Demons of Abyss - Retribution

Chapter 16

I know he's staring at me. I can feel it and, even though I don't want to, it makes me nervous. He is unconscionable. He is what I hate.

For the past few minutes as we drive through Denver now, I've been staring out the window, watching the world outside. A world, I will never get to see again. After a while, the cars, people and houses will diminish.

"Are you going to tell me your name?"

His deep voice cuts through the silence. I'm surprised he's bringing it up now. He should know, that I won't tell. Levi has already tried to squeeze my name out of me, but I've blocked it every time. That's why he called me Kali. I asked him twice why he called me that, but he always answered that I had to figure it out for myself. Now I turn my gaze to him. His eyes are looking at me curiously. Actually, I don't feel like talking, but the curiosity, what's behind those cool dark eyes, is too great. Even though my mind says that a Demon can only be evil, something else inside me wants to know who this West really is. What are his intentions? I lift my chin and look at him challengingly before continuing. "It wouldn't change anything if you knew my name."

He shakes his head barely noticeably before turning away and glancing out the window. He takes a deep breath and then turns around with an expression in his eyes, that I know all too well myself. It's an expression of sadness. Something that brings back memories that you don't want to see again. This expression shows, for the first time, that he does have feelings. He clears his throat and that emotion disappears from his face as quickly as it appeared.

"You're right, it wouldn't change the fact, that I can do whatever I want with you." One corner of his mouth twitches menacingly as he leans toward me. Now only a few inches separate us. One turn and I would land on his lap. But I remain steadfast. I will not give him the satisfaction of intimidating me.

"I don't think either of us will tell the other our real names."

He smirks and moves even closer, which regrettably does make me nervous. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. Feel his breath brushing my lips. He looks at me and I know what he's doing. He's doing what Bear always told me to do. Look at someone, and you see their true character, you see if they're lying. So I try to meet his gaze. If I turn away, he'd know he's intimidating me. It's almost a whisper, as he moves his mouth even closer to my ear. "Tristan. My name is Tristan." His breath tickles over the skin on my neck. He says it with an intensity in his eyes that my mind can't help but believe him. At first, I'm surprised, but in the next moment I sense the discomfort of what he sees in my eyes, because one corner of his mouth twitches.

"I know you won't tell me your name."

He grins cockily and slides off me. I take a deep breath and only now I realize I've been holding my breath. I'm not usually so easily intimidated, am I? What concerns me even more intensely, however, is that with this action he has proven to me, that he has something in common with Bear. A person, I hold in high regard. This in turn makes me doubt myself whether there is more behind West's, Tristan's facade than a cruel biker after all.

The rest of the ride is silent. West has turned away and I continue to stare out the window. The prospect, whose name I don't know yet, steers the car into an area that looks familiar. We have arrived at the industrial area and I suspect where they are taking me. Instead of fear, joy creeps into my thoughts. Maybe I will find Kilian? He must still be here. Kilian is a fighter. He doesn't give up.

My suspicions are confirmed, as we drive onto the grounds and I recognize the huge water tank. We head for the tin shed, and I'm confused when we stop in front of it, but neither of us gets out of the car. Suddenly, a spotlight comes on, aimed directly at the van. I blink and the prospect behind the wheel grabs a flashlight and quickly turns it on and off a few times. I have to remember the sequence, it might still be useful to me. A gate then opens in front of us, and we slowly roll into the darkness. Immediately, my body is on alert. I am tense. My senses are on the attack.

The gate closes behind us. After that, the lights come on. Three men are standing around the car. They are all wearing the club's sign. A skull with intertwined horns. How I hate those patches. They have their guns ready, but when West gets out, they nod respectfully at him and relax. I remain seated in the back seat until West drags me across the seats by my upper arm, and I more or less stumble out of the car. If West's grip on my arm wasn't so tight, I would have fallen. I spark angrily at him before eyeing the inside of the hall. It looks smaller than is visible from outside, and there are at least a dozen bikes standing around. But I only see the three members of the club. They're staring at me, as if they're all too eager to stick a knife in my gut. West, however, immediately draws their attention.

"We have to get into the Cage. The others are waiting for us."

