𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓
HERE'S THE BULK OF THE IRONY: for having a surname like Lovelace, Chantara had never understood the feeling of love. To care for another human without any strings attached. It was something she never seemed to grasp, becau...
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REVENGE WAS BITTERSWEET, and Tara had grown to love the feeling it sparked inside her chest. A sense of 'look at me now, motherfuckers' casting over her as she knew what she did to her victims. She knew she had reached inside their soul and ripped it out, tearing their body into ribbons of crimson.
Metaphorically, of course.
Tara had gotten her revenge many times before. So many that it soon only became endless names on a list. A list she wished was longer. For even though she had gotten her revenge on her family, there was still someone who's presence made her shoulders tense. Those eyes that always watched the horrors that were afflicted on her, the same ones who did nothing but laugh and point their finger at her.
The dull shade of gray in his eyes hadn't changed in years, even though his outer exterior seemed to have morphed from a pale boy to a tattoed Dauntless leader. Tara watched him as he carelessly leaned against the white concrete, his legs folded in front of him and his face painted with an unamused expression as Four talked.
"There are two stages of training," he began once everyone had arrived at the Pit. "The first is physical. Push your bodies to the breaking point and master the methods of combat." He paced in front of the Initiates, his muscles tensing as he did so. "The second is mental. Again; breaking point. You'll face your worst fears and conquer them," he paused. "Unless they get you first."
Tara's eyes drifted toward Eric again, noticing that his eyes were already printed on her as a leer tugged at his thin lips. Her stomach twisted, both of them aware of what one of her fears must be.
"You'll be trained separately from the Dauntless borns, but you'll be ranked together," Four continued, cathing her attention away from the blonde. "After initiation, rankings will determine what jobs you'll move into." Their gazes met as he walked in front of them. "Leadership; Guarding the Fence; or keeping the Factionless from killing each other," he said directly to Christina, having stopped in front of her and looking down at her face.
Tara felt an amused expression creep up on her face, which she immediately pushed back.
"Rankings will also determine who gets cut," Eric cut in, his voice echoing off the walls of the Pit.
Silence cast over them as everyone analyzed his words, confused expressions prominent on their features.
"Cut?" Christina asked.
He stood. "At the end of each stage of training, the lowest ranking Initiates will be leaving us." And there it was again, the satisfied sneer on his lips, as if he knew his words terrified them to the core. A surge of power washed over him like water dripping from a showerhead.
The boy next to Tara shifted his weight on his feet. "To do what?"
"There's no going home to your families," Eric stated the obvious. "So you'll live Factionless."
