Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
He has a chain in his right hand and a knife in the other. They want it to be an unfair match. Just how far are we willing to go to survive?
“Let’s see what you’ve got, big boy.” The man laughs just as another man enters and comes to stand next to him. He, too, is dressed the same while holding identical weapons.
In a world of shouting men, be the one who remains silent, my mother used to say all the time. If they cannot hear you, they won’t see you.
I’ve always preferred silence to mindless chitchat. Not because I wanted to go unnoticed but because they’re just words that mean nothing. No one cares how you feel or what you think. It’s about following rules and actions. A servant does as he’s told.
I step off the platform, ready to get this shit over with. The room is brighter, the air warmer, and I can feel the sweat running down my back.
The one on the left holds up his right hand and twirls the chain around. Whoosh…whoosh…
My ears pick up the sound as if it’s right by my head when he’s several feet away. Without thought, I go for his legs. To bring a giant down, you’ve got to take him out at the knees.
Rushing him, I bend down and wrap my arms around his knees, picking him up off the floor. He screams out as I carry him backward until we both hit the ground, knocking the wind out of him for just a second. I bet they’re both on adrenaline too, so I’ve got to make this quick before we all pass the fuck out.
The other one takes the opportunity and slams his knife into my side. Although I don’t feel it right now, I know I will very soon.
I get off the one on the floor and turn to face the other one. His eyes drop to his knife in my side and he smiles. He goes to lift the chain, and I remove the knife, throwing it at his face. It lands in his right eye, and he drops to his knees as the blood begins to drip from the knife.
I took the knife in order to use it as a weapon. They want us to be defenseless. Sometimes you’ve got to choose to be the sacrifice.
It’s a short victory because the other guy has the chain wrapped around my neck from behind, pulling me backward. Reaching up, I grip the links in my hands-forcing my fingers between the chain and my throat-and bend over, yanking the man over my back and slamming him onto the floor.
He rolls over, and I make my way to the dead guy as the other bounces to his feet. I yank the knife from his face and fling it at the one now standing. He moves at the last minute, and it lands in his vest.
Well, fuck. Now he’s got two knives and a chain.
The blood rushes in my ears, and I shake my head, trying to quiet the noise so I can think. Everything is moving so fast. My mind is racing like my heart. Everything goes in and out of sight, and I’m having trouble focusing on one thing for more than a second.
I grab the chain from the dead guy and bend down, whipping the chain to wrap around the other guy’s ankles and yank, knocking him to his back once again. I drag him toward me, and he flings one of the knives, barely missing my head. The second lands in my thigh, and I grind my teeth at the sting. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and the pain is setting in.
He twists onto his stomach and calls out like a little bitch as if anyone is going to help him. I remove the knife from my leg and slam it into the back of his neck, killing the second piece of shit.
Falling to my knees, I place my bloody hands on my blood-covered jeans. Fuck, I’m fading fast.
The door to my right opens, and I look over to see my father heading toward me with several other Lords. He doesn’t look proud or happy that I passed. He’s just glad I didn’t embarrass him. The bastard knows I didn’t do it for him.
TWO
HAIDYN
INITIATION
Devotion
Sophomore year at Barrington University
Everyone fears something. Whether it be as small as dying alone or as terrifying as drowning to death. It’s part of life. Especially the Lords. It’s all around us. But I’m not afraid of it. It’s inevitable and something that you can’t bargain with.
We are raised to know that in our world, it’s kill or be killed. So when put in this situation, it’s a no-brainer. Have I thought of how I’ll die? Sure. A bullet to the back of the head maybe? Or it might be slow and painful-my skin being ripped from my bones? Maybe someone sets me on fire? Who knows. But either way, when it comes, I’ll accept it.
So what am I afraid of if death isn’t it? I’m afraid of failing those that I love. Of letting my brothers down and leaving them to fend for themselves. I hate being unable to protect the ones who rely on me. And that’s the only reason I’m even doing these fucking initiations. Because they need me to help them through this shitty life we’ve been damned to live until someone takes us out.
I follow my father through the basement of Carnage. He came and woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to get dressed. It’s time. Another year, another test to prove I’m worthy to have his last name and one day run this hell.