One of the three turns and heads for a door, the only door here, I realize. West pushes me in front of him and we follow the guy. His grip on my upper arm suddenly loosens, and I consider fighting back, but I decide against it. How should I suppose to find Kilian then? So I follow the man, who types something into a number panel besides the door. Immediately, it opens. Behind it is a staircase leading down. On the sides of the walls are latticed emergency lamps. On the ceiling is a neon tube that emits a whirring sound. My instinct is to fight back. I should fight now and try to escape. But my mind advises me against it. I wouldn't be able to fight everyone with my injuries, and I want to help Kilian. So I have to go down there. The guy who opened the door for us, follows us until West turns to him with a jerk.

"You think I can't handle a chick?"

West is intimidating, and the guy steps back fearfully. I get his point; West has a scary aura. I guess, that's why he's the runner-up, filling in for Charly in his absence. Charly, that name makes me sick, and I remember how he made sure I had to watch my parents die. I swallow. Only, when the door slams shut behind us with a bang do I manage to suppress the memories away. West pushes me down the first step so that I almost fall forward. I take one step at a time, looking around. A bare room awaits us at the bottom of the stairs. The walls, the steps, and the floor are concrete. It is so quiet here. Almost eerie. When we reach the end of the stairs, I discover a large door without a handle in front of us. On the left side is a number panel. I want to go towards it, because I'm tired of West pushing me, but West gives an annoyed snort. Immediately afterward, he turns me toward him by my upper arm, so that I am standing close to him. So close, that my chest almost touches his upper body. The expression in his eyes makes me hold my breath. There is so much pain in them. Like I'm looking into my own eyes, as I let the memory surface. Something changes in that second. His thumb gently strokes the skin on my upper arm, in the place where he still holds me. More gently, though. He comes even closer. His warm breath brushes my cheek and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Tell me the reason, why you hate the Demons so much, and I'll make sure you get out alive."

He takes a step back and looks at me challengingly.

"Is he still alive?"

I'm referring to Kilian, and he knows it because he nods. I shouldn't believe him, but his eyes, something about them makes me think he's telling the truth. He's tricked my mind. It has to be, because he's still a Demon. A monster. And yet my lips open.

"Revenge - for taking everything from me."

My voice trembles because the rage that suddenly rises inside me almost tears me apart. But all he does, is nod. Is he showing compassion? I quickly push that thought aside. He can't show compassion. He's one of those people who took everything from me. And yet, he strokes my skin again with his thumb. Then he clears his throat. His grip tightens again, but not as tight as before. Something is different now. He's making me curious, even though it shouldn't be that way and I want so badly to resist.

"You have to hang on."

I want to ask why, but suddenly the door opens with a clack. West just manages to turn away from me and push me roughly toward the door. Suddenly everything is gone. Everything I thought I saw in his eyes is gone. It's like it was never there. A guy appears in the doorway. I recognize him. He looks almost as shitty as I do, and yet he smiles at me when he sees me.

One of his dark blue eyes is just at the same stage as mine. A greenish shadow stretches across his skin. He limps a little and there is a bandage around his hand.

"West and the battle-grenade."

"Ryan."

West brings the name dryly from his lips and yet the two of them seem to me, like allies. Ryan is still smiling and looking at me kindly, which I absolutely do not understand. Then he walks up towards me and taps my shoulder with his healthy hand.

"You fought well."

"Ryan, she killed two of our men."

There's a threat in West's voice, but it doesn't seem to impress Ryan much, because he looks at West and takes a step toward him. Then he whispers, so that only me and West can hear.

"They were cowardly assholes. The club didn't need them, and you know it."

For a second I think Ryan has gone too far and West is going to punish him for that, but then West barely noticeably shakes his head.

"The others are waiting. We have to get to the Cage."

Ryan nods, and the tension is gone. It confuses me, that Ryan thinks it's okay that I killed two of their members. And also, that he himself feels the same way about them, as I do - somehow doesn't fit my notion of a Demon. But before I can think about it any further, Ryan turns away and opens the door with a code. Unfortunately, I can't make out the numbers because he shields the panel with his back. West maneuvers me toward the door. His grip is gentler, he strokes my skin again with his thumb, and as he does, I feel something I can't describe. He looks into my eyes and for a second time stops. Damn, what is he doing? What am I doing? It's like his eyes are whispering a silent apology. A silent "I'm sorry."

