Cain away.

Surprisingly, he didn’t put up much in the way of a fight. He allowed himself to be pushed out of the block without another word.

Jack spared the prisoners a glance. “He’s dangerous. Stop baiting him,” he commanded before he took his leave.

Kurt couldn’t help but feel Jack might’ve known something about him they didn’t. That musing did little to ease his mind, even when the morning rays of the sun dispelled the shadows that surrounded them.

Light didn’t banish monsters. And, just now, Alice had made the fatal mistake of provoking the biggest one he knew.

****

That uppity, little whore!

Cain barged through one of the cellblocks within the east wing of the facility. The only thought on his mind was how he’d make the that worthless blonde regret the day she ever spoke to him in that manner.

Nothing was he? Him? Nothing?

He took notice of one of the prisoner’s scrubbing the grimy floor of the prison. He kicked over the bucket, spilling the soapy water onto the concrete floor.

The woman doing the cleaning looked away from him, hanging her head low in subservience. Her lack of fight was the only thing saving her from him taking his frustrations out on her. Depending on the guards, she’d probably receive a beating anyway.

Impeding with a prisoner’s cleaning was nothing.

The fertile soil within his mind sprouted life to something wonderful. Refinement. Showmanship. If they didn’t believe he possessed those qualities, he’d fix that problem. He’d show Alice just how significant he was. He’d show she didn’t know the kind of animal he was. The only thing she’d find out in her last moments would be the kind of animal he planned on feeding her to this evening.

Vladsco wasn’t here to protect her now.

Besides, he had a captive crowd that deserved to witness a show. He’d make it the best one they’d ever seen. After all, their lives lacked fulfillment. He would inspire them.

Sure, his father would punish him. Severely, perhaps.

Consequences mattered little to Cain, not when such a rare opportunity presented itself for the taking.

He’d finish what he started with his brother. He’d tear apart Vladsco’s prized trophy. With the two of them gone, Vladsco would have no choice but to grit his teeth and accept the inevitable. Lash out as he may, Cain remained his son. When he was done, he’d be the only thing that the aged general would have left in this world.

That rationalization eased his mind as he set his destination towards the animal handler.

Cain had always found it fascinating that they erected a wing within the facility exclusively for exotic creatures. Vladsco never could resist his pet projects, this latest one born from the desire to preserve some of nature’s most incredible creatures. How fitting he’d use one of them to tear the throat out of his most cherished work of art.

The youth failed to hold back his growing smile. Now that he thought about it, one wasn’t quite accurate. Not when they had three lions that would be eager to fill their bellies with Alice. Then his worthless brother. And then their ever-scowling companion for dessert.

How’s all that for nothing?

****

Alice Lynheart lurched forward; a harsh, metallic taste flooded her palate as she hacked out the phlegm that had once more taken residence inside her throat.

“H-Hey, Al-Alice.”

Her companion’s soft voice pleased her ear even in her sickness. She looked towards him once she felt certain there’d be little chance she’d cough on him.

“You alright?”

“W-well, I suppose that term is all relative these days.”

Vincent furrowed his brow as he clenched her hand between his own pair, the ensuing warmth of his touch greatly appreciated by the young blonde. “Are you going to make it, Alice?”

“I’m going to try,” she replied. The conviction in her voice sounded flimsy at best.

In truth, her coughing came in spells. The fact blood occasionally found its way into the resulting mess that came out of her did little to inspire confidence in her continued survival. Still, she didn’t want to tell him that she feared she was dying. The nervous wreck that the boy was likely wouldn’t be able to cope with the possibility.

The warm smile tugging at the male’s lips was barely noticed as she found herself staring deeply into the golden pool surrounding his pupils. Something about his eyes felt warm to her, inviting even, like safety resided there.

“You have to,” he said while he brushed his index finger across the back of her hand. His touch felt soft yet possessed a certain quality that could penetrate the sturdiest of armor. “It wouldn’t be the same getting out of here without you.”

“We aren’t getting out of here,” Kurt interjected. He looked up from his blanket at them, doing little to conceal his pessimism. “Unless you can walk through walls.”

The sting of his words only served to blacken her mood and shove the moment they shared off cloud nine and back down into their cell. Irritation pulled her eyebrows together while she glared at the youth huddled underneath the covers.

“Don’t say that,” Vincent spoke harshly, his tone sharper than its usual, faint projection.

Alice looked up to see fire glimmer within the young man’s eyes. His grip on her hand tightened as he stared down the depressed brunette. Nothing was painful about his grasp, but it wasn’t a particularly pleasant sensation.

