Twisted Retribution

Chapter Twelve - Hierarchy.

A few hours maybe, or was it nearly a day? Without companions, navigating a foreign world had made Modria lose track of time. She suspected she had been avoiding the Beastan's watching eyes for a while, although her gut told her it had only been a matter of minutes.

I'm going to lose my mind in here! She inwardly wailed, pressing her back to a wall and peering round the corner. To make things worse, she had no idea where she was. The entrance she had taken had lead her into, what seemed to be a deserted laboratory; from there she had taken to scuttling from shadow to shadow down endless corridors, now she had no idea how to get back. Luckily, stubbornness was ever a common rebel trait, and she was determined to find her way. Modria deeply regretted the brash moves she had made after her comrades had died, yes she wanted to avenge them, but how could she do that? Technically they had already been avenged, nearly, for the Beastans that had ambushed them were dead, asides from Kanelin.

So that was why she was here, she figured; she had been drawn here to kill him. Not to scout out the place, like she had decided to do at first. Not to kill all the Beastans in here, like she had thought. Not even to find Elijah, whom she was now sure had been taken by the Beastans. But to kill the Beastan she had trusted.

With that thought, she wondered if Kanelin had ever told her the truth at all. How many lies had he spun to her?

Shaking her head, Modria darted across the corridor, crouching down in a dark patch of shadow; thinking about things that were not relevant would get her killed. If she was off her guard for just one second....

"What are you doing?"

Modria froze, and she felt eyes bore into her back. Of course, she should've known Beastans could see in the dark. What can they not do? She thought bitterly.

"Why are you sitting down there?"

That voice, Modria recognized it. Her hand clutched tightly at her pistol, though she knew it wouldn't be much good. In fact, the noise of it would only serve to attract attention. So that was it, she was going to die here. So be it. She wouldn't die without a fight though. Lurching up, she spun to face the Beastan. Their eyes locked.

"You!" they both cried in unison.

"You nearly killed me." Modria shouted.

Whilst at the same time the Beastan asked, "What are you doing here?!"

Modria growled and dropped her pistol, at the same time she pulled Vince's knife from her belt. "I'm not going to let you finished what you started."

"I don't want to!" Lou protested, holding his hands up to the volatile rebel. "I only did what I was told to do; I didn't want to hurt you."

"Liar," Modria hissed back, "all of you scumbags are liars."

There was something about the way her voice shook that made Lou consider the fact that something terrible had happened, "What's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong?" Modria snapped, "My friends are dead, killed by your filthy kind. I'm lost inside Bestia, and now you're here, no doubt trying to kill me again. Quit your lies, I know what your people do, pretend to be all friendly and helpful, wanting nothing in return, but then you're going to throw your head back and call for help. I know the games you play!"

Lou took another step back, "who killed them?" he asked quietly.

Modria sniffed indignantly, "don't tell me you'll hunt him down for me and avenged their deaths, I don't trust you."

"Who killed them?" Lou queried again, more forcefully this time.

"Kanelin."

"Filthy bastard," Lou uttered, his fists clenching at his sides, "that one has no honour, almost as bad as Serina herself."