The door opens with a clack and suddenly the cold is back. His grip tightens. His posture dangerous. He pushes me through the door and then further down a hallway. The closer we get to the door at the end of the hallway, the more clearly voices are heard. Bawling. Screams. Whistling. When Ryan opens the door, the whole thing becomes deafening. There are a lot of people in the sprawling concrete building. While I'm sure we're underground, this room seems too big to be just a basement. It looks like a small arena. There are steps on two sides with people sitting on them with their beers, staring at the cage in the middle. They don't seem to be waiting for us, though, like West said. They are watching spellbound a fight in this fenced-in quadrangle, which is elevated on a concrete platform, so all can see what is happening there. Lamps hang from the walls at regular intervals. Above them are spotlights aimed at the Cage. Inside are two lanky guys who look like they are fighting for the first time in their lives. One has virtually no cover, while the other just has cover and doesn't even throw a punch. Inwardly, I shake my head, but then I have to remember, that if my life had been normal, I wouldn't be able to fight either. If my parents hadn't been slaughtered by those assholes. People are cheering and some of them are laughing their heads off. No one notices us until West brings me closer to the cage, and the first ones spot us. Everyone who notices West, immediately closes their lips. They are intimidated by him. It's like the first time we met, he strides through the crowd, which reverently gives him space. At some point, everything goes quiet. Almost too quiet. The two in the Cage, however, take a few seconds longer. But when they discover West, horror flashes in their eyes. They quickly make a run for it and disappear into the crowd. West watches them with wary eyes before he turns his gaze to the crowd and leads me up some stairs into the cage. Once there, he gives me a shove so brutal that I fall to my knees. Suddenly the crowd roars again. I can make out words like "w***e" "b***h" "backstabbing cunt" "she must die". There is certainly more being shouted, but fortunately the large room swallows all the rest of the voices and mixes them into an indistinct jumble. I avoid looking at the people. I keep my gaze lowered. But my other senses are heightened. West walks slowly up and down beside me. Then he raises his hand and suddenly everything is silent.

"Demons of Abyss, I know you want her dead. She didn't deserve it any other way. She had two longtime members of the club on her conscience. Booze and Bull were...loyal brothers..." The names of the two assholes are shouted, and a roar goes through the crowd. "Their deaths must not go unpunished." Again he earns loud cheers. "But what good would it do us to just kill her?" He pauses briefly before continuing confidently.

"That would be far too quick, too easy for her. She has to suffer. That's why we'll let her slowly perish and make a profit." This asshole is selling me to punters. I knew I wouldn't come out of this in one piece, but this is hard for me to take, too. I wanted to look for Kilian. That's why and for my revenge I'm here. And now he wants to sell me? The people shout and clap. Some give another whistle. West seems to want to savor the people's enthusiasm, because he waits patiently until everyone calms down again.

"She will fight in the upcoming fights." He pauses and there is dead silence. Until a guy with a full gray beard stands up and points his finger at me.

"She's a chick!" There's displeasure in his voice. He looks at me dismissively. I shift my gaze to West, who stands next to me with his shoulders slumped, staring into the crowd with a smile. He eyes the guy and takes a few steps towards him.

"She is. And yet she managed to kill two of our men and defeat Ryan in combat. She's going to die, or make us a pile of dough in the fights."

The guy nods tentatively. However, someone else now speaks up. A lanky man in his thirties stands up with his beer in hand.

"If we make her a w***e, she'll bring money too."

His words earn approving shouts. West grins again and is about to reply when someone beats him to it. Glancing around, I spot a head of black hair, cut into a Mohawk. Ryan. He has a smile on his damaged face.

"Are you afraid of p*****s? Are you afraid she might win?"

Now restrained laughter goes through the round, before the arid one retorts something.

"That fear should probably be you, have been defeated by her."

The drought laughs spitefully and some join in. But Ryan laughs as well. He seems so poised. So confident, that I wonder why he spoke up, when it puts himself in a bad light. I beat him, and someone else wouldn't take that so lightly.

"Well, how about you face her then? She's ONLY a chick, right?"

Now the drought and also the others get quiet and fall silent. Ryan, on the other hand, sits down calmly on one of the steps and brings an "I thought so" over his lips. Then West takes the floor again. His voice bristles with conviction.

"She's going to fight. She'll either make us coal or die miserably. Either way, she'll pay for the attack. And if she does survive, we can sell what's left of her to the johns."

