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“Electra?” I use her name, hoping to make a connection with her. “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head. Her lips are pressed together very tightly. Her eyes are lit with vicious mischief. There is a light there which suggests she is enjoying this, even the rougher handling.
There is no doubt she is pretty. A riot of platinum curls goes in all directions, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks gives her an aura of innocence which I know is nothing more than a facade. Most people here are more than what they seem.
“What are you doing, running around cutting people?”
She gives a shrug. The corners of her lips tighten a little, but her mouth doesn’t move. I don’t think she’s staying quiet on purpose, and I don’t think this is another case of selective mutism. I think she has something in her mouth, held between her teeth.
“Spit it out.” I put a bass-note of authority into my voice.
Her eyes widen in a fake display of innocence. Ken is keeping her from physically hurting anyone else, but if she has something sharp in her mouth, the next person to get hurt could be her.
“I know you’ve got something,” I say, my voice dropping to a lower note. “Drop it. Now.”
She pouts and lets her toy drop like a scolded puppy. There’s a light tinkling sound as it lands on the ground.. It’s a razor blade. There’s medical tape wrapped on one side, but the other is sharp and laced with blood. This is the most dangerous thing I have seen in a long time. She could have cut her tongue off. She could have lacerated her cheeks, or her gums. Only a maniac or someone entirely desperate would resort to a measure like this.
Electra
“Jesus.”
The doctor swears under his breath as I relinquish my weapon. Funny that he should be one of the ones to catch me. What are the odds? I smirk at his outrage. I have cut myself a little, but that will heal. I’m used to the taste of blood. I’m used to all of this, the yelling, the shouting, the bleeding, and the beating which will probably come once they get me back under control.
“Look at this, Ken,” the doctor says. What was his name again? Something to do with war. I’m surprised he remembered my name when I don’t remember his.
“She had a razor in her face.”
I look over at the man he’s talking to. The one I ran into, who moved into my path when I was looking back over my shoulder. I should never have looked back. That’s always a mistake. When you’re running, you gotta keep running.
They look a lot alike. Brothers, maybe. The one holding me isn’t too bad. Usually they do the cuffs up tighter than he has, wrench my arms back more aggressively, put more of their weight between my shoulders. He’s not doing that. The one in front of me, the doctor, would have to be the older brother.
“Young lady, you could have cut the inside of your mouth to shreds with this,” he growls.
Like he cares. Wait. Does he care?
“There’s tape on one side to stop that happening.”
“And on the other?”
“Practice.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t put razor blades in your mouth,” he says firmly. “It’s not safe.”
The lecture is laughable. What do I care about safety? Who in this place could begin to give even the slightest shit about safety? Is he on some kind of work placement? Does he not know what goes on behind the doors I just came out of? Nope. Looking around, I see all the signs that what’s out here is just as bad. There’s a death arena sunk into the floor, and there’s two people fighting in it, a girl and a guy, hitting one another unabated as this goes down.
“You must be new here,” I snort at him. “We all chew glass and shit detonators here.”
He smiles. He has a nice smile. His face is just as handsome as I remember it, made hard and broad and strong. This place is full of thick browed, hard-chinned meat heads. Superficially I guess he could be one of them, but there’s something about him that suggests a kinder side. Must be those green eyes. Usually people look at me with their eyes all narrow and stress lines zooming out all around their faces. This guy isn’t worried by me.
He probably should be.
Tom
Before I can reply to her flippant remark, fresh hell breaks loose. Someone hits an alarm several minutes too late and makes red lights blind everybody, along with a wailing siren adding more general chaos. Six guys with guns burst in far too late to be useful in stopping Electra, but in plenty of time to add drama to the situation.
