Esmeray (Queen of Darkness)

05

The Phantom Order, as they call themselves, live up to every childhood story you may hear about them. Whether you were told as a little child that they would come to your room and take you away, or when you're older you tell them as scary tells in the night to scare you and your friends to the point of getting no sleep. Either way, these people are worse.

Walking behind Tesha, my hands twitch at my sides and my nose stings from the strong stench of sweat that wafts in the air around me. Pinching my nose I pull my mask up higher over my face and I focus on the clean scent of the fabric. Turning a corner, Tesha stops me with an opened palm by her side and I send my own message with a few hand motions. Memorizing the Phantom language is the first thing you learn here. It consists of hand motions, the shuffling of your feet, and little bird-like noises. It took me three days to remember every little motion and twist of my fingers and I have the tattoo to prove it. It's a small little patch of black on the back of my ear, but it's big enough to make out the bird permanently etched behind my left on. An owl. They are known for being stealthy and fast. Just like the Phantoms. Just like us. Turning her head she points to her fingers and I crane my head to look at her message.

Two doors. Split up. You right.

Nodding my head I take out my throwing knives and she gives me a finger count before we both quietly run into the room then go in opposite directions. Reaching the door, I push it open then drop down on the other side and put one of my knives leaning against it, so if the door opens, the knife will alert me that someone is coming up from behind. Once it's set I turn and run down the hall. Coming to another door I stop and pull another knife out so I hold two. This is a trap. There were no guards in the hallway so that means they're all waiting behind this door. Recalling my training I pull the door open and step behind it. Just as I predicted, a stream of weapons fly through the open doorway and I back up, pressing my body against the wall. Peering through the crack in the door I quietly wait for the people to come through. As three step over the threshold, the typical number for a group of Phantoms, I slam the door in their faces, momentarily knocking them down. Throwing one knife, the person rolls out of its path and it sticks to the wall behind them. Pulling another I fix my stance and wait for their move. Jumping on me, I hiss through my teeth as one of them punches my chin. Slashing with my knife I knick on their thighs and they drop down to one knee. Kicking their head they slump down and I ignore the twist in my gut and focus on the other two. Throwing a knife I jerk to the side but it catches part of my shoulder. Sucking in a breath I toss mine back and it lands with a loud thud against the person's shoulder. Crying out, he drops down and I kick the other person's ribs. Catching my leg they spin me and I hit the ground hard. Dodging their heel I make my way over to the guy I hit with my knife and punch his temple, knocking him out cold. Pulling my knife from his shoulder I shudder from the sound, then turn just in time. Reaching my back the person lines up to stab me, but I dive under their leg and stick my knife into the back of their calf. Hitting the ground, they groan and I ignore the sickness clenching my stomach and walk into the room at the end of the hall. Walking to the flag in the middle I grab it off the stand and turn around as footsteps approach from the hall.

Grinning at me, the Overseer holds his hand out and I drop the flag into his hand. Examining it, then the wreckage behind him, he claps slowly. Pinching my lips beneath my mask, my fingers itch and I resist the urge to rub them. He shouldn't be clapping at what I did. No one should. Innocent people were hurt. It wasn't right. Wasn't worth the win. Drawing my attention he sticks a finger into my wound and I hiss as his fingers make it burn.

"Barely a scratch," he says, "impressive Aella."

"Thank you, Overseer."

Grinning, he pulls my mask down and I take in a gulp of fresh air. Reaching through my hood, he pushes it down then pushes my chin to the side. Moving a piece of my hair, I shiver from the brush of his fingers, and refrain from shoving him away. Touching my tattoo I flinch and he draws back slowly.