I gulp at his words and my thoughts crowd out the loud roar. They all shout West's name and raise their right fists in the air. He's convinced them. Unfortunately, me too. I'm going to die here. I was counting on dying. But, now that it feels so real, my thoughts spin a web of uncertainty and fear. Something that won't exactly make the rest of my life easy. I close my eyes and hang my head until I'm grabbed roughly by my upper arm again. I don't look up. I only hear the abuse as I am led to another door. I even think, someone spat at me, but it doesn't matter. I am not me right now. A feeling I don't know, something I don't want to let happen, and yet it's controlling me right now.

A musty smell penetrates my nose. I am still staring at a gray concrete floor, on which my shoes leave a dull sound. My shoulders ache as the handcuffs slowly but surely take effect. Suddenly I feel like I'm being watched, and I hear voices on the walls of the hallway. So I look up and hold my breath. There are doors made of bars to my right and left, lining the long corridor. It's like being in a prison. But what's worse, behind the bars, men stare at me with nothing in their eyes but emptiness. Like the lions in the zoos. Broken and robbed of their freedom. I quickly realize I will end up the same way. Especially when Ryan, who has been accompanying us, opens one of the doors and stops beside it. West holds my upper arm and I smell his scent, sandalwood, despite the stench. As I look at Ryan, I see regret on his features. Why is he looking at me like that? In the cell, a tiny room, West lets go of me. I look around, recognizing only a cot with a filthy mattress on it and a wall separating the room. The walls are drab concrete, just like everything else here. A lamp above the bed, stuck behind a wire frame, gives off a sparse light. Then I stare into West's face. He looks around and suddenly there is that look of pain in his eyes again. As if bad memories are catching up with him at this sight. After a few seconds, he turns his attention back to me.

"In a week the first battles will begin, prepare for that. They'll let you train for a few hours a day, but the rest of the time you'll be locked up in here."

He sounds like he actually feels bad for bringing me here, but I'm not buying his crap anymore. I take a step toward him, looking up at him angrily.

"What's your problem?" I take another step toward him. "Why don't you just kill me?" I know I'm provoking him, I know he could kill me on the spot and I wouldn't stand a chance. But he makes me so angry. His gestures, his words, everything is so contradictory about him. I'm still waiting for an answer from West, but he just looks at me from above. In his eyes there is suddenly this coldness again. Then he takes a step toward me. His chest almost touches the tip of my nose, but I don't back away. I also try to ignore that there is something soothing about his scent. That his body radiates something that makes my body react. I can't let that happen. But when he leans toward me, bringing his lips to my ear, I can't stop the hairs on the back of my neck from standing up.

"Because, I still need you."

With his words and that campy tone in his voice, he manages to make me so perplexed that I can't move. It's only when he grabs my upper arm and jerks me around that I regain my composure. Damn. What was that all about? I'm not supposed to do that. Not with a demon. He's just f*****g with me. Making me pay for what I did to the club. His hands go to my wrists and he unlocks the cuffs. He does it roughly, as if to show me, that I don't stand a chance against him. But when he is done, I feel a soft touch of his fingers on my forearm. He is definitely playing with me. He wants to make me feel insecure. But my mind is stronger. So I take a step forward and turn around, snorting. There is amusement on his features, which annoys me even more. I will not let him make me weak with his looks and words. I will not let him stop me from hating them all. Especially not from him. I will kill him. So I stare at him defiantly, waiting for him to finally leave. But for a few seconds he remains standing, tilts his head and examines me with a grin from top to bottom. Again my body reacts and I become involuntarily nervous. If he continues like this, I'm about to go for his throat, because it annoys me, that he has such an effect on me. Then, finally, he lets out a sigh before turning away and disappearing through the door. Ryan closes the door with a click and turns the key in the lock. A few seconds later, their footsteps fall silent, and I'm alone. Locked in this tiny room. So this is where I might spend the rest of my life? I look around and ignore the stains on the mattress. I settle down on it. I lean my head against the wall and angle my feet. Then I close my eyes and for once, I think of the good times with Mom and Dad. A day at the lake. Dad buried me in the sand, so that only my head was visible. Mom was laughing so hard, she was in tears. The sun warmed my face. I remember a picture, I will never forget, Papa and Mama standing in front of me in the sand taking a picture. They look at me like I am everything to them. Just like they were everything to me.