Hearts on Fire

Bloody Hands

                                                            *Hannah's Point of View*

                            I stared at the ground watching the water go down the drain in circles. I had been in there an hour but I could still feel their blood all over my hands. It never got easier, but Reagan kept food in my stomach and if I listened, he wouldn't hurt me. So it was easier and more simple. I refused him once and I have scars the whole length of my back from it as a reminder. 

                            Today's events are what I liked to call murder with friends. Ten girls every women for her self. Usually the strongest take out the weaker half in about five minutes and today was no exception to that. The rest of the time lasted for about twenty minutes give or take. The picture of the fierce warrior under my boot still was in the forefront of my mind. She winced in pain as I stabbed her through the heart. Throwing my short sword to the ground I stood tall throwing my blood cover hands to the sky and screamed a cry out into the sky. The people chanted louder and louder until the sound was deafening. They called my "name". It was my name to them at least a stage name basically. "Aries", the goddess of war is who I became when I stepped out into the Colosseum. I looked the part with long curly hair so blonde it was almost white, fair skin, and electric blue eyes.  So when I became unbeatable and Reagan realized he had a star on his hands at the age of fifteen he named me Aries.

                            At this point I don't know who I am, Hannah, Aries, or someone else lost in this violent life. Taking a few deep breaths I dragged myself out of the shower. Drying off and looking in the mirror there was a nasty cut on my shoulder and a huge black bruise on the right side of my ribs. Rapping myself up in the tower I walked out of the small adjoined bathroom to the small dingy room stiffening when I saw Monroe laying out on the bed in nothing but loose basket ball shorts. "Jesus," I murmured.

                            "Lovely." he said standing up when he heard me enter the room. He approached me in three giant steps and rapped me in a crushing bear hug. 

                            "Can't....BreAtHe." I said fake gasping for air. He giggled and grabbed my face in his hands staring me in the eyes with his own forest green ones. "Seriously though what are you doing in here Reagan will kill both of us."

                            He paused for a moment with a grin that looked almost weary and said, "Reagan sent me..... the goddess of war Aries has apparently attracted some high class attention..."  

                            "What do you mean?" I questioned confused. Turning from him I reached in my bag grabbing out my brush to start working on the long tangled locks. He sat on the bed sighing and I sat beside him.

                               " The prince was here and.... he was very impressed."

                                   My mouth was gaping open, "AND."

                                "You and I have been invited to the place to fight for "ultimate honor and glory" apparently the king him self if a fan of yours." He said slowly and carefully. 

                                   "I can't I mean our king-" He cut me off quickly and sharply.

                                   "Not our King, the king of the second continent." he said now talking only at a whisper. There where seven continents besides Antarctica which was basically a free zone where no one ruled but no one went there anyway. What used to be the upper of the U.S and Canada was the first continent that was where we lived now. From Yemen to Greenland was the second continent and that was ruled by the most feared and ruthless king of all. All I knew about him is he was Italian, he had many children, and from seeing him on the TV once when Reagan let me watch it I knew he was no one to mess with. The capital of the second continent was of course Rome. They took their sports very very seriously and even went as far as rebuilding the original Colosseum. My breath started to quicken as I realized what he meant. 

                            "The-The-The f*****g BATTAGLIA REALE!," Bolting off the bed almost losing my towel I started pacing, " WHAT ARE YOU KIDDING ME!" The Battle Royal or the Battaglia Reale in Italian was a huge event held once a year in Italy at the Colosseum. It was invite only and one man and one woman had the chance to win their freedom granted by the King himself if you won that is. The event was about a week long and many trails and tribulations where thrown at each gladiator. If you didn't win you didn't make it out alive. 

                            I must have looked crazy with the hair brush stuck in my thick hair swinging around with wild eyes. Monroe had been my best friend and instant protector ever since we came to live with Reagan. The problem was however that seeing us together infuriated him and he refused to let that happen because it made us both "weak". 

