1 Metal Of Creation

Chapter 1

Metal Of Creation

"Girl, look somewhere else for sympathy because I do not care about your problems." Zaylee taunted while proceeding to snatch her shoes from the ground before slipping them on.

"Ugh, why are you such a..."

"Kira, Don't," Daisha interjected before Kira could finish her insult.

I watched from afar as Kira rolled her ice-gray tinted eyes. Her onyx shaded hair flowed across her shoulder when she bent, reaching for her silver-chrome colored bow and arrows. I tried to tune out the ignorant banter of my roommates returning to my morning routine. Which consisted of me tying my hair into a long braid then proceeded; to slowly wrap it in a low bun. Daisha's aqua blue eyes sparkled with amusement as Zaylee rebutted against Kira. The atmosphere was light and energized today, as always. The air in the room felt uplifting and carefree. Every morning it was like this. The same three girls, laughing and picking with each other. Their banter and carefree attitudes would draw you in even if you were a bystander. If I were someone else, I would have joined in and told Zaylee that her opinion was irrelevant, and then I would laugh at the face she would serve me. My heart puttered and pattered against my chest at the thought of joining. I wasn't someone else. It was me. The urge was always a constant prickle in my mind, and like always, I immediately smacked it away. Instead of giving in to my desires, I turned toward the wall near my bed. Showing my back to the people who continued to argue and giggle like they were in a normal place surrounded by their closest companions.

They weren't normal, and we weren't close. We may have worked together for a good few years, but we still were not close like companions should be. At least, I wasn't connected with them. She made sure of it. There was nothing humane about us or this dark place. I sighed. We've been here for three months and counting. Learning the ways of the arena, the teams that competed, and our strategies on how to win the game. We stayed silent watching, as the other teams here competed. Learning how they fought, how they dealt with loss and their weaknesses. It was starting to become a normal, boring routine. I hated boring and normal. It was another way to get slow, and being slow in my life was a death sentence. Fortunately for me, everything was about to change. Daisha, our leader, finally decided today was the day we would let ourselves be known. I rubbed away the smirk beginning to cross my face. Unfortunately for Daisha, she was oblivious to what I had planned. A plan that I had carefully laid out step by step. Soon, I would be nothing but a file on a Bio-Screen. With a renewed determination, I began to finish my daily routine. After I finished my hair, I turned back around at the exact moment Kira chose to rise from her cot. I glanced at her. Her ebony shaded hair tied up in a high ponytail swished side to side like a pendulum in a grandfather clock. She trudged toward the door. Her steps, her movements, reminding me of a fluid dancer. Like always, she was the first to enter the line. She paused to stand in front of the door with her hands folded behind her back. Her shoulders stiff. I rolled my eyes. She was that kind of elite who was always striving for perfection.

Always looking for ways to prove her worth and become the leader of our team again. Even her stance in line showed her strive for perfection. Her back was stiff and straight. She wore our team's usual ensemble which, consisted of a silver-colored long-sleeved shirt with black stripes going down the sides of the arms. The stripes matching the color of the skin-tight pants. The fabric of our clothes fabricated to withstand any environment they chose to use in the arena. Our team symbol embroidered in white on the back of the shirt and the side of each pant leg. The symbol was of Tertian origin meaning, the word metal. The fabrics of her suit had no imperfection insight. Kira, I, and the whole team had one thing in common about these Bio-suits. We all thought they were itchy and stupid. To be honest, we missed our old uniforms. The ones that were specially made for our body measurements and individual abilities. The suits we wore now; were not. The metal fibers embedded in them were a constant reminder of what was to the Bio-communities. Weapons. Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I glanced at Daisha when she rose from her cot. Her back was facing me as she yawned stretching her arms above her head. I watched as her gray shirt bunched up at the back rising, enough for me to see the light scars scattered across her back. My own scars burned, as the painful memory of how received them surfaced. I glanced away, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. We all had scars. Some were granted "mercy" and received them across their back.

Others, like me, acquired scars on the more noticeable body parts. My scars were on my forearms, and one long jagged ran across my neck. Daisha's scars were only above the surface of her skin, which was a way to show obedience. Mine was meant to show my status. The Serpent Armada's Captain took longer and used more force on mine. The lashes went deeper and were more jagged than Daisha's or anyone else's on my team. The one across my neck, though, was a perplexity even to me. To be honest, I didn't have an exact idea of what most of my scars meant. My curiosity toward them was occupied; with something else, at the time they were delivered. It could have been the Snake Armadas captain's way of showing that I was delinquent, a low life that fought against Bio-ware's authority. It could be a sign of failure. Although, everyone single one of us in this dark, depressing room experienced the repercussions of failure. One minute on the lashing post had us never losing another round again.

I pushed myself from the bed, shoving away the memories of my first time on the lashing post. The creak it gave silenced the room. I felt all eyes land on me as I made my way toward the farthest of the five beds in the room. Where cocooned, in a light gray blanket, was the last member of our team, she slept with covers completely covering her body. I bent at the waist, slightly reaching a hand out to shove the shoulder of its sleeping member. The sound of covers sliding was the only sound that filled the room. She peeked past them, her eyes searching the room before landing on me with a glare. Her unnatural eyes the only visible feature as she started to growl. I stood there for a good minute while her threatening glare scanned me from head to toe. She gave me a look that would have anyone lesser running with their pants soiled with a brown stain. After she gave me a look down, white irises with serpentine pupils finally met my bored brown ones. I motioned with my hands for her to rise. She flashed her sharp canines at me as a warning. I rolled my own eyes, stepping away from the bed. I stepped around her bed, moving toward the weapon case. Silence filled the room like always when I moved to wake Masha. The fun mood in the room earlier disappeared as anxiousness swooped in. I turned to stare at her over my shoulder, making sure she was moving.

Masha gave a yawning stretch. The scales on her arms reflected the light coming from the ceiling. Out of all of us, her features were the most visible, and like all of us, when she was created, something must have went wrong with the Bio-DNA enhancement. Sometimes her whole skin would shine like scales, or, like now, her mouth was wide open, exposing her sharp canines. She was definitely one of kind. Her arms, shooting skyward before she threw the covers off her body. She crouched on top of her bed, a sinister smile stretching across her face as her long nails scraped against the metal rods holding her cot aloft, creating an eerie sound. Everyone else in the room flinched. I frowned at her, and she smiled at me, winking. She hopped out of bed, moving toward the only bathroom in the room. When the door closed with a resounding click. A few minutes of pure silence passed before the fun feeling in the room returned. I heard Zaylee give her own yawn breaking the anxious tension. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her blue hair crick and crack as her purple-white electricity ran through it.

"Man, we need a new plan this time, guys. Oh, and Kira, no ideas from you. The last time we listened to you, Daisha was in the infirmary for a week. Not A day. A whole damn week."

She pointed a finger in her direction, blue electricity zapping at the end as if it too were blaming Kira.