Three-sixteen’s POV
“I don’t want this,” Three-sixteen answered. “Isn’t this place all about making your own choices? So why can’t I make mine?”
Ivy eyed Three-sixteen, then turned back to the row of black outfits hung up in the closet and tossed him one of them. It landed in a heap at Three-sixteen's feet then she picked out another suit for herself and gestured for Three-sixteen to try his. “You can, once you’ve shown everyone that you deserve freedom. Until then, you do as told.” She pointed at the outfit again, “Put it on.”
Three-sixteen did not want to get dressed, but he didn’t know what other choice he had. As things stood he had no way of leaving this place on his own and whatever plans he’d developed in the tunnels were now useless. The tunnel itself was ruined and crawling with creatures that might be capable of killing magistrates. That aside, he no longer had any way out of the tunnel.
Three-sixteen sighed.
“What?” Ivy approached, moving hair out of her face as her eyes looked deeply into his like she was peering into his soul. “Still worried about the crew you left behind?”
Three-sixteen didn't answer her and she rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. “Really, I've had it up to here with you!”She made a gesture but Three-sixteen turned away; he understood her frustration well enough.
If he were in her position perhaps he’d be equally as irritated. He’d certainly been frustrated with the foolish halfwits he had to manage in the mines. He just didn’t understand why it should bother her so much, nor was he interested in finding out.
Ivy moved in front of him, her eyes as piercing as a blade. She pursed her lips, crossed her arms, then huffed before finally saying, “I will explain this to you once more, and only once. Those people you left behind, they’re dead. Even if they did survive somehow, they’re still dead. They will never be free. They will never matter. You, are different. I’ve not only pleaded your case to the Raven King and gained permission for you to be tested, but I’ve managed to convince half the leadership council that you should be tested. Even Bones agreed and he was initially dead set on keeping you to himself.
“I’ll admit most of them only agreed out of their own bloodlust and they figure it’ll be especially interesting to watch you struggle hopelessly, but they don’t know what you’re capable of. I do. If you do this, you’ll be a raven and once you’re a raven you can do anything you want to. You could—”
“Run away from here and never come back?” Three-sixteen cut in sarcastically as he bent down and picked up the black clothes before heading over to the bed and tossing them down on top of it.
Ivy growled, narrowing her eyes as she watched Three-sixteen remove his shirt.
He felt her eyes like hot daggers against his skin but tried not to show that it bothered him. Instead he feigned nonchalance as he asked, “So what exactly makes me special? I’m just a number that ate some crystals. According to Bones being a number at all automatically means I’m useless. How exactly is this place any different from anywhere else?”
He turned to face her and found her standing much closer than expected. Her hands were balled into fists and her eyes glared back at him, but there was something else there too. Something more than anger and annoyance, it was hard for him to pin down exactly what. The look in her eye was a bit familiar, it reminded him of Five-ninety-one and he couldn't help but frown as he wondered where she might be now.
“A raven isn’t tied to its nest, but all ravens return home.” She stated simply, her eyes locked onto his like she was searching for something as she continued, “You may think you want to leave now, but one day you’ll see. One day you’ll understand and then you’ll come back. Either way, if you don’t do this, if you don’t prove yourself a raven, then you won’t ever return because you’ll never leave.”
Three-sixteen was tired of playing nice, but he forced a smile anyway as he turned his back on Ivy and went to dress in private. He hated this place and everything about it. It wasn't as if he'd asked for this; he was brought here against his will and now they expected him to prove himself worthy? “Idiots. If they want to see blood they can just go into the tunnels and watch their own blood as they’re torn apart by beasts.”
“Maybe they would,” Ivy said placidly, “If there were anything left down there. When I left you earlier our King had already handled it.”
Three-sixteen bit his lip in irritation. This woman really did want him to perform for the other ravens. She had her own reasons and reasons beyond that; whatever they were he didn’t care. The thought of it was absolutely infuriating and Three-sixteen half wanted to tell her that there was no way he would ever play along with this farce, but he stopped himself because he realized that his greatest chance of escape might just lie in playing along.
Ivy clapped her hands in approval as Three-sixteen pulled on the black suit and adjusted his collar. She grinned then turned away as she said, “You're also an idiot, but that's okay as long as you survive.”
She opened the door to his room then turned back and said, “Let's go.”
Three-sixteen frowned as he once again thought of Five-ninety-one. He didn’t have time for such thoughts. He needed to focus so he forced the thought aside and stepped out of the room. Ivy nodded her approval then turned to lead him down the hall.
As they walked, Ivy asked, “So you really believe that you’re just some number?”
Three-sixteen shrugged and remained silent because there was nothing he could say without showing weakness. At the same time though, he knew that such a statement wasn’t necessarily true, at least not anymore. He’d never heard of a number, or anyone for that matter, that could communicate with wild beasts. He was completely unique as far as he knew and even that thought scared him a little.
Ivy clicked her tongue then continued, her voice remaining calm and composed despite the faint trace of amusement in her tone. “Well, I assure you no number could do what you’re about to do. Not even if they’d eaten a thousand crystals.”
