of blood and lies ; dystopian

15

Past

I knelt on the floor, cleaning up some remaining blood from the Anaka. One of my bullets had grazed a child, but it was nothing they hadn't endured before.

My body tensed, reacting to silent footsteps approaching.

I tucked the snake necklace into my shirt and turned to face who was in my training room. If my gun were not out of reach, I would have blown both of their brains out for trying to sneak up on me.

The Murthaa stood high, and a child cowered behind her.

I was beyond grateful that I had forced the Anaka to leave early. If the Murthaa had seen them, so comfortable with me, she may have demoted me or assigned them to herself.

"Good to see you, Naga. I see you are adjusting well to your new training room." The Murthaa gestured to the new room I had been given. I requested something a little bigger, given I wanted to shoot, not throw knives.

The Murthaa's fingers weaved together in front of her. She had blue-hued dreadlocks that ended at the base of her spine. She usually wore her hair tied back in a thick ponytail, but today she left the strands long against her bare arms.

She wore a uniform similar to mine. The letter "M" was stitched on her uniform. "A" was on my Anaka's. "C" was marked on mine.

She did not wear a bulletproof vest, though. She had no reason to. She rarely left her corridors at the Home Office. The Murthaa was merely a face for The Blood; I represented our Sector.

I looked behind her. The child trembled. My mind flashed to General Mills, and when I'd given the head to the child. She seemed to recall the same memory. 7437, the trembling girl, whimpered and hid behind the Murthaa.

The Murthaa would behead her faster than I would if she were given reason. It was odd seeing someone trust her like the child did.

I dipped my head down, welcoming her presence. It was a sign of honor and respect. I bowed my head to the Murthaa and only the Murthaa.

Her position was next. If I wanted it. Commander was the highest ranking until Home Office was involved; the Murthaa and a group of members that would arise if anything were to happen to her. A committee.

"Yes. The girls can train easily here. Fewer places to defend themselves," I replied.

The snake necklace burned against my skin. It would all be over if she saw it.

I did not fear much, or many, but the Murthaa was one I did. She was something else entirely. She was the daughter of The Blood; the creator herself. She was an ancient woman in the skin of a thirty-year-old.

She could die. But, no one had tried.

"I assume you remember 7437." The Murthaa pushed the shaking girl in front of her. She kept her eyes locked with a small spec on the floor.

"Yes," I started. "7437 helped me resolve my issue with my previous superior."

The corners of my mouth twitched remembering Mills. It wasn't him, mostly. I never liked to report to superiors. When I was promoted to Commander, the Murthaa had told me that was the reason she knew I was going to be Commander. I'd rather burn everyone alive than follow them.

"Unfortunately, Theim believes it is best that she is transferred to War. Order was doing her no good. She needs something a little more--" We both looked down to 7437. She continued to shake. "Forceful."

Theim, the Commander of Order. It was uncommon for Anaka to transfer between Sectors. Especially from Order to War. Theim usually sorted the Anaka out; her brutality was inching toward mine.

"Intelligence?" I asked, looking back to 7437.

The Murthaa shook her head. "That is where she is originally from."

My face softened. I was the last Sector. In very rare cases, like 7437, the Anaka would transfer from Sector to Sector. Intelligence was first. Order. And now War.

If she did not crack, and learn to train, she would be euthanized upon the Commitee's approval.

"Of course." I cleared my throat. I'd tie her to a chair and shoot bullets in her hair if it meant her not fearing a gun. She was not going to be euthanized. "I always have room for more."

"Great. You make me proud." The Murthaa dipped her head and turned to face the door. It wasn't deep enough to be considered respect, rather it was a way of thanking me.

I looked back to 7437.

She did not look like she was going to make it long. 

OKAYYYY

what are you guys confused about? i wanna make sure i'm explaining it in a way that is not confusing hahahaha

what we thinking?