FALLEN WARRIORS

III: Let It Happen

03;
LET IT HAPPEN
30 Seconds to Mars―Hurricane

                Minho stands up as soon as Jorge has pronounced his punishment, and would've charged if Brenda hasn't stopped right up to him and places her blade under his chin. It draws a drop of blood, similar to when Ilithyia's longsword has cut into his flesh. The bright red in the daylight pouring through the busted doors. He can't even talk without risking serious bodily harm. He learned it the hard way.

"I'd gladly volunteer to do it," Ilithyia steps around Jorge so she can see Minho clearly, fishing out a Chinese dagger from its sheath on her waist, "it would be my honour."

Their eyes once again meet, their contradictory eyes clash. A bright opalescent violet meets opaque dark ones. Both sharing a mutual distaste for each other.

"Right," Jorge says calmly, dismissing Ilithyia good-naturally as he continues, "Brenda, Ilithyia and I will escort these moochers to the stash, let 'em eat up. Then we'll all meet on the Tower, let's say one hour now." He looks at his watch on his wrist. "Make that noon on the dot. We'll bring up lunch for the rest of you."

"Why just the scary lookin' girl, Brenda and you?" A voice asks, which Ilithyia recognises belongs to the oldest person in the group-Barkley, who's holding a nasty dagger in one hand and a hammer in the other. Ilithyia never really likes him. There's something she can't trust him that makes her want to behead the elder. Not to mention he addressed her as 'the scary lookin' girl'.

"What if they jump you? There's eleven of them to three of you." Barkley continues his sceptical comments. Ilithyia knows that he's suspicious of the situation.

Jorge squints at him with a scoffing look. "Thanks for the math lesson, Barkley. Next time I forget how many toes I have, I'll be sure and spend some counting time with you. For now, shut your flappin' lips and lead everybody to the Tower. I can't believe you're doubting what Ilithyia is capable of. If these punks try anything, Ilithyia will slash Mr Minho to tiny bits while Brenda and I beat the living hell out of the rest of 'em. They can barely stand, they're so weak. Now get!"

"Fine," the old, but muscular, man says after a long stare down with his leader. "But if they do jump on you and slit your throat, we'll get along just fine without ya."

"Thanks for the kind words, hermano." Jorge clasps his hand together in an acerbic manner, feigning an appreciation. "Now get, or we'll have double the fun on the Tower."

Barkley barks a laugh as if to salvage some dignity, then starts off down the same hallway Thomas and Jorge have disappeared earlier. He waves his arm in a 'follow me' gesture and soon every last Crank is shuffling after him, not forgetting to throw last glares towards the Subjects, leaving Jorge, Brenda and Ilithyia in the room.

Once the main group of Flare-infected people left the room, Jorge shares a look with Thomas; then subtly shook his head, as if the others might still be able to hear them.

Ilithyia retrieves her dagger back to its sheath as Brenda drops her knife away from Minho and steps back, standing next to Ilithyia, who now has her arms crossed as she stares pointedly at Minho. Absently wiping the small trace of blood there on her trousers she says, "I really would've killed you, ya know," her voice comes out scratchy, slipping her weapon in her pocket. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery."

"And I'd be glad to lend her my longsword to do so." Ilithyia adds, throwing a disgusted look at Minho as he wipes at his small wound with a thumb.

He scoffs, staring back at Ilithyia's unique eyes, that still eliciting curiosity from most of the teenage boys. "Of course you would, sweetheart. You're my biggest fan after all."