Inextricable: A Divergent FanFiction (Book Three) ©

Chapter 8

You'd think that nothing would be able to top waking up from a coma in a completely new faction, only to find out you'd been gravely injured, then realizing you'd lost more than a year's worth of memories in the process. No, you just wouldn't think that, because anything more would simply be insane.

Yet here I am; I thought dazedly as the world around me seemed to fall still.

What could top all that you ask? Simple, finding out you'd literally died.

Not that your heart had stuttered and wheezed, that it'd skipped a beat or had paused for an instant, but that your light had actually been extinguished; your physical body no more than a husk as your essence drifted toward some unknown afterlife. I'd flat-lined, kicked the bucket, followed the light, had been legally considered deceased; that is, until Banks had intervened.

What I thought was a joke was ending up as the most eye-opening piece of information I'd received since I'd woken up.

"You do not believe me," Banks said simply when I was unable to provide a reply to his statement.

"No, I don't," I responded without pause. "That's impossible. I didn't die. I mean, look at me, I'm right here."

"Did Dan not tell you?" He asked with a trace of amusement in his voice.

As I prepared to tell the guy off, I was surprised when Dan spoken up; his voice cutting and laced with spite.

"I thought we'd agreed that I'd tell him when the time was right," he said as he glowered at Banks, crossing his arms in an apparent attempt to rein in his anger.

With those words any doubts I might've had vanished. Dan had my complete and utter trust; he'd never deceive me, let alone stand by quietly if he was a witness to it.

"You proposed that," Banks nodded, "but I never agreed to those terms. He should know, and sooner is better than later." When Dan didn't answer, Banks turned to me and raised a brow. "Are you not curious as to what it was that landed you here? Do you not care to know the name of the person that took your life?"

For an instant I didn't speak. Admittedly, I already felt a surge of unease at the thought of knowing what had happened. However, the need to know the truth called deeper than any other emotion. With a steely resolve, I nodded once and prepared myself for what I was about to hear.

"Tell me everything."

"Very well," he said, not seeming at all surprised by my answer. "Approximately three weeks ago you were attacked by a student of yours during an exhibition fight in the Cage. Though knives aren't permitted, she somehow managed to sneak one in and used it to impale your heart, not once –but twice. When you were finally brought into the hospital it was too late. You had lost an exorbitant amount of blood, and the damage to your body was irreparable."

As if responding to his words, I felt the muscles in my chest ache, and my heart throbbed with phantom pains. All throughout Banks'speech I'd kept expecting to catch some semblance of a lie in his voice, his posture, anything. However, as he continued to speak calmly and professionally, I realized that it was all true.

"If you were to peel that bandage off," Banks continued, "you would be able to see that the wound was obviously caused by a serrated weapon."

Mouth dry, I hesitantly began to remove the gauze. However, unlike before, I was slower and more deliberate when I did it this time around. Careful not to make any jerky movements, I gaped when I was finally able to pull it completely free and see what it'd been hiding.

Under the sterile dressings, clammy skin had swelled up along a jagged line of stitches; ones that looked like a macabre version of a zipper. Though the sutures were sewn taught, the very edges still continued to seep spots of blood. As I stared a sudden flash of yesterday came to mind; of when the doctor had been patching me up like a frayed doll.