“You haven’t resigned yourself to it yet,” Kurt replied. “I get it, and I envy you for it too, but make no mistake, Vincent: This place will be our grave.”

Vincent looked back at Alice, hurt displayed prominently within his eyes. His grip softened as he regarded her with that pitiful countenance. A part of him believed Kurt’s words. In a way, she’d be lying if she said a part of her didn’t feel the same.

Still, there was no reason for him to kick Vincent while he was down. They already had the brutes running the prison engaging in that task every day. Her brother didn’t need to aid their enemies in breaking down their fragile spirits further.

“Kurt, be quiet,” Alice said. “Every time you open your mouth, without fail, you can’t help yourself: You have to say something negative.”

“Now wait-”

“I can barely keep going on, as is. If your heart carries any love for me, stop.”

The bite contained within her words made him flinch. He looked at her for a moment, trying to say something, anything. When that effort born of futility miscarried, he angled his head back to the blankets and kept himself quiet.

“I couldn’t go on without you,” Vincent said with a faint projection. He didn’t want to speak too loudly and capture the ire of the pessimist they shared quarters with.

She looked at him, his vulnerability rested on naked display in front of her. He didn’t believe those words. Try as she might to convince herself of that, she couldn’t. His expression quelled any doubt she carried in the face of such sincerity.

“Don’t go talking like that,” Alice whispered. “You may not have any choice in the matter.”

He angled closer to her, his face inches apart from her own. “What if I chose you?”

The corner of her lip betrayed her with a quiver as she felt the heat of his breath. You can’t. It’s what she wanted to say in answer to his question. Yet the words never came. She couldn’t bring herself to deny him.

Her heart fluttered, and her eyes closed in an act of surrender to his desire. Though she knew it to be wrong, a selfish part of her didn’t want him to leave without her. This place had taken everything from them. Was it wrong to want to seize something back in return?

“Dinner time!” shouted a voice from the hall.

The moment abruptly ended; her head whipped around to observe a guard holding a hose. Water sprayed out of it, the intensity of it slammed both of them into the wall.

She found herself choking on the fluids burning within her nose and trapped deep inside her lungs. The water would stop before another surge of it struck her. If she had more time to think, she would have reasoned the soldier had alternated between the targets they sprayed.

After the fourth onslaught, the hosing stopped. Water dripped and pooled along the floor. She hacked out the water inside her. The creak of the doors leading into their cell barely registered. The feet splashing through the water, approaching her, did catch her attention as she looked up to see a boot raise.

Alice cried out as the leather footwear landed squarely against her ribs. The pain sent her reeling on the wet ground.

Vincent yelled something in protest before he was promptly beaten back by the butt of a rifle.

Her time was at a premium. There was precious little of it to spare when her assailant came upon her, denying her the opportunity to get a grip on her surroundings.

Another well-placed kick kept her down. She latched onto the offending appendage. Another boot kicked her, this time on the head. Her grip failed her, and she took another hit. All she could do was huddle into a miserable ball on the floor as the men attacked her.

Within seconds, the beating stopped. A tight grip tugged at her hair, forcing her to face her adversary. Cain’s grisly smile displayed itself in greeting.

“I said it’s dinner time!”

She spat a wad of phlegm into his smug face. Her tormentor’s expression twisted before he slammed her head onto the concrete floor below.

Hot pain surged through her forehead. Cain’s voice barely registered in her ear.

“We’ve got to move fast, boys, lest you want Jack to come and ruin our fun. Hustle!”

When her head was forcibly raised, she noticed blood trickle into her eye from where the skin on her forehead had busted open from the impact. They forced her onto her feet. Vincent and Kurt found themselves in the same position, being shoved out of the cell with rifles pointed at their backs for encouragement.

She thought of Vincent’s words, barely suppressing her tears as they echoed in her head.

What if I chose you?

From the way the situation had unfolded, she feared he’d chosen poorly.

****

The blonde ground her teeth against the pain as she and her cellmates were marched down the long hall. Each breath in proved to be an agonizing affair. Pins and needles seized her side as she struggled to maintain a straightened posture.

S-something’s wrong.

No small amount of panic began to set in as the blonde now struggled to breathe evenly. Her lungs felt as if they were being painfully squeezed. When she appeared as though she would collapse at any moment, one of the guards grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder. She gasped at the pain that shot through her side once more.

The grim looks on her companion’s faces did little to bring the ailing lieutenant reassurance. She locked eyes with Vincent. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I… I’m not going to get to keep my promise. She looked to Kurt. His eyes were a storm of mixed emotions: Anger, sorrow, fear…resignation.

