The Other Side of the War (Tobias Eaton X OC)

Chapter 10

THERE WAS A MONSTER INSIDE OF STORM. One that hid in the shadows and waited for the perfect time to pounce. It whispered in her ear, clawed at her thoughts, ripped apart her heart. Her soul was in a never-ending cycle of pain because of the monster. Her mind was constantly in battle, fighting to keep the monster at bay. Sometimes she succeeded, and others she did not.

For the first time in a while, Storm had let the monster consume her. It ran through her body like a virus, shredding up any form of good and igniting a fire in every muscle. Now that the monster was free there was no telling what she would do now. It had been deprived of blood for so long it was searching for any small drop it could find.

This wasn't her first murder. (Or attempted murder rather). Storm's conscious was stained red with the souls she had taken from this earth. She was a killer, there was no denying that, but she liked to believe that she had some form of morals. But as she firmly held a pillow over Peter's face, no sense of remorse could be found.

She was not planning on killing him, at least not yet. He and his posse deserved a fate worse than that. This was beautiful, sweet revenge.

Just before she felt his large body go limp, Storm released the pillow depriving him of oxygen.

It was too dark for Peter to see his attacker and he knew there was no escape.

"Get the hell off-" His pleading words were silenced by the clicking noise of a bullet falling into place. The pillow now seemed like a better fate than this.

The cold barrel of a gun was placed directly in between his eyes. Peter's body froze in horror. His mind was too dizzy and the room was too dark for him to be able to identify his attacker.

"Yell and I place a bullet through your skull."

This was his meeting with death itself, his judgment day. His fragile life laid in the hands of an unknown entity.

Storm learned a long time ago that death was an everlasting force that stalked its victims at every corner. There was no escaping the grim reaper, she knew that was a fact. You either get caught by death or live long enough to become an angel of death yourself.

Storm was not afraid to die, but the shaking boy below her definitely was. She leaned forward, her cold lips touching his ear. "This will be your only warning Peter. You are only alive because I have allowed you to live. I can take that away at any time. Do you understand me?"

His normally strong voice turned frail. "Yes."

"And if you so much as step out of line," Storm's menacing voice felt like a million daggers stabbing him all at once. "I will not hesitate to end your pathetic life. You can count on that.'

In a moment, the danger was over and Peter could breathe. His attacker faded into the dark night as if they were merely a ghost. He could only hope that the encounter was all in his mind and that the monster who threatened his life's just a figment of his imagination.

But Peter would soon learn that monsters were real, and he was living with a killer.

***

"YOUR FINAL TEST of stage one will take place today," Eric surveyed the room of nervous initiates. "As you all can see, dauntless-born and transfers will no longer be divided."

The eery training room was filled with twice as many initiates than it usually was, which also doubled the tension. Dauntless-borns held their chins high as confidence radiated off of them. They were the kings in this room and the transfers their meekly subjects. Whatever this final test was, the odds were not in the transfers favor.