PENSIONNAT - VERSION ENGLISH - BOOK FINISH

° 5 °

We were ready. Mr. Strange blew his whistle as he fired the starting shot. But no one moved. We just assessed the other one for a weak spot.
He was faster than I was.

He found one.

He bent his knees, arched his back slightly and jumped. He could have been mistaken for an eagle. Except that a black aura enveloped him like the devil would surround his prey. I almost backed away. But instead I dodged his blow. His stick hit the ground like a bullet hits a body. I looked at the damage with amazement. The impact had produced a hole of about one centimeter. His surroundings were cracked.

He was fighting for real. He would not give me a chance.

He looked at me coldly and jumped back at me with more force. I blocked his second blow. Not having the strength to parry it for long, I jumped back as quickly as I could. I stumbled and fell on my ass. With an air of nothingness, he got back in place. He looked at me as coldly as the first time. With his back stiff, his shoulders relaxed and me on the ground, he smiled. A smile full of cruelty, the smile of a madman. Derne had disappeared. Or maybe I didn't want to see (or believe) that Derne was ready to kill me.

I stood up, annoyed, but not shocked by his attitude. The arena was testing its competitors. According to Strange, it was capable of swallowing its champions. And then... maybe he finally hated me.

I could hear the white specters cheering. The black specters were doing the same with Derne.

Having a good command of defensive techniques, I decided to attack. We were facing each other again. Derne made a few moves with his staff and I did the same. I couldn't find any weak points in his eyes, but I knew that his left hand would be lighter than his right. His speed was due to this support.

So, I took the right. His heavier foot would give me a chance to hit him, maybe. I took support of my two feet and ran the stick parallel to my body. I turned slightly to the right at the last minute. Derne always had a keen eye. He saw my technique and decided not to wait. He attacked. I was in his reach, a golden opportunity to hit me. With a quick movement, he swung his stick at me. Surprised, my body, which was still bifurcating, began to avoid his blow by turning on itself.

This defense, which I was doing for the first time, prevented me from being pierced in the head, but also from continuing my attack. I hit him in the right knee. His leg buckled under the impact and fell to the ground like a falling rock.

I had mastered the strength of my attack. I didn't want to hurt him, just hurt him. I got back upright and looked at him. I could have smiled, but I found no pleasure in fighting him. I felt he was absent, possessed. An evil and dangerous thing.
I was afraid for him.

He stayed in that position for a while. I just looked at him.

We were in the center of the arena. A cold, hard platform that brought out our primal instinct: survival. The other students were outside the combat zone. Yet their screams could easily reach us. I looked quickly behind me, hoping to see Max and Grayce, but a raucous laugh paralyzed me. It came from Derne.

-You...fight...like...your mother...she too...held back... Do you know why? ... Because she...was always afraid...of blood...

It was the same voice that appeared to me during the ceremony. A hoarse and demonic voice, which gave me goosebumps to wake the dead! Derne's eyes were gone. They were replaced by black eyes with no bottom.

- But who are you?! I sighed, my voice trembling.

Now I was afraid for myself too!
How could a voice this weak still possess someone?

No one could hear us. They could only see our movements.... And yet, I so wish Grayce and Max had come to my rescue!

- We have... A fight... to fight...

He stood up quickly and stood in front of me. His movements contrasted with his voice. He put his feet together, his body straight, and held out his left hand. The hand that held the staff. This was not Derne's style at all. With the staff horizontal, he smiled.

- Let's go.

With his dark eyes he charged at me and hit me in the legs. I fell with the shock, but got up quickly, because he was already producing his second attack. I made a feeble attempt at swinging my stick at his back...a failed attempt. He was much faster than me! He simply avoided my blow and hit me hard on my back. The stick propelled me away where the landing made me spit a ball of blood.

*****

The blue blood.

We ghosts have it.

Yet the blood I saw was red. The red we use for blood, that is.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"
A trite question Derne asked me. There followed a dance where for the first time I had enjoyed it. But today I was fighting against him, his body envelope that wanted to kill me.

*****

- How can you use people like that?... Why don't you come and kill me in person! Leave Derne out of this!

I stood up with difficulty, my breath had been taken away and I knew that it would take me, well, five minutes before I was well again. But I couldn't wait.
Because, in this fight, it wasn't just me in danger...Derne was too.