The blonde hung her head.

Vincent felt his heart squeeze painfully. She couldn’t give up. She just couldn’t. Not after they’d come so far. His eyes darted along the rows of cells as they passed, noting a strange detail that had eluded him until this moment: Where were the prisoners?

Before the teen was permitted to dwell too deeply on the matter, they were turned down a longer, dark hallway. The route was unfamiliar territory. In all their time here, he couldn’t remember having ever traversed this particular corridor.

The hall was devoid of any windows, its only illumination coming from a few scattered light fixtures attached to the walls. There was a foreboding silence that Vincent quickly found himself loathing as an eerie chill settled into his bones, a chill that not even the bright light at the end of the hall could banish.

“In ya go,” the guard carrying Alice spoke, motioning the other two teens forward.

Vincent found his feet refused to move when the brute still carrying his love failed to take the first steps through the doorway.

I choose you.

A yelp was torn from the brunette’s lips when his failure to move yielded him nothing more than a blow to the back of his head from the guard behind him.

“Get moving!”

Sparing one last glance at the blonde, Vincent stepped through the door, followed by Kurt. The sunlight was nearly blinding as the teen squinted briefly to get a better picture of his surroundings. Amber eyes widened. What was this place?

A large, glass dome stretched far above them, reaching toward the sky in a dazzling architectural display. Several feet below the elevated platform they were standing on, a spacious, fenced-in area made up an arena. Rows of occupied benches stretched in both directions of the yard.

Found the prisoners.

Vincent glared as Cain turned to them with a predator’s smile. “How’s this for showmanship?”

The guard carrying Alice entered the room. He dumped the injured woman unceremoniously onto the hard, stone floor. The yelp that would have escaped her was abruptly cut off as she curled herself into a ball, not even having enough left in her to stand.

Cain scrutinized the group for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Looks like we have room for one more player. Carter, if you please.”

All three teens’ eyes widened as a familiar guard suddenly appeared from behind them, Matthew slung over his shoulder.

“Let me go!”

At Vincent’s murderous glare, Cain shrugged. “What? You think I didn’t know the little snot was sneaking around with you guys this whole time?” He paused, shaking his head. “You know, I could forgive the food, even though it was technically a punishable offense. However, his role in Shan’s murder I can’t overlook.”

“What are you talking about?” Kurt protested.

Cain smiled as Alice looked away. Marching over, he tucked a finger beneath the girl’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “That’s right, sweetheart. This is all your fault. You just couldn’t play nice, could you? Just had to have the last word.” He released her then, straightening his posture. “Well, you may have the last word, but it’s going to be me who laughs last.”

Any retort the blonde may have had was cut short as Cain drew his leg back before delivering a hard blow to the girl’s left side.

The blonde yelped as she rolled. Terror flashed in her sapphire eyes as she tipped over the edge of the platform. Her hand shot out of its own accord, clinging to the stone surface for dear life.

“Alice!” Vincent and Kurt cried in unison.

Pain ignited through her ribs as her body dangled along the edge.

“Now, weren’t you saying earlier something to the effect of how I was the one at risk of tumbling off the edge?” Cain asked as he loomed above her. “Because, from where I’m standing, it certainly doesn’t look that way. From here, it looks the other way around.”

Alice regretted her choice of words from earlier in the day. Not that she’d let that monster know that. She wouldn’t beg him for mercy. It was evident through the trouble he’d gone to arranging this show there’d be none given to her.

“Well, even from down here, you still look pathetic,” she said with a pained grin. If the agony stabbing into her ribs weren’t so intense, she would have snatched his ankle and attempted to pull him down into the arena with her.

Cain laughed. “Fiery to the very end,” he chuckled as he unclipped the baton on his belt. He extended the metal point of his weapon.

“Stop it,” Vincent shouted, his lungs burning raw from the intensity of his yell. “Don’t do this!”

His brother spared him a glance and a cruel smile before he looked back to Alice and wailed down on her. The metal tip struck the woman’s knuckles.

Alice felt a snap as her hand burned. She lost control of the motion in her fingers, the ligaments locked into place. Her heart thundered as the world around her went into slow motion with her descent.

She hit the floor of the arena hard. Ribs roared with fury; her hand exploded in hot agony while the blood forced itself out of the split skin above her knuckles. Yet the thoughts whirling in her head like a tornado caused her more harm than any of the wounds inflicted upon her body.

I failed everyone. Matthew. Kurt. Vincent. The last name on that list carried the heaviest weight, one so immense it left her incapable of holding back the tears. Screaming erupted around her.

