I could see the sadness on Kisa’s face. She never wanted me to kill again. But it was who I was. I just wasn’t sure if she’d ever be okay with this side of me.
“I know you will,” she said quietly.
I closed my eyes and exhaled in relief. As they opened again, I whispered, “I love you, solnyshko.”
“I have you, Luka. Whatever you need, I have you … always,” Kisa said in return, then kissed me on my lips.
Chapter Four
221
I rocked in the corner, clawing at my skin. The pain hadn’t gone. The poison never cooled. Every minute, I spent fighting the pain, the rage.
I couldn’t sleep. The venom inside my veins kept me awake. I couldn’t remember anything of my life. Nothing but the face and voice of my master.
Lifting my head, I heard Master laughing across the room. He was sitting next to a strange man. He looked familiar.
Had I seen him before?
I couldn’t remember. The poison took all my memories away.
Lifting my hands, my muscles ached as they moved under the heavy chains wrapped around my wrist and ankles. My eyes stung, my head ticked as the pain swamped my mind.
Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I tried to breathe, just as a voice made my head snap up.
My eyes met with Master’s and I began to pant. He’d want me to kill. I’d get to kill … stop the fire in my veins.
“221, davdget.” He ordered me to stand and my feet pressed flat to the ground. I forced my body to straighten and bowed my head.
Laughter rang out around the room.
“221, stand before me,” Master demanded.
Turning obediently in the direction of where he sat, I walked forward, ignoring the inner spikes of the cuffs around my ankles and wrists ripping into my skin.
Master was sitting in the room surrounded by many men. There was a ring in the middle. I was standing in the center of the ring, when Master walked beside me.
I gritted my teeth as he put an arm around my shoulder. “You’ve all been gathered here tonight to witness the effect of the drug you’re interested in purchasing.” A hand clapped over my chest and I growled as the hit sliced pain down to my stomach. My hands clenched together as I fought back the scream ripping up my throat. My skin was too itchy to touch. Too on fire to touch!
“This is 221, my prototype for the Type A drug. He answers to my every command. The drug offers one hundred percent obedience from subjects to their masters. It also provides muscle-building components, in addition to a chemical that erases the memories of who they once were. High levels of testosterone and other hormones create a conditioned response to kill, a need so strong in the subjects, it can drive them insane if their urges are not met.” Master laughed. “Perfect weapons against any rivals.”
Master stepped away, and I felt a guard move toward me. Reaching out, he unlocked the shackles round my wrists and ankles. As the chains fell to the floor, the need to kill began to take hold. When Master removed my chains, it was always time to kill.
Black metal hit my open palms and I immediately gripped whatever was in my hands. I looked down. The guard gave me two black sais. I rolled the metal in my grip. It felt familiar. My head tilted to the side as I studied the sharp blades. I knew how to use these weapons. The guard stepped back out of the ring.
I breathed, the room silent as I waited for Master to speak. I could smell sweat and hear the murmur of low voices. My muscles tensed as a surge of heat spread through my body.
“A demonstration!” Master shouted, and the voices around the room grew louder.
“221, mzad.” Master commanded me to ready myself, and my legs parted, my feet heavy on the concrete ground. My head snapped up.
A door opened behind me. In my peripheral vision, I saw the men in the room all sit forward, visibly excited.
My eyes stared straight forward, when Master commanded, “221, t’avis mkhriv.”
I turned, obeying the command, and a man stood before me holding a long chain with razors on its links. Rage built in my chest. Klavs, klavs, klavs—kill, kill, kill—I thought to myself. I gripped my sais tighter as the man smiled at me.
Klavs! KLAVS! I screamed inside my head.
The man began spinning his chain to the side, the heavy links smacking off the hard ground. The man before me was big. But not bigger than me. He couldn’t beat me. I would win. I always won.
“221, sikvidili.” Master ordered me to prepare to bring death. So I readied to bring nothing but death and pain.
“Now, gentlemen. As most are here from, or associated with, the Arziani gulags, and I set up this ring as an example of how the drugs work, 221 will not stop until I command him to, plowing through anyone put in his way.”