We make our way through the plastic strip curtains and come to a stop when I see two women hanging from the ceiling in the open room. They’re a few feet apart, both stripped naked with their arms above their heads, secured with chains wrapped around their wrists. Black hoods cover both of their heads, and large metal collars are around their necks, secured in place to keep them from lowering their heads.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves. What the fuck is this? The initiation is supposed to be for me. My fear. Not anyone else.
A Lord stands between them with his back to me, dressed in his cloak and mask. He’s sharpening a knife. The sound wouldn’t normally bother me, but right now, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
My father turns to me. “You have a choice.”
“A choice?” I echo his words. Such a foreign concept. Because if I had a choice, I wouldn’t fucking be here.
The Lord sharpening his knife turns to face us, the knife in his hand. It’s me or them. That’s the only explanation I can think of. They cut them, or me. “Me.” I step forward, not even needing to think about it.
My father lets out a growl, and the Lord wearing the mask makes sweat bead across my head when he speaks. “It’s not that kind of choice. One of these women is innocent…the other is not.” He places the tip of the knife on the woman hanging on the right and runs it from her hip and along her ribs. She’s gasping, her body shaking as she fights the restraints. Her muffled sobs fill the basement, and her feet kick out as she tries to stand on her tiptoes, but they’ve got her strung up at just the right height that her pink painted toes barely touch. “You choose which one lives or dies.”
I look at my father.
“Make a decision, Haidyn.” His voice is as cold as the room, as if he knows I’m questioning him. His eyes watch the one on the left. She’s smaller, sickly looking. Shorter in height and she’s sobbing in her gag and hood by the way her body trembles uncontrollably.
They’re both covered in bruises and dirt. It makes me wonder what happened to them before they were dragged down here in the basement.
“I don’t understand…”
“You don’t need to understand.” My father snaps at me. “You choose which one dies and which one lives.”
I run a hand through my hair aggressively. I figured they’d bury me alive…stick me in a pit full of snakes. Not this. It doesn’t make sense.
“You have one minute,” the Lord behind the mask states, and he turns to flip an hourglass and my heart races as I watch the sand start to fall through the center. “If you don’t make a decision by the time the timer is done, they both will die.”
The girls start screaming into their hoods and gags, and I take a step back. My eyes go back and forth between them. The Lord taunts them both with the tip of his knife, slowly running it over their flushed skin, nicking them both in various places. Not deep enough to kill them but enough to make them bleed.
My eyes go to the hourglass, and I see it’s almost out. I look at my father, and he’s still glaring at the girl on the left. I say girl because she looks younger than the other one. Her skin is less touched by years of abuse. The other has tracks along her arms and legs.
I step forward and speak. “Kill the one on my right.”
The Lord doesn’t even take a second to think about it. He slams the knife into the woman’s chest before he yanks it out, and the blood pours down her body as it sags in the chains. He reaches up and allows the other one to fall to the concrete floor. She rolls onto her side, curling up in a ball, and her chained wrists go to her metal collar, trying to get it off, but it’s locked in place.
My father walks over to the woman on the floor and kicks her onto her back. His boot steps down on her sweat-covered and bloody chest. He looks her over and then to the Lord. “I don’t want to see her again.”
“Yes, sir,” the Lord says and drags her by the excess chain out of the room and down the hall while she kicks her legs out.
I question that I killed the wrong one. The dead girl who still hangs from the ceiling got off easy. I don’t know the fate of the other one. Will she be tortured? Did I sentence her to a life here as a prisoner at Carnage? Doesn’t matter. It’s too late now. I made a decision, and I told myself a long time ago that I won’t have any regrets.
He turns to face me. His eyes narrowed on mine. “You disappoint me, Haidyn.”
Good. I made the right decision. “Saying I chose the wrong one?” I picked the one on the right because, for some reason, my father despises the other one.
He steps into me and bows his chest. “You should have let them both die.”
The thought never crossed my mind. I was told to make a choice, and that’s exactly what I did. “Did I fail?” I ask, arching a brow. Ready to get the fuck out of here.
“Women are no use to you unless you’re fucking them,” he growls. “They are for your pleasure and reproduction. When are you going to figure that out?”