Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
"Are you going to attack me?" she whispers.
"No. Why would I do such a thing?" I crouch low, trying to make myself seem as helpless as possible, and I'm relieved when my spikes slowly sink back into my skin. The red is leaching from my eyes, but the frustrated anger simmers just below the surface, and I know it won't take much for me to lose control. The need to fix this for Mina, to protect her, is driving me insane. I reach out a hand to her and she turns away. "What did they show you to make you so afraid of me?"
She trembles hard, staring at a spot over my shoulder. She won't look me in the eye. "I thought you were just another gladiator. Another slave like me, just one that's being forced to fight. I didn't realize I was so wrong about you." Her gaze flicks over to meet mine and then just as quickly darts away again. "This is all a game to you, isn't it? You're just fucking with my head. This isn't who you are."
"I don't understand any of this," I snarl. "And I don't know what you're talking about. I would never lie to you. You're my only friend." Her hurtful words feel like knives, sinking into my spirit. "Tell me what they showed you."
"I saw vids of your fights." Her voice is dull, defeated.
"And…?" I prompt. There has to be more to this.
Mina shudders. "It was like a nightmare." She shakes her head. "I watched you…not fight. It wasn't a fight, because a fight implies that the other person can hold a candle to you. It was…a beating. It was torture. They'd throw someone in the ring with you and you'd just get this awful, evil look on your face." She swallows hard, her expression bleak as she hugs her knees. "I watched you dismember people for fun. I watched them bring a prize slave girl out to you. You raped her in the middle of the arena and then pulled her apart while she screamed. And I think to myself, that's not the Crulden I know. He would never do that. He didn't know how to touch me, and when he did, it was soft, and good. So either I'm the biggest fool ever or you're the best liar. Or both." Her eyes fill up. "And it hurts me, because I trusted you. I trusted you and you're a monster."
This time, I flinch. She sees me as a monster again. To her, I'm the nightmare in the vids she watched. I wish I knew what she was talking about. I try to drag up memories of old matches, bouts that I clearly won since I am alive and yet…there is nothing. Why is it that I know dozens of fighting moves and the minute details of arena rule changes, and yet I cannot recall a single bout? There is nothing there in my memories. "It wasn't me. I didn't do that."
"But you did," she says softly. "I watched you. I know your face."
"I would never hurt you."
"How am I supposed to know that?" She shakes her head, not looking at me. "And how am I supposed to believe that when you gleefully hurt other people? What you did to that woman…" Mina swallows hard. "I'm never going to be able to get the sight of it out of my head."
"Mina," I call softly, and hold my hand out to her, palm up. "I swear to you. I would never hurt you. You are the only good thing in my life."
Her gaze lands on my extended hand and she stares at it, not taking it. "Your claws," she says softly. "I watched you sink those into someone's back. Just…just to hurt him. He wasn't going to beat you. You just wanted to make him scream." And she huddles against the wall again, like if she presses against it hard enough, she will somehow escape this cell.
Escape me.
I know in this moment that if they gave her the choice, she would turn her back on me and never return. The thought doesn't fill me with anger, but a dull ache. I'm the monster to her. I'll never be anything but a monster she's forced to endure. I stare down at my hand, at the hook-like, deadly claws tipping each finger. Claws that my trainers have been encouraging me to use more in practice fights.
I hate them. I hate them as much as I hate myself. With a feral growl, I shove a finger into my mouth and use my teeth to saw each claw off, down to the quick. I don't care that I'm taking a tool away from myself—I just want Mina to stop looking at me with fear. I want her to like me again. I get rid of claw after claw, spitting the remnants aside onto the floor, and when both of my hands are free of them, I flex my fingers and then hold my hand out to her again. She's been silent all this time, and when I extend my palm toward her once more, she looks up at me, and her eyes are shiny with tears.