Vincent found his cries drowned out within the bedlam. Everything they’d fought for at this precise moment, every day they’d bled through during their struggle to survive was being taken away from them. All for some cheap entertainment.

Cain looked to him and chuckled. He made a motion. The guard behind him let him go.

Vincent screamed in fury. His feet carried him to the sadist. As he reeled his fist back, Cain weaved to the side. The baton made contact with his thigh. The sting from the hit buckled his leg out from underneath him. He felt the concrete scrape his knee.

“Oh, my God!” someone screamed from the crowd.

The cry for salvation was not reserved for the likes of Vincent. The gate on the other side of the arena had groaned from being opened. Some sort of pulley was used to raise the giant, iron bars.

What lied behind them made the teen’s blood run cold.

Golden eyes peered eagerly at injured prey. Massive paws stalked forward in measured, calculated steps. A majestic mane decorated the predator’s neck. The lion flicked its tongue across its curled lips, revealing a powerful set of fangs that were prepared to rend flesh and bone alike.

Alice staggered, falling over once before she could properly stand on her own two feet. Her tenable position became all for naught as two more lions emerged from the dark corridor ahead of her. One male. Two females. All three relentless killers.

A blur landed to her immediate right, startling her out of her skin as she nearly tumbled over from the sudden motion. Is that a…pipe?

“Defend yourself!” one of the guards shouted above her.

So that was the game. Her eyes darted back to her front as one of the female lions bounded forward.

Do or die, Alice thought.

With her left hand, she snatched up the pipe. She thrust the steel out in front of her. Her speed proved to be the only thing that spared her from three hundred pounds of fur and claws.

The weight of the beast’s massive paw flung her against the wall. Her teeth rattled as her body surged with discomfort from the blow. She leapt back to her feet. Paws bounded forward. Alice had little time to regain her bearings when teeth snapped at her, the beast’s hot saliva splattered onto her face.

Much to the displeasure of the lioness, the only thing captured in its mouth was the steel weapon its prey wielded.

Alice’s injured hand trembled as she pushed onto the pipe with all her might. The other lions stalked around as she contended with the agitated female. It wouldn’t be long before they’d pounce into the fray. Before they feasted upon her.

****

Jack O’Connor’s eyes widened in disbelief as he made his way into the arena. He had never cared for the coliseum. He’d only seen it used once, when the warden decided to thin the population of the prison by a third one year ago. The screams still remained fresh on his mind.

He knew they had lions in the facility. He’d been tasked as the animal handler’s aid a time or two. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined they’d see action with a prisoner. Not like this.

The acting-head of the prison glared at Cain. The brunette had snatched a young boy by the crook of his arm, dangling him towards the edge of the platform. He recognized the kitchen slave. Not that the identity of the boy mattered to him; he hadn’t sanctioned any of this. Vladsco would have all their heads mounted onto a spike for this outrage.

“Cain, I order you to stop this at once!” he shouted. “I will have order!”

The roar of the arena was deafeningly loud. He felt like his own hearing was failing him from the thunderous din. No one could hear him through the turmoil.

His eyes darted into the arena. He gulped as he recognized the petite figure in the fighting pit below him: Golden Phoenix.

Yet, somehow, the sight of the battered woman wasn’t the strangest thing he saw. Several of the guards were flung into the pit by the crowd. No. This wasn’t a mere crowd. It was a bloody mob. Every man and woman for themselves taking a chance amid the mayhem.

Many of the guards were trying to contain the flood of rioters. Some of the prisoners had unveiled shivs. They weren’t shy about employing the crudely made knives and razors.

Another subset of the prisoners began to use their powers as electricity trailed through the air. The glass above shattered, sending gigantic shards of blades down onto the crowd. Many of them were cut to ribbons. One of the guards decapitated, their headless form shambled into the pit.

The male lion turned his attention to the meal freely provided. Predators cherished, above all else, easy prey. Yet cats were very different than the typical predator. The male lions allowed the females to do the work when it came to hunting. Big cats carried a unique behavior: They preferred playing with their food, especially while their bounty was still alive.

The second lioness sprang forward at one of the living guards who had the misfortune of twisting his ankle during their fall. Not that his screams could be heard. Not when his throat had been pierced by the cat’s teeth.

Jack forced himself to look away from the sight. His stomach churned from the brutality of it all. He couldn’t do this anymore.

