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One
Ana
This is it. The moment all my years of hiding, pretending to be a man, finally come crumbling to the ground. So much work and training, all for nothing. The clipped hair and wrapped chest have at least kept my secret safe, but since I’ve been caught, I can’t expect my gender to stay hidden much longer. The tight band wrapped around my breasts makes it even harder to get my breathing under control and I have to force myself to take shallow breaths.
“Line them up!” a voice shouts close to me, and I dip my head down out of instinct. Even with my disguise, I still fear someone will look at my face and deem it too feminine. Cheekbones, a bit too high. Lips, a little too full. Even pretty boys aren’t safe these days.
Mud on my face, and constantly chewing my lips helps a bit, but one day someone may look too closely.
The man next to me eyes me critically and for a moment, I worry, but he only laughs.
“Don’t worry, little boy, you may be too young for prison. Perhaps you’ll get lucky and they’ll shoot you in the head instead.” He laughs again, and I narrow my eyes at him but say nothing. I know very well what happens to those deemed too young for The Tomb, the more common name for D1219 Prison.
A Tomb is exactly what it is too. A prison run by inmates too unruly for guards to stay within the walls. There is no leaving except in death.
I still can’t believe I was caught.
All my tricks, my disguises and hiding, I am still standing here about to be shot or thrown into The Tomb.
This fucking sucks.
I try to stand tall as the militia line us up.Live another dayis a good motto, after all. The rain is pouring down and I am thankful for it, if only for the visibility it limits. It’s still humid though and I’m sweating under the heavy layers. My entire body is tense and my feet squelch in the mud while I wait for my turn. The man on the other side of me is growling as another comes up and glares at him. The militia doesn’t appear to like it, because he slams his club into the man’s stomach before shouting, “Tomb!”and moving in front of me.
I keep my eyes down, even after he rips the hat from my head and tosses it to my feet. My heart is pounding so loud it’s deafening. I wait for his decision, and I can’t believe I’m in a situation where the Tomb is the preferred choice. After what feels like hours but is only seconds, the militiaman leans down, and I grimace at the feel of his hot breath on my cheek.
“Pretty and young,” he says quietly as he chuckles. “They are going to love you.”
Stepping away from me, he shouts, “Tomb!”
I grab my hat before another man tugs me away from the line, shoving me unceremoniously into the back of a truck. It’s pitch black, even with a few slits along the side of the compartment I’m in. It smells like sweat, fear, and wet dog. I make my way through using my hand to guide me. There’s enough light coming in from behind me at least I don’t step on anyone, and thankfully those inside don’t pay me much mind. I move until I get to the back, leaning against the wall while I wait to go to a new hell. My soon to be home, The Tomb.
Everyone in this part of the world has heard of The Tomb, even if it’s just muttered rumors. In reality, it was the first prison in New Europe to expel all its interior guards and staff. This much I know from the papers I’ve read over the years. It happened a few decades ago, but it’s still a big deal.
A prison run entirely by the prisoners, with heavy exterior manpower, whose only job is to keep them inside. There are no rights, rules, or laws in a place like that.
And this is why, as a young woman disguised as a boy, I am totally fucked.
Two
Axle
Igrit my teeth as I stalk the pit, never taking my glare off the man in front of me. I can see the fear in his eyes, and I can only imagine the manic look on my face when he literally pisses his pants. My smile drops. There is so much less enjoyment in beating a piss-ant like this, but I need to maintain power. And if I’m being honest with myself, my body needs the chaos of violence and death. I was raised in a cell surrounded by blood and evil, it’s all I know.
I roar as I leap forward and the man screams, trying to claw up the wall of the pit. Idiot. I am on him in a second and it’s only the mud and the slickness of his skin that lets him slip through my grasp.
“P-please, Ax. I didn’t mean it!” the man begs as I continue to circle him. A pang of regret strikes me, but I can’t let it show. This man doesn’t deserve death, but if I don’t kill him someone else will. Plus, I haven’t killed in days and I need this. Crave it.
If I don’t release the bloodlust now, there is no telling what will happen later. I’ll say this for the Tomb; it feeds my fury well.
Faster than he can get away, I thrust forward and grip his bicep. He screams and tries to turn away.Bad idea. My hand grips tight and all he manages to do is pull his own arm from the socket, dislocating it. He screams in earnest now as his useless arm hangs at his side and he drops to his knees. I narrow my eyes at the pitiful sight before walking up behind him and twisting his neck. Around me, the roars of the crowd are deafening.
I stand impatiently by the side of the ring, savoring the moment of reprieve from the fire in my blood, in my bones. In this moment, I am God. The rope is lowered but I don’t look up, instead I close my eyes, inhaling deeply.
The smell of blood and mud and death fills my senses and I grin, laughing as my eyes shoot open. I reach out and grab the rope, planting my foot firmly on the tied bottom, and listen to the grunts above as I’m pulled up.
Stepping onto the platform above, words of praise rain down but I tune them out.
This wasn’t worthy of fucking rejoice.
