Chapter F O U R : Killer Instincts

Fate.

Four letters, a single word, so tiny yet so tricky. This seemingly flimsy word carries a grave meaning, a deep connotation. It's too delusional to be trusted in; but it is what we all are entwined with, no matter whether we want it or not.

I had never really trusted that thing, until now that I realize that it is something that's gonna change our live for forever. Why and how? I don't really know that. All I know, is that, when I'm having this kind of feeling, it's a sign that something's gonna happen, and it's big, disastrous and it may have the potential to change the fate of this doomed world.

When I finally start to come around, the first thing that I feel, is the fresh burn everywhere on my body ; it's not only the physical pain, but it has slowly started to reach my heart, my dignity.

Before I can even open my eyes, the first question that choke my pride is that, why they did that to me. Is it a compulsory step that every freshman has to undergo? Or is it just me? If so, then why? What's my fault?

A sharp pain is knocking me off repeatedly inside, my whole body feels like on fire, too sore to move any limb. I haven't had a drink for a while, but I'm sure my state is worse than a hangover. I bet, they used a strong anesthetic, though I'm not quite sure about it, because anesthetics can make one faint temporarily, but I was wide awake while I was presumably getting quite interrogated.

Is it how they treat each student or I'm just only overthinking?

"Wake up, quark! It's all about to start."

The voice. I know the voice. The same smugness, the same idiocy.

As if on cue, my eyes unlatch and I look around, finding myself inside the room, we previously entered, and on a glass seat like before whereas others seem to be in the same state that I was. The seats are disarrayed, and most interestingly some are floating in the air inside a bubble, their eyes closed and breathing shallow. 

So yes, maybe I'm overthinking way too much.

"Hey!" Someone snaps in front of my eyes. Instinctively, I follow the hand, only to find the blond prick, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his face filled with slight amusement, but I wonder why I feel like his eyes are betraying what his exterior exhibits.

"What's on that pretty mind of yours?"

Once a prick, always a prick!

Deciding to ignore him, I try to raise myself on feet, but fail utterly, as a sudden concussion hit me hard, my body still sore. I close my eyes for a moment.

Inhale!

Exhale!

"Hey! What do you think you are doing? It's Leniendo-1000, a strong derivative of cocaine. So don't even think about it," he warns in a serious tone, his facial filled with either bewilderment at my behavior or concern for it. I doubt the chances of the latter very much.

But how did he-

"How did you know what they put ? And how are you sure that it's the exact same thing that you mentioned?" I ask skeptically.

AS soon as my words sink in him, his averts his eyes from me and rubs the edge of his ear.

"Well I...uh..I read it," he looks at me as he speaks. "Yes. I read it in an article, that they do these kinda things. Rest you know, right?" He looks at me with a bit confidence, still rubbing his ear and I instantly know that he's lying.

I look at him cynically, narrowing my eyes in sheer suspicion and asking in my mind, "Oh really? That's that?"

"What? I was surfing through the backgrounds, so it popped up automatically. That's how I know. And that's that," he replies, and his voice confirms my assumptions completely.

But wait! I never said that. Did he read my mind?

"Hmm," I hum in response, yet not certainly satisfied with the answer. "But how come you are not in the...in the.."

"In the...?"

"Uh..you know, the concussions, nausea...um, the hangover kinda feeling. Why do I feel like you are absolutely normal? No sign of post-sedation. Huh?"

"What are...what are you talking about? I came around further ago than you did," he pauses to touch the side of his temple and rubs it slowly. "I have a slight headache, the hammering kinda feeling, you know right?" He looks at me as he whispers those words and then I realize, how close he is sitting in front of me.

"And how do you know, what I'm feeling inside?" He asks, retracting his hand from his temple, then looking at me quizzically.

"Hmm." I avert my gaze from his curious ones, looking around I find the bubbles bursting, and the rest of them settled on their respective seats, looking absolutely gobsmacked as they seem to be feeling the same nausea, I felt when I first opened my eyes.

I look back at him as he tilts his head, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, the same amusement returning in a blink of the moment.

I blink back, thinking of a mean to escape the awkward situation and some hazel scrutinizing gaze.

But wait! Why it's making me feel awkward?

I look back at him, to see him chuckling softly, his smirk turning into a smile, so peculiar, so enticing. "Has anyone ever told you that, you look cute when you blush?"

"I'm not blushing," I protest, though I'm not quite certain about this.

Really? I'm blushing? Why?

No , no. He's just messing with me.

Oh no, no! He just didn't do that.

"Red ears, pink cheeks are a sign of vasodialation of blood capillaries; a sudden act of adrenaline when you are blushing," he explains,  a victorious smirk growing on his face.

"Are you trying to flirt?" I ask, chuckling as I interpreted everything, he has said so far.