He had spent the past few months feeling empty. Doing the same thing, tormenting the heathens. Yet he felt no pleasure. He didn’t feel righteous fracturing the skull of a prisoner. Would a man of God take pleasure in shooting a pregnant woman? He’d not done that himself, but he’d seen a newly-graduated recruit do it. And did the responsible soldier express humility? No. He got a pat on the back and had himself a beer in celebration of his first kill.

Desperation brought Jack to pray to God, something he hadn’t done since he was a young child. He prayed to God for a sign, any sign, that what he was doing was right.

People turning into animals before him, a child seconds away from being tossed into the pit. If that didn’t signify the most massive hell of a no from the Almighty, he didn’t know what else could.

Snatching a rifle from one of the downed guards, he followed what his heart told him to do. He aimed his weapon. The lioness gorging upon the dismembered guard was covered in entrails and viscera. The trigger squeezed far easier than he imagined it would. The animal collapsed to the ground. He squeezed four more times at the beast’s downed form, ensuring its jaw would never again steal life.

****

Vincent groaned, shuffling to his feet. Cain didn’t look at him. He didn’t spare the time for such a thing, not when his eyes were focused upon the soldier killing his prize. It was clear from the mixture of panic and fury on his brother’s face that he no longer maintained anything resembling control.

“What the hell are you doing to my lions?!” he screamed.

Matthew’s tiny frame squirmed within Cain’s arms. He struggled as the boy snatched at his wrist. There was only so much a small child could do against a bigger adversary as Cain successfully overpowered him. He drew a service pistol, aiming it toward Jack.

Vincent let out a primal shout as he dashed forward. The gun in Cain’s hand fired. Then the two of them fell over the railing together. Both teens landed hard onto the ground. The firearm skidded along the floor out of their immediate reach.

His brother rose first. He looked around with a dazed look on his countenance, like he hadn’t puzzled together what was happening around him. The stupor left him when Vincent’s fist collided into his temple.

Cain yelped, falling to the ground. He wasn’t such a good fighter when he didn’t have a weapon handy.

Vincent hammered him. Again and again. His own knuckles split open from how hard he kept hitting him, having visibly bloodied and broken his adversary’s nose. He wouldn’t be content till he’d killed this animal that had dared to have his way with Alice. To make the woman he loved cry out in anguish.

Never again. Not with the one I love.

He arched his fist back; before it could connect with Cain’s face, the air left Vincent’s lungs. Cain’s fist collided against his neck. Trembling fingers clutched at his own throat as he fell to the ground, struggling to breathe.

His brother didn’t continue attacking him. Instead, he made a beeline for the lost gun.

Cain’s eyes were wide with elation as he leapt for his service pistol. His fingers latched onto the handle, and he raised his weapon.

Jubilation gave way to fear as Golden Phoenix approached him. He felt his heart turn cold as he witnessed the tranquil fury that resided within her eyes. The woman’s face transformed into a cold mask devoid of such things as compassion and mercy. Such things didn’t exist for him.

How is she alive? How?!

When Cain dared look at her hands, he had his answers. They were coated in black like she’d dug them into a pile of soot. Behind the young woman lied the charred remains of the lioness. The face had been partially melted off, while the head of it was scalded in spots of red mixed with black lumps that had formed from the burning.

“I never got the chance to thank you,” she spoke with pure hatred flaring within her voice. She raised her blackened hand towards him. “For everything.”

Cain forced a smile and raised his gun. She couldn’t produce a flame instantly. He’d shoot her dead before—the barrel of his firearm exploded. His right hand became mangled with shards from his iron weapon. He cried out in terror. Feeling within his fingers was but a distant memory.

“This time your little collar won’t save you.”

“G-go to hell!”

She pulled out something from her sleeve. The tiny object glistened in the light of the evening sun. A little souvenir from her experience in the coliseum. He looked on in mute horror as he recognized the smuggled object.

In one swift motion, the glass shard claimed his eye. Cain screamed as blood and jelly spilled from the slit organ. He rolled along the ground, overcome with the pain.

The angel of death raised what remained of the glass fragment once more, likely with plans to slit his throat or carve out his heart. She might’ve even sent him to the venue he proposed. The final blow never came as the weapon clattered along the ground.

Color drained from Alice’s face as she fell to her knees with her hands clutching her side. Blood poured out of it from where she’d been injured in her skirmish with the lioness. Before she could fall to the floor, a pair of hands held her.

Her vision blurred. Even through the fog, she recognized the warm pair of amber eyes that gazed at her with concern.

“Come on. We’ve got to go.”

She had no argument in her. If she did, she might’ve inquired where. Such a thing didn’t matter now. Leaving sounded perfect. Like heaven. Anywhere but here.

