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

Chapter 31

"Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine"

STORM WAS SO OVER THE FEAR SIMULATIONS. She was tired of being paralyzed by fear every day, and she was definitely tired of reliving her worst trauma. But now, at least it was almost over. Though in the moment, it certainly didn't feel like it.

The young girl was unsure exactly where her fear of tight spaces came from, but whatever it was she was violently cursing it in her head. The metal walls closed in on Storm no matter how hard she tried to push them away. In the back of her mind, Storm knew that it wasn't real, that her imminent death wasn't actually happening. But she couldn't act like that. All she could do was try to calm herself.

There was a song Drake once sang to his sister. Storm had long forgotten the name of it, and the lyrics. The addicting tune was the only thing she remembered. Simply because she fell asleep to that sound every time nightmares plagued her childish brain, which was everyday.

So Storm did the only thing she could think of; she began to hum to herself. Storm imagined herself in her brother's arms, engulfed under the soft sheets of their shared bed. She imagined his arms around hers, his sweet voice ringing in her ear. For a moment, Strom actually believed the scenario her brain had created. It wasn't until the peeping sun registered in her tightly shut eyes did she remember that Drake was dead.

Storm picked herself off the ground, knowing what was coming next. She glanced at the singular window in her old basement. Blood freely dripped down the walls. Terror flooded her cold veins once she heard the bone-chilling footsteps of her mother's heels.

She knew that she couldn't get away with just ignoring the fear; this time she had to fight.

"Tempest, come here honey. I just want to help you."

Oh how Storm hated those words with everything in her body. Nothing Jeanine ever did was to benefit her daughter, it was only to please her sick desires.

Storm embraced the fear she was feeling, not even bothering to calm her shaking limbs. She clenched her fists at her side in an attempt to turn the fear into something much more dangerous: anger.

Before Jeanine's clone had any time to attack her, Storm launched herself at the woman. This may be the only time she ever gets to unleash her rage on the woman, and even if it was fake Storm would take any chance she got.

The brunette delivered punch after punch. She did not stop once. She kept going, and going, and going until she saw the woman's skull concaving. Only when Storm saw the light leave her mother's cold eyes did she release her hold on the woman. She wanted to continue her vicious assault (she could have kept going for hours), but the scene changed almost instantaneously.

Jeanine's dead body disappeared, a new one appearing at the initiate's side. The woman tightly wrapped its slender fingers onto Storm's shoulder. Her mother latched onto her as if she was a puppeteer taking control of its star puppet. The gun was heavy in her hand, her body barely had enough strength to hold it up. Storm never had any problems with weapons. But in this simulation, the familiar cold metal sent a terrifying chill down her spine.

In front of her sat Ember, tied up with a helpless look in her eyes. This was the first time she had seen her in weeks and she couldn't help but want to race forward and hug her. But Jeanine locked the girl in place, practically daring the girl to defy her.

Now Storm knew what she should do, what she had to do in order to convince the dauntless leaders. But if her mind had sensed the conflict, the scene before her began to change for the worse.