"Really? Am I ?" He makes that face, every inch of it draped with sheer amusement. "Is it working?"

I chuckle lightly. "You are unbelievable, you know?"

"So I've been told." He laughs, showing his teeth in display, dimples sucked in at both corners of his lips and it feels like the smile has left his eyes. No doubt, he's aware of his annoyance and he's proud of it.

I glare at him which makes him chuckle hard.

"You know what?" I butt in. "You should be in drama schools. What are you doing here?"

At this, he throws his head back and laughs heartily.

"Well quark ! As you can see, I not only have my charms. I have some actual brain. Even all of us have, but only a few are interested in medicines. Most of them cherish power cause..."

"What do you mean by 'us' ?" I find myself asking, suspicion dripping off my voice as I throw a curious look at him.

First he looked off-guard, but he was quick to cover it up with a dismissive grin. "You don't know the meaning of 'us'? Well if you don't, I can't help you with that. I'm not so into literature, you know?"

I scoff pessimistically. "Stop beating around. You know what I mean," I state calmly with a rigid tone.

He sighs. "'Us' means all of the residents of earth. Happy?"

I scoff and leave a sigh of frustration. He's still lying.

I don't like people who lies so compulsively, without any hesitation nor any regard for conscience. To me, lying is the worst sin. If you lie even if for a friction of a moment, no matter if it's for good or bad, you have to go on lying further and further more. Because one small lie leads to a bigger one and that lie leads to the greater consequences, which either have the bad side or worst. Lying never makes you achieve anything, rather it only knows how to make you poor, snatching all the things away from you, that you ever achieved.

I should hate him for that. But what I don't understand, is why I can't bring myself to do that, not even the slightest.

"Okay." I look away, pushing myself slightly more into the seat, and it moves backwards automatically with the slight drag, creating more space between us. Now this is comfortable yet so cold.

I catch a quick glimpse of him as he smiles to himself, looking down, his hands clasped.

On a spur of the moment, he propels himself forward, by pressing a button on the edge of the seat, closing the gap that I previously created, coming closer to me; so close that it's beyond our comfort. His hazel eyes bores into my blues. I blink a few times and leans my face away from his.

"Are you scared of me, quark?" He asks, flashing his signature smile, leaning his face closer to mine.

"What?" I chuckle awkwardly. "Scared ? Of you? Me? Are you delusional?"

"Am I?" He butt in nonchalantly, amusement bubbling in his voice. "I don't think so."

"Ugh ! He's so annoying," I mutter under my breath, looking away, rubbing my temple with one hand.

"Did you say something?"

"Huh?" I look back at him. "Oh! Nah."

Then I again realize how close he is to me. Instinctively my eyes narrow up to throw him a mean look.

"What?" He chuckles. "Why are you looking at me like that way?"

"Like what?"

"As if you're gonna split my throat and rip my heart out right away, with your obnoxious claws."

"What did you just say?" I straighten up myself. All I can assure, is that he definitely touched the nerve.

"You heard me right and clear, I guess," he confirms right away, leaning back on his seat.

"Uh ughh!!" I sigh out , absolutely exasperated and then start chuckling absurdly and stop it right away.

"It's you who are obnoxious," I whisper calmly and cautiously, so that no one can hear me.

"Ahh! You know what? So I've been told." A toothy grin pops up on his lips, which I, of course, don't bother to return.

"I mean it. And it's better if you stay away from me. No! Actually it's the best. The best," I warn, still scowling, which earns me a hearty chortle from the other side.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are damn funny? Huh?" He throws back his head and goes on laughing, now this time holding his stomach to contain his amusement.

At this, I chuckle out in frustration. "Which part of my saying seems...funny...to you?" This time I use that exceptionally calm tone of mine, which is a clear sign of my upcoming rage.

"You know, you are cute even when you are angry," he speaks as he wicks at me, still smiling innocently.

"Well excuse me?"

"Well, you are excused," he says mimicking my tone.

"Ugh!" I chuckle lightly. "What do you think you are?"

"Whatever you wanna think of me!" He laughs perpetually.

"Listen and listen here very care..." I cannot finish my words as another burning sensation runs up my spine; it's just like the shock that I experienced previously inside the dark room. I bite hard on my lower lip to contain the refreshed pain.

"Hey, hey! Are you alright?" He comes closer, taking my hand in his, as an apprehension washes over his face.

"I don't think so," I reply shakily.

He places his hand over my back  and then, as he rubs it over there, I retract from his touch. It hurts bad.

"Hey! It hurts here?" He asks pointing on my back.

"I guess so," I rasp out, trying to ease up my shallow breaths. I look around and see other freshmen talking among themselves, unaware of my pain.

Now what about this time? Didn't they get this kind of shock just like me? Okay! That's totally fishy. I can't really think of any assumable answer for these questions.

So