Vincent pulled her onto her feet, resting her against him as he slung her arm over his shoulders. Though her ribs screamed in protest, she didn’t cry out from it. It hurt to feel, at least when she found it in her to do so.

“Come on!” a small voice yelled above them. Matthew’s voice.

A clicking noise resounded loudly as a metal ladder lowered from the top of the platform. Vincent eagerly clamped his hand upon it. As his flesh made contact, he heard an unmistakable roar behind him.

The teen turned and found himself face to face with an angered lion. He shoved Alice behind him, positioning himself in front of her. He braced himself to be torn limb from limb.

A burst of gunfire instantly brought down the creature mid-charge.

Confusion washed over him as his eyes scanned the platform. Jack stood there with smoke escaping the tip of his rifle. The man nodded at him before he lowered his weapon.

Vincent was grateful for Jack’s mercy. His kind act had saved their lives. Enemy or not, he was in his debt.

“Can you climb, Lieutenant?”

Alice laughed darkly, though the pained expression on her face made it clear that spontaneous sound and movement was a bad idea. “I don’t have much choice in the matter.”

A look mired in pity crossed Vincent’s graceful features. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. He wrapped his hands around her waist and helped her up the ladder.

I choose you.

Those words echoed in her mind, bringing warmth to her cheeks. At least that romantic sentiment did wonders for stealing her thoughts away from her body’s discontent.

When they made it to the top of the platform, both Kurt and Matthew awaited them.

“Alice, we can get out.”

She found herself taken aback by Kurt’s proclamation. The woman didn’t have any interest in quizzing him on his newfound optimism. She’d eagerly accept any plan to get them far away from this madhouse.

Matthew’s head emphatically raised up and down like one of those bobblehead toys she remembered seeing as a young child.

“There’s a passage in the basement. It’s our only chance.”

Alice nodded. By now, the blonde was struggling just to remain standing. She glanced briefly at the expectant faces gazing back at her. As much as her body seemed to cry out its resignation to her fate, she had to keep going. “I-I think I know the way, but it’s been so long. Why don’t you lead us, Matthew?”

Matthew’s face beamed with pride as he hastily nodded.

“I’m going with you,” Jack commented, giving the group pause. “I can help clear the path, and my master keys will definitely make the way easier.”

Kurt wildly shook his head. There was no way he was going to allow a soldier of The Order to go along with them. “Oh, no. Hell no! Why on earth should we let you come along? Even if you don’t slow us down, what reason do we have to believe that you won’t betray us?”

Vincent frowned. For once, he could almost see the other brunette’s point. However… “He goes. We owe him.”

When it appeared as though Kurt would object again, Alice managed a glare. “We don’t have time for a debate right now, Kurt. It’s not going to be long before the guards regroup. We need to be as far away as possible before that happens.”

“What are we waiting for?! Come on!” Matthew shouted, pulling on the teen scientist’s arm. “We gotta go!”

Kurt sent a final glare in Jack’s direction before sighing in resignation. It wouldn’t do any good. They were out of time. If they lingered any longer, their window of opportunity was sure to close; never to open again. “Fine. Then let’s get moving.”

“Can you run?” Vincent whispered to the blonde leaning heavily onto him for support.

Alice seemed to groan in agony at the mere notion. She closed her eyes. Just a little longer. Try… She quirked a tiny smile. “No choice, right?”

Vincent slipped his hand into hers, gently brushing his thumb along the knuckles of her uninjured hand. “Then don’t let go. If you fall, I can carry you the rest of the way.”

If they weren’t in a life-or-death situation, Alice would’ve entertained letting her feet fail her within the span of a few strides. She had to confess Vincent carried a chivalrous charm about him that never ceased to arouse her interest.

All the romantic musings in the world wouldn’t mean anything if they didn’t leave now. The burst of gunfire behind them reinforced that fact. More guards rushed into the coliseum to contend with the rioting crowd, or at least what remained of the fortunate ones that hadn’t perished from the shattered dome.

The group ran. Corridors zoomed by them in a blurred vision of muted colors. All the winding sets of hallways started to look the same in the maze of madness that surrounded them. Only Jack and Matthew seemed to possess a sense of direction.

They clung to the walls as a part of their charge. Once Matthew signaled the area was clear, they’d continue their run to the west wing. Better to play it cautiously than to whirl past a corner and get riddled to death by a hailstorm of bullets.