                            Monroe stood up cupping my face forcing my body to a stand still. He smiled and kissed me on the forehead and rapped me into a tight bear hug. "When?" I mumbled into his chest. 

                            "We get on a flight late tonight and will be there for lunch with the king himself tomorrow." 

                            "Why...." I questioned my whole body stiffened.

                            "Well, like I said you have caused a real stir among the royals."

                            "Wait...." I said slowly as reality was starting to kick in, "how are we going to drive all the way back to the house," I refused to call that place my home because it wasn't, "its like a six hour drive and get packed and the drive another hour to the air port all before eleven tonight? It's already seven and its what a ten hour flight.?" Monroe looked down at the ground his brows furrowing. He ran his hands through his fluffy brown hair and let out a groan.

                            "You know how Jenna was supposed to drive me and the boys today." Jenna was Reagan's sister. She was about ten years younger than him and hated what he did, but she kept her mouth shut and did what he asked so he wouldn't accuse her of a traitor to the king. She hardly ever left her room and never said a word.

                            "Yes, why?" His face tensed even more.

                            "Because Marcus drove us, and apparently the reason why was because Reagan new we where going to have to leave from here so between him and his devil spawn they brought our stuff. Of course he wouldn't have told us when he actually found out because it would have been "distracting"." Murmured Monroe using air quotes when he said the word distracting with so much anger.

                            The only word of that I heard was Marcus. Marcus was Reagan's son, unfortunately he had the hots for me, he was creepy, but fortunately he hardly came around anymore since he moved out to start his own gladiator business. It hadn't gone well however, so I assumed that is why he came running back to his dad. "I hate him so much." I declared through gritted teeth. 

                            "Your not the only one kid." Monroe laughed. "Get dressed doll and try and sleep we leave here at ten sharp." He rapped me up in a tight hug one hand playing with my hair then removing the still attached hair brush, and the other trailing down my back landing on my hip. Monroe had always been like a brother to me but in moments like this I just wanted to kiss him and let him hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I new that was a mistake Monroe was to good for me, to kind, so instead I settled for burring my head in his chest. 

                                                             *Many hours Later on a plane Hannah's Pov*

                            It was so dark even though it had to be light outside by now. Looking up at the clock in the wall by the doorway, it read 10:13. We have to be close. The chains felt like they where cutting deeper into my skin by the second. The front half of the plane was designated for Reagan and his son and the back half was designated for Monroe and myself who where chained into our seats tightly. This was normal for when we had to travel places. I wouldn't dare run though because Monroe would be hurt on my behalf and once he reported us gone it would be over, there was no escape. So I shifted trying to get more comfortable but that was impossible. All the shades where pulled down so for about ten straight hours Monroe and I sat in complete silence in the dark. My bladder was ready to exploded and I could feel a drop of blood drip down my finger and fall onto the floor. My feet where chained to the seat in front of me and they too where crying to be released. The worst part of being in this moment was having no escape from my thoughts. Squeezing my eyes shut I let out a yawn. I was exhausted but sleep would not take me.  

                            Suddenly the movement of the plane changed. Are we landing? Quickly Reagan burst through the door. "We have arrived," he said with a nefarious grin. He started pulling open shades blinding me. My eyes stung and burned as the world started coming back into focus. He walked over to Monroe first keeping his wrists chained and then over to me doing the same. Marcus blocked the entrance and I could feel his disgusting eyes on me but I ignored it. My legs felt wobbly as I descended from the plane. I was once again blinded by an even brighter light. Looking around I couldn't believe my eyes. In front of me was a castle and all around where armed guards ready to shoot me down if I made a wrong move. It felt strange to me being seen by people other than the guys and Reagan with out my mask on. I wonder if they know who I am. I suppose they did because three guards poked me with their guns and said march, three more did the same to Monroe. Looking ahead all I could see was Reagan carelessly walking and talking to a tall man. At this point I had no idea where I was going or what was happening.