Three-sixteen grimaced. Ivy was probably joking, but he only realized that after the words, “Well of course not, they’d be long dead.” passed his lips.
Ivy burst into laughter, leaving Three-sixteen to wonder what was funny. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer any explanation. He found the lack of clarity frustrating, but considered that perhaps what he said was funny because it wasn’t true. Five-ninety-one certainly didn’t believe it.
Three-sixteen felt sick the more he thought of the mines, Five-ninety-one, and especially Magistrate Luck. Even the somewhat pleasant memories seemed to turn his stomach with regret. If he could relive those experiences, as he was now, he was sure everything would be different. No number would die on his watch, he might even help them escape.
Of course even if that were possible, Three-sixteen knew there was no way to undo the past.
Ivy nudged him in the ribs and he realized that they had arrived at a door. She gestured towards it with a smile. “Your future awaits,” she said as she knocked twice.
The door opened a few seconds later, and a raven clad in red offered him a thin smile as he led him into the room and said, ”You must be the number.”
Three-sixteen didn't want to respond, but he forced a smile anyway and nodded once.
The man smiled again then placed a hand on Three-sixteens shoulder and directed him into the center of the room before gesturing at several individuals sitting in chairs around him. Three-sixteen recognized none of them, but he was pretty sure they weren’t pleased to see him.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
One man stood up, his nostrils flaring as he asked, “What is this?” He pointed a finger at Three-sixteen's face then turned to Ivy with a glower.
“I can’t believe you were actually serious,” said another. “You better be ready to make good on our bet.”
Another of the ravens laughed. Three-sixteen glared at the man as he got up and reached towards him with an eager smile on his face. Three-sixteen tensed as the man drew closer, then shifted away from him when the man tried to grab his arm.
Three-sixteen offered him a thin smile but the man scowled in return so Three-sixteen said, “Unless you’re the one I’m fighting, I can’t imagine you have any need to touch me.”
The man pulled his hand away slowly and sneered down at Three-sixteen, looking him up and down. Then his eyes narrowed before he turned away, dismissing Three-sixteen with a snort as he retook his seat.
Three-sixteen caught sight of a device that looked like a small radio and a number of other tools, but he didn’t care about those. He didn't see any weapons of course, but he didn’t expect there to be any. The ravens weren't stupid enough to leave their weapons lying around for someone like him to use.
It seemed they weren’t expecting any real confrontation since none of them seemed concerned with his presence at all.
Ivy stepped forward, her eyes full of confidence as she asked, “Are we ready to begin?”
The one who stood up earlier responded quickly and firmly. “Oh we’re ready. It’ll be a simple test, let the boy cut down those he labored with in the tunnels and earn his freedom. If he lives through it then he passes, but I'll gladly take my compensation if he loses…” He looked Ivy up and down, licking his lips like he was looking at a delicious meal. “…I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
Ivy nodded. Then turned and beckoned Three-sixteen towards another door. He followed after her, ignoring the man and the rest of the ravens behind him as he whispered to Ivy, “What did you promise them?”
“Money, crystals, my body… whatever they wanted as long they agreed to bend the rules for you. It doesn’t matter because you are going to win.”
Three-sixteen didn't have anything else to say so he remained silent and followed her through the door and into an even larger space.
It was dark, the only light a dim glow from several wisps of flame that seemed to float in the air above them.
Three-sixteen ignored those flames and instead focused on the three men standing on the other side of the room. Their faces were hidden in shadows, but Three-sixteen recognized them regardless. Daisy, Trendy, and
a man whose name he hadn’t learned yet. They were injured all over, some more than others, and their injuries were crudely bandaged with scraps of fabric torn from their clothes.
Daisy glared at Three-sixteen, her nose twitching as it scrunched up and her eyes narrowed. She was angry, but that anger quickly faded into fear. Three-sixteen could almost see the flashbacks in her eyes. He thought she must have recalled how Sifters came to his aid and tore Zel’air to shreds.
Trendy bore a similar terrified expression but with none of Daisy's hatred. She retreated backwards in fear while the man stepped forward defiantly, clenching his teeth and glaring back at Three-sixteen as if trying to scare him away. All of them looked weak and ragged, but they were alive. Three-sixteen was glad to learn they survived and he had hope the others did as well. He didn’t care about this test or whatever it was supposed to be; he wasn’t going to fight them.
Ivy looked back, locking eyes with him. “They’re dead either way, but if you win here, you’ll be free,” she whispered.
Three-sixteen shook his head slowly in response as he broke eye contact with Ivy. He wasn’t going to hurt someone innocent for no reason. There was another path forward, there had to be.
Ivy returned to the previous room, whispering, “I’ve staked everything on you. Don’t dare make me regret it.” As she passed him.