Fortunately, they’d been lucky. The only souls they encountered were a small group of prisoners making a mad dash in the opposite direction. If Alice were pressed to rationalize their motivation, she’d wager they planned on taking their chances escaping through the front gates of the facility. If her assessment proved accurate, those convicts were as good as dead. The guards mounting the towers would gun them down seconds before they made it out of the prison’s courtyard.

That was their problem. Alice preferred not resembling Swiss cheese with a side of lead.

The lieutenant’s stomach churned when they descended the set of stairs that led into the basement; a musty smell reeked from the dilapidated walls coated in crude patches of grime and mold. Despite the state of disrepair, the place still carried holding cells and cages. With the prison’s purpose of being a glorified murder factory, respiratory failure seemed benign in comparison to the other carnival of horrors the facility hosted.

Yet something about this dreary place felt familiar to Alice. Perhaps it was the pungent smell, but bells rang inside the lieutenant’s head. However, the melody they carried offered no hint of nostalgia.

Needles and blood.

She shook her head, dispelling the spontaneity of her thoughts. There was little time to be whisked away by the persistent grip of unwanted memories. Not when death followed closely behind them.

A wooden door sat in the corner of the room. Vincent’s grip tightened on Alice’s hand as a strange mixture of emotions ran across his face. He glanced towards her, offering an awkward smile as he did so. She didn’t feel entirely certain if the boy performed the gesture to ease her discomfort or his own. Still, she could think of far worse views. Alice would accept the sight of a friendly face any day.

“In here,” Matthew said in a hushed whisper. Something harsh lurked in the child’s tone. “It’s dark, but I’ve been out this way before.”

Jack nodded. “The tunnel does have its twists and turns. All of you put your hands on the back of the person in front of you,” he instructed. His features darkened as his eyes scanned over his tired companions. “Unless you never wish to see the light of day again.”

The aged door creaked open to reveal a world of darkness; a gloomy place that stood between them and freedom. Before they stepped forward, Kurt piped up.

“What about our ankle bracelets?”

Jack looked at him with remorse in his eyes. “Afraid my master key is only for rooms within the facility. Doesn’t go to them.”

“How convenient,” Kurt said through narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry I skimmed over that detail. Didn’t exactly wake up with plans to abandon my life.”

“Why did you?” Vincent asked.

Jack looked to him. “Do you really think it wise to have that conversation right now?”

Vincent averted his gaze to the floor. He understood any remaining time they had left was a luxury, one that became increasingly scarce with every passing second.

Kurt looked to Alice, desperate to puzzle together anything that at least resembled a viable course of action. “In the pit, I saw you burn that lion. How are you still awake?”

For once, Vincent appreciated Kurt’s question. That was honestly something he hadn’t considered. His mind had been more preoccupied on immediate concerns: Namely, survival.

“I burned clothing,” Alice replied in a dry tone.

“Why?”

Vincent felt a knot tie itself in his gut. Flashes of red ran through his vision as the memories came back to him in a flood. Every impact of the hammer stained him. In a way, the killing came almost too easily, beating remorse in his race of emotions.

“Any display of power would’ve triggered the tranquilizer. I got some good sleep with it. Besides, it made for a good test. Obviously, there are flaws to their system.”

The teen appreciated her discretion. He’d already grown tired of being called a traitor. The honor of murderer didn’t need added to Kurt’s list of canned remarks he could use to disparage him whenever the boy found himself in one of his moods.

Jack nodded in agreement. “The tracking has to be turned on. Unless you weren’t accounted for, there’d be little reason for us to use that function.”

“Lucky us, but it doesn’t change our immediate problem,” she pointed her thumb at the two teens while she spoke. “How far can they get before they take a trip to la-la land?”

The answer came without hesitation. “Not very far.”

Kurt flicked his tongue across his lips. “We could try something. No guarantee it’ll work, but I could try short-circuiting the bracelet.”

“Others have tried,” Jack replied. “Slamming it against hard surfaces, submerging it in water-”

“Zapping it with a surge of electricity?”

The soldier’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “We-well, I can’t honestly say I’ve seen that tried. It could work.”

“It’s going to have to,” Alice said. “If you’re going to do it, you better act now.”

Kurt slid the leg of his jumpsuit past his ankle and to his shin. The teen bit his lip, looking to his sister for encouragement which came in the form of a nod. Electricity crackled between his fingertips. He pressed on the device attached to him.

Smoke sparked from the machine. A whirring noise went off as something rotated within the bracelet. Kurt’s face paled upon the sudden sound. Licking his lips, he pressed down once more. The device gave a click before it unlatched itself from his ankle.

