chapter 8 | decisions to make

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Week 1



The speech did nothing to quell the masses, only exacerbate the on-going tension. I truly feared the outcome of our current predicament. There weren't any ways of going about this, because I doubted the probability of someone being placed in a situation where they had been kidnapped from their homes and forced to survive.

Survive had many implications. It suggested that there would be a set of situations where our lives would be at stake and the outcome would be less favourable to us. Or the lack of rules would unleash a destructive freedom, the kind that enabled any sort of crime to be committed. Whether that'd be lawlessness, anarchy, murder, violence, those very words implied that neither the American government nor any authority had any jurisdiction on these grounds.

So what does that mean for us? Unimaginable, psychological impacts and the abandonment of human virtues and morality. I mean, wasn't that what differentiated us from ghouls? Ghouls acted on violence because it was in their nature to do so. As far as I was aware, they weren't capable of being able to live like humans. They were able to conceal their true nature, but if they stuck around humans long enough, it wouldn't be long until they succumb to their urges.

Wait.

Ghouls. Humans. Coexistence.

The grand hall we were in suddenly felt a whole lot smaller as the realisation dawned upon me. The population of ghouls in NYC was second to Tokyo. Survive? Did that mean among humans, they had also planted ghouls as well? No. I immediately brushed that thought aside, if I entertained it for any longer, my composure would soon crumble. But if I didn't, I'd be ignorant to the danger that surrounded me. Wasn't acceptance an easy access to control? It would mean that I'd be more mentally prepared for whatever awaited me.

But I don't want to think like this. I just want to work at the cafe with Mel again. The thought filled me with anguish. Why was normality so fragile?

"Oh shit, look, a fight's about to break out." Hitch nudged me and nodded her chin in front of us. I followed her gaze.

"Why the fuck are you pushing me?" The man scoffed, placing his hand on the guy's shoulder and shoving him backwards. "Are you trynna pick a fight? Huh?"

"You're the one who's pushing me you bastard." The guy scoffed, pushing the man back in retaliation. "If you didn't fucking notice, we're in a crowded room so what the hell did you expe-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, a fist landed straight on his face. I grimaced, watching as the guy was sent to the ground, yelling in pain as he cradled his bloodied nose.

However, even when he had knocked the guy to the ground, the man didn't relent. His face contorted all sorts of different expressions, but his rage was the most prominent as he landed hit after hit, his fists flying left and right while the guy attempted to shield himself with his forearms, but evidently failed. The sight made my blood feel like ice. The aggression and lack of remorse contradicted everything I learnt in Taekwondo. There was a mutual respect for our opponents, but even I knew that there wasn't a chance of these rules applying in a real-life situation and it was naive of me to think otherwise.

"Hey! Cut it out." The blond man who was preaching from earlier locked his arms around the man, pulling him back. The man thrashed mindlessly, too caught up in the adrenaline to moderate himself. "He's down, there's no need to fight anymore. Calm the fuck down."

While he was attempting to calm the man, two other people, a tall brunette guy and a blonde girl, kneeled down and helped the guy who had got beaten the shit out of to his feet. It seemed as if the brawl had taken everyone aback as another wave of silence swept across the hall, it even left me feeling uneasy.

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