Somewhere in the darkness above, a loud voice called out, “Today we experience something new. Today a Raven will be born, but will it be that we observe as a number races over the hurdles of life? Or will he face the limitations that have held back so many before him? Will number Three-sixteen break free of his limitations and soar? Or will he crash headlong into the wall of deficiency that separates numbers from people capable of survival in this world? That answer will be determined here, now, in the games of pain. Three-sixteen you have fought alongside these men for your very lives against beasts from the depths of hell itself. Now you will face one another in a fight to the death, but of course overcoming such trifles is hardly proof that one is deserving of the title Raven. The victor of your battle will then prove his or her mettle against a predator like no other. Prepare yourselves, for tonight we bear witness to history in the making! Let the struggle begi—” the voice was cut off by the roar of an invisible crowd.
Three-sixteen blinked at the unexpected introduction, then slowly looked back at the three slaves. Ivy had said they would die if he refused to participate, but if he was to understand what was just said he was in just as much danger.
The other ravens were all here to watch his death. They had no intention of letting him walk free and clearly had little intention of letting him live through this ordeal. They wanted blood and he was here for their pleasure.
Three-sixteen clenched his teeth, grinding them together in anger. Ivy had known all along that the crew survived. She knew he would be forced to fight them and she still pushed him forward with a false narrative and encouragement to get him to this point, but why? She didn’t seem dull, surely she would know he wouldn’t—
A bullet whizzed past Three-sixteen’s ear, grazing him slightly, then it slammed into the wall behind him. He reached up to touch his ear and it came away red. Three-sixteen turned his head to see that Trendy held a smoking pistol. “Why?” He asked, then flinched as she fired again. This time the bullet hit Three-sixteen in the arm. He fell to his knees and clutched his wound, as something inside him stirred. His arm bled badly, but it began to heal almost immediately.
Trendy steadied her aim, but Daisy pushed her arm up just as she pulled the trigger again.
The older woman slapped Daisy then turned the gun on her. Three-sixteen wanted to help, but he was too far away to do anything.
“Oh no folks, it looks like this number is just a number after all. Too slow and weak to do anything except kneel and whimper as he watches his own demise approach in the form of a single bullet from his former teammate's gun. It's such a shame, but let's hope that this isn't truly how our test ends.”
The voice was full of excitement as it continued, “Woah! Now that was unexpected. Who knew Timid Dim’it had such hidden potential.”
The room responded with a roar and Three-sixteen glanced up as something flew across the room, something orange and fast. Heat flushed his cheeks then a flaming fist collided with his jaw. The blow sent him flying back several feet, sliding across the smooth stone floor.
Three-sixteen gasped in pain as he turned his head to look back at his attackers. The man Three-sixteen had once shown the proper way to swing a pickaxe stood over him, both fists clad in flame. His wounds were no longer visible beneath the bandages, in fact he didn’t seem injured at all. Three-sixteen had no time to wonder why that was; he threw himself forward and rolled away to dodge another fireball that crashed into the floor behind him.
It shouldn’t be this way, they didn’t need to fight. Why did they choose to fight? The situation was wrong in so many ways and Three-sixteen had no intention of killing his comrades for the amusement of others. But he wasn’t willing to die either. Maybe they would listen to him? Maybe he could convince them not to fight.
Timid Dim’it was beside Three-sixteen before he had a chance to react. A flaming foot shot into his stomach causing a spray of blood to explode from Three-sixteens mouth before he collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
Three-sixteen gagged, the metallic taste of blood stung his tongue as he coughed. His vision blurred and he could barely breathe as Timid Dim'it ran forward and began beating his face with fire laden fists.
Blood filled Three-sixteens eyes, blinding him as he tried to cover his head with his hands and move away.
“You don’t have to do this! I won’t hurt you. I won’t fight.” Three-sixteen couldn't tell if the words left his lips or if they were only in his mind. Even if they were spoken they clearly didn’t matter, Timid Dim’it didn't stop. Three-sixteen had no other option and managed to grab the man's leg as it collided with his chest then twisted it. The bone cracked with a crunch and Timid Dim'it fell over screaming in pain.
Less than a second passed before a flurry of bullets peppered Three-sixteen, breaking several bones and tearing flesh before finally exiting out of his back, leaving him bleeding and in agony.
His ears rang and his breath came like a blade scraping against his lungs as he inhaled and exhaled raggedly. His vision went red and white then everything went dark.
“Ladies and gentlemen it appears the number has been defeated, but never fear my friends for the games have only just begun. If you can recall our rules, allow me to remind you that in this competition failure is a guarantee, but victory comes to those who possess the will and determination to do what must be done!”
Another voice chimed in, saying, “The number is defeated, but this struggle isn’t quite done! It’s to meet the silent hunter, master stalker, dealer of death and infinite misery! Bring out the Deeeeeeeeppp Lurker!”
There was a boom overhead like the sound of thunder then a beam of light struck the center of the chamber. Three-sixteen couldn’t see anything clearly as he lay there on the floor, bleeding and waiting to die. But he could feel a change in the air as something slithered close by.
The creature seemed to ignore him, but Dim’it’s sreaming cries made Three-sixteen grateful for his blindness.
Dim'it begged for mercy, pleaded that he had a family to return to, that he would do anything if given a chance at survival. He sounded like he was still crying, but his voice quickly stopped and was replaced with the sounds of bones breaking and flesh being torn.