A relieved smile formed on the young man’s face. Where Alice had experienced the sedative, she knew it hit within the span of a minute. Though she couldn’t recall any noise that came with its discharge. He might’ve successfully outwitted the system. That bit of hope brought a smile to her face, one of the only genuine ones she’d experienced since their arrival to Fort Brein.

“How are you feeling?” Vincent asked.

Kurt smiled. “Like I’ve got the magic touch,” he said with elation dancing in his tone. The teen held out his hands. “Well, give me your leg.”

Vincent didn’t need to be told twice, not when the promise of freedom came with his cooperation. He mimicked Kurt, sliding the leg of his pants to his shin.

The sparks came in an instant. Vincent grunted, feeling the burn from the mechanical device. Again, he considered it a paltry price to pay for a chance at escape.

For another day with Alice, he thought, unable to resist stealing a glance in the blonde’s direction. His lieutenant smiled at him, which unleashed the butterflies that fluttered in the pit of his stomach. His cheeks heated at the sight of the blonde’s relief.

The device clattered onto the ground. Vincent kicked the bracelet. The machine skidded along the floor, clanging against one of the nearby cages.

He felt fine, which was something he never thought he’d experience here. He even felt, for the span of a minute, conveniently forgetting all the verbal jabs the teen had hit him with, that their miserable companion had finally redeemed itself.

Jack took a handkerchief and wiped it across his head, relieved that Kurt’s plan went off without a hitch. “Thank God.”

“Given I did all the work-” Kurt started before an audible noise resounded above them. The slamming of steel doors. They had company; a band of hosts that wouldn’t be too keen on watching them escape their grasp.

Matthew shot them a look rife with panic. “Come on!”

They advanced into the tunnel. Vincent wasn’t sure why they’d made a show about how dark the room was. While light didn’t exactly illuminate the area, he wouldn’t have described the place as pitch-black.

He softly looked to Alice as he felt the woman squeeze his hand.

“Not scared of the dark, are you?”

She shook her head. “Scared I’ll lose you.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him off guard. To be honest, that should’ve been his line to her, given her present condition. Still, the sentiment she voiced gave rise to more heat within his cheeks. It felt nice knowing he remained wanted.

Everything about her captivated him. Even back then.

Back then, he thought. He winced at the ensuing headache throbbing against his temples. He struggled to conjure memories of the past. Back when he’d caught glances of her meek form peering around the corner at Derwent’s base?

No. His enthrallment came even before then. If there ever was a before then. A time celebrated with colored, candy-coated chocolate given to a pair of feeble hands.

“Are you alright?” Alice whispered.

The group stopped to stare at him. Jack regarded him with an impatient countenance. “We can’t stop now.”

“I kn-know that. I’m fine.”

The eyes all left him, save for the ones belonging to his commanding officer.

He bit back his pain that came with the headache. He wasn’t sure why he thought of giving candy to anyone. Let alone anyone locked behind a holding cell past the dead bodies of their guardians. It was funny how long a pair of adult men could last when their lungs flooded with water. When they reached out to your leg, looking for any mercy that could be spared. Desperation turning to despair when the eyes they gazed into merely observed their suffering with keen interest.

The musty smell of the tunnel. The delicate hand he held onto filled with warmth. He knew now he’d seen her before his awakening at the base.

Alice had definitely been a captive here before. And in the blurriest reaches of his mind, her face seemed clearer than ever to him. He led her to safety. Again. This wasn’t the first time. It couldn’t be.

“You’re staring,” the woman remarked.

Vincent felt his heart leap into his throat at the bluntness of her statement. It felt like a dream to him. He hadn’t even realized he’d slowly angled his head towards her.

“Undress her with your eyes elsewhere,” Kurt murmured.

The butterflies in his stomach flew with greater intensity. He nervously looked away, feeling his cheeks sear in embarrassment.

They continued walking in silence. The tunnel seemed to stretch on into eternity much to the protest of his aching feet. He felt a tug on his sleeve from a smaller hand.

Vincent turned to face her. Warm lips met his cheek. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as his lieutenant pressed a finger against his mouth. “I didn’t say I had a problem with it,” she whispered.

He stifled back nervous laughter. He had to get a grip on himself. Now wasn’t the time to be indulging in fantasy. Even if he’d have found contentment with any escape involving her.

After another minute of walking, they found light that bled into the caverns they traversed. A bright world promising salvation awaited them.

He squeezed Alice’s hand as he spared another glance at the woman. She looked seconds away from collapsing. He pulled her close to him, letting the blonde rest her head into his chest.

Freedom had never looked brighter, yet still seemed so far away.