TANALYA GREENEWOD: World 10

Twenty one

With a stress ball squeezed in his fists, he watched quietly with slit eyes as the other children beat the man up. 13-year-old Jeremiah Kaleen had been through thick and thin, yet the sight still affected him despite the fact he'd been the one to order it be done. He'd come to rule over the other children as the years passed by. He was by far the most agile, cunning and his strength was outstanding. He'd even created an escape route in the dungeon they'd spent their time in and gotten the spare key to unlock the cell doors. He was simply brilliant and the teenagers hastily heeded every word he said, some due to respect but others mostly due to fear. They'd all seen what could happen if Jeremiah got angry. The way his eye twitched as he tried to withstand the urge to punch something, the way he glared at his victim like a prey. It was engraved into their minds after the first time and the beating that he'd given the victim that day was a story to tell. No one could be as merciless as he was when he got mad.

But he was still sane. Watching others being beat up didn't pleasure him, but it was part of his daily job.

In all the six years, not once did he hear a thing about his father. Not once did he even get to be himself. He was constantly out taking abilities and dealing with people like ordered. After Furner had found out about how Jeremiah had actually taken an Initial's ability, he was only sent on hunts for Initials. He had his group of people and they were sent out to stage 'harvestings' as they called it, and they were only based on Initials- Jeremiah usually taking it, but he had tons of abilities already at his will and new ones were the only things that could entice him enough to take someone's ability.
Of course, he was a rebel. No one could control him. He did what he did discreetly, keeping in mind only the benefits and future plans.

Number one on the list of future plans was finding somewhere else to run to- that or taking over Furner's household, and risking their lives. As a matter of fact, the only reason they hadn't raised an attack on the household was because all 22 children were close and wanted to live. As their leader, laying low for the mean time and finding somewhere to run to was safer. But of course he would blow up the place the very second they were safe.

"Fine FINE... FINE! I'll tell you..." The man in their midst, being beaten to a pulp was screaming out the words suddenly. He was close to dead- at wits end. Killing him wouldn't have scarred their plans... they had a lot of victims to torture, all lined up waiting for their turn anxiously.

Furner stepped forward with a smirk on his face as he cracked his knuckles and gave the guy one more punch for good measure. He then took out a phone and gestured to the teenagers lined up behind him.

"Group Phase, return to the dungeons immediately," They all bowed slightly, except Jeremiah who had his gaze fixated on the man literally crying out blood. He finally tore his gaze away and on the lead of his group members, made his way into the main house. He paused briefly at the door and glanced around the eerie, quiet vicinity. He glanced up at the moon and countless thoughts ran through his mind. He bit his finger hard till it bled and sighed as he regained himself. He had to hurt himself to keep his body under control. It was a bad habit from since he was a child, but it was effective. It was one of the few things that kept him under control on sight of a new Initial.

Worse than when he was younger, the scent of Initials made him go berserk; He could now smell them from a mile away and unlike other people in his group; he could pinpoint their exact location. Of course this made him an entity to have and Furner constantly flaunted him in occasions. He practically had no weaknesses now reality had hit him like a bitch to the face. He'd constantly been shaken at the sound of his father getting beat up at his screw ups, but it seemed his father was nowhere to be found- it seemed he wasn't coming back. The thought had lingered there since day one, and he spent years trying to reassure himself, but he did not care anymore. He would in fact kill his own father if he ever got the opportunity. He'd been sold out for some cheap change and he had the files to prove it. Jovah deserved to be punished... and that's why number two on his list was to deal with him. Just the thought enlightened him, got him back on track and he made to enter the house, but a cry stopped him.

"LEAVE ME ALONE. DADDY, DADDY I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE! PLEASE, I'LL BE GOOD," A scream followed, "HE'S HURTING ME," Jeremiah groaned at the tugging feeling at his chest. He let his feet lead him round to the front of the house where Furner's son, Michael, a red head with grey eyes, was straddling a child not more than seven years old. A car was pulling out onto the street and a man sat in there unbothered by the screams of the child. The sight came as a slap of déjà vu and he was immediately infuriated at it. He ran up to the car, making the man smash the brakes abruptly as he came in front of it.

"WHAT THE HELL, JEREMIAH?" He ignored Michael's scolding and watched as the man stepped out angrily.

"DADDY, DADDY!" Jeremiah shut his eyes and let the girl's screams sink in. He'd so badly wanted to scream that the first day. He didn't. He had to be obedient. He felt everything she felt. The emptiness that came with being abandoned

A harsh slap was planted on his cheek and he opened his eyes, not flinching. He felt the anger fill him and he didn't bother to hide his glare.

"STUPID CHILD; DO YOU WANT TO DIE?" The man screamed and without thinking, Jeremiah slammed his hand on his face. The man stumbled backwards and Jeremiah stepped forward, gripping the man's shirt.

"You are making the biggest mistake of your life," Jeremiah started, his hands repeatedly clenching as he tried resisting the urge to punch the day lights out of him, "When she comes for revenge.... I will be the one to lead it. You would all die... Every single one of you scrums!" Jeremiah glared at the man again and then slowly let him go. He made his way hastily back to the building and ignored Michael's glare, pushing him off and grabbing the girl. He squatted down to her height and dusted the dirt from her cloths. His eyes softened as he looked at the girl's red puffy green eyes and frown. She was shaking and was clearly terrified of him. He gave her a warm smile, "It will be fine 'Kay?" He said in a soft voice, "Forget him. What's your name?" The girl gulped and with a shaky voice replied him.

"Aria," He nodded and picked her up. With a final glare to Michael for good measure, he made his way inside the building and straight to the basement and opened the door, advancing down the all too familiar stairs that lead underground. He placed the child down the second they'd landed and the children slowly came out of their cells.

"Another one...?" The youngest among the children stated. His name was Al and he was part of Group Phase. He was the most extroverted, and yet the most insane after Jeremiah, constantly known for laughing as he sliced his victims. He, like every other person stuck there, despised this trafficking practice. He'd been there since he was 3 and was one of the first captives.

"Yeah; her name's Aria," Jeremiah stated and patted the girl's brown curls. She held on to his shirt and hid behind him, searching the vicinity over and over. Jeremiah gestured to her, "Now see, Aria, there are many of us stuck here, just like you. You aren't alone, okay. We'll protect you," Aria shook her head.

"No... daddy will come... I was a bad girl so he kept me here... I'm not like you. I'll tell him to help you!" Jeremiah burst out laughing at what Aria said. It was an all too familiar feeling and he could completely get the angle she was coming from. He squatted to her height and smiled boyishly. He sighed and wiped some dirt on her face, thinking of how to point this out.

"No one will come for you," He stated blankly, "No one is coming for any of us,"