The Colosseum

Bleeding Effect

Ten

Everything is in shades of blinding yellow and translucent blues. Things either shine so brightly that I can't look at them, or appear so dull that I run into them. Nevertheless, I'm right where I should be: back at the pavilion with a heavy sword in my hand. Only this time, Ezra isn't already in front of me.

Confused, I look around. A blue figure makes eye contact with me, tentatively making their way towards me as if they're afraid. That wasn't the Ezra I remembered. Clutching the sword in my hand, I blame the rush of drugs in my system on the abnormality and prepare to follow through with this nightmarish memory. Standing before me, Ezra lacks a sword, as well as a few inches in height. But it's still those flaming amber eyes that bore into me, and they're the ones I hate.

Gritting my teeth, I swing first, just the way it's always been. Gasping, Ezra jumps back and bumps into something. This isn't how it goes. Squinting my eyes, I look behind him to see what he ran into. There should be nothing but open space behind him, yet it's as if he flopped against a brick wall. Perhaps this happened before the memory I frequently recall, and like the conversation I overheard between my parents, I merely forgot this part. Even so, something seems off.

"Come on!" I shout at him, throwing my hands in the air. "Let's get this over with."

He doesn't budge, plastering himself against that invisible wall. I guess I'll just have to initiate the battle. Briskly, I walk his way. The hard ground beneath the soles of my shoes should feel hard and concrete, yet it seems squishy. Annette screwed up when she gave me that shot all at once. I'm sure all my senses and interpretations are off because of that. Absently, I rub the spot where I received the elixir. It feels more bruised than usual.

Ezra takes off into the gardens, still emptyhanded. In the distance, the clocktower seems fuzzy, and the more I try to focus on it, the less I can see it. The blue outline of Ezra grows faded as he increases the distance between us, so I sprint to catch up with him. The palace's greenery in the back is more like a labyrinth than a casual stroll to catch some air, but instead of weaving between the walls of flora, Ezra bolts straight through them like they're made of air. Like he's hit another wall, he pauses in front of some flowers and looks at me, as if mentally pleading for me to stop pursuing him.

With him seemingly cornered, I take my time getting to him. I approach the bird cages, whose residents squawk wildly and incessantly. Using the back of my hand, I swat at one to silence the cacophony. My hand passes right through it. Enraptured by the phenomena, I try again to make sense of what's happening to me. The memory simulation has always given me the ability to feel the things in my head, but now it's as if the memory has weakened. I thought that if anything, the burst of chemicals in my blood would cause my body to experience the past in too much depth; not the other way around.

Snapping out of my thoughts, Ezra reemerges into my line of sight, this time confidently walking back with a set of daggers. Those aren't his choice of weapons. In fact, I specifically recall Ezra being the weakest with those in combat. "I don't want to hurt you," he mournfully informs me.

Barking out a laugh, I swing my sword around, itching to get this over with. I'm tired of playing cat-and-mouse. "Yeah, I'm sure," I bitterly bite. Sprinting at his pale blue outline, I thrust the sword at his chest.

Parrying it with ease, he forms an X with the blades, then brings it up against my sword, directing it over his head. Swiveling around while I'm off-guard, he has the perfect opportunity to drive a dagger deep into my side. Instead, he delivers a powerful sidekick, sending me staggering a few steps before I reorient myself. "Ten, what are you doing?" he questions, keeping his eyes on me as I circle him like a shark.