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The Head called for backup the moment I leaped from the bench, but it’s going to take them at least thirty seconds to get in here, and in those thirty seconds, I can do a lot of damage.
Tyko is starting to go blue by the time the others arrive, their batons drawn. They’re shouting, but I can’t shout back. The mask makes me silent and the drugs he injected me with make me slow. That doesn’t stop them from hitting me hard and indiscriminately. The wood blasts against my arms, my back, my legs until they drag me off my prey bloodied and bruised and laughing into the mask he thought would make him safe. None of them will ever be safe as long as they keep me here. I’ll be healed from their blows in a matter of minutes, but they’ll feel my wrath forever.
“Get him to the medical bay,” the Head orders. “Now!”
They carry Tyko out. He’s breathing on his own. He’s fine. He’s barely hurt. But he will think twice before he jabs me with that shit again.
The Head is looking at me with cold fury. She thinks she’s so strong. She thinks she’s the boss of everyone. But she doesn’t dare come into the cage herself. She knows what I’d do to her. And she knows I’d enjoy it.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Electra,” she says. She’s trying to stay calm, but I can see the way her nostrils are flaring with adrenaline and anger. I know what effect I have on her. She’s using the name she insists belongs to me, but I don’t recognize.
I can’t speak. The mask won’t let me. It wouldn’t matter if I could. It does have to be this way. This is the only way I have to express myself. These are the only moments of freedom I get, when violence explodes through me and I am no longer their captive, but their tormentor.
“Get in there and secure her, please,” she says, addressing her backup goons. This place has an unending supply of muscular male meat. I bet she fucks all of them.
They saw what I did to Tyko, but they still don’t hesitate to come in. I guess they think they have strength in numbers. I don’t know what it is going to take to convince these people to just get rid of me. Three men come into the cell and pick me up, holding me so securely I can’t move as they put me back into the chains, feet secured to floor, arms secured to wall. Then the Head steps into the cell with me. Easy for her, now that she’s in absolutely no danger at all. I can’t even say something she doesn’t want to hear.
She bends over in front of me, her eyes locked with mine. I feel an involuntary chill run down my spine. There’s something about this woman. Something which makes pain and fear spike inside me. It’s the pure control she has. It’s knowing that she decides if I live or die, and knowing that she won’t grant me either life or death. I am existing in this twilight state of being a prisoner until she breaks me, or I break her.
“I’m not going to let you go,” she says calmly. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care who you hurt. I don’t care if you have to be chained up for the rest of your life, you’re not leaving here. This is it for you, Electra. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
I do not intend on losing the battle of wills with this woman. I may be her prisoner for now, but I have nothing but time. I can wait. Maybe I get to her today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe years from now. But one of these days, it’s going to be just her and me, and what I did to Tyko and the others is nothing compared to what I will do to her.
Tom
The last person I expected to see was agent Tyko back in my medical bay, especially not in the shape he’s in. Big bruises are evident around his neck. I can see the places where links of chain must have dug into his skin and muscle. It looks painful, though he will survive. I work to get him some pain relief and treat him for the swelling, make sure his airway isn’t seriously damaged or in danger of collapse.
His injuries are eye-openingly vicious. This isn’t like what she did in the medical bay, or by the Pit. These injuries could be catastrophically incompatible with continued living. She tried to kill him, and she did so brutally. I feel a certain amount of pity for the agent, who is clearly a very long way out of his depth with the woman he’s trying to handle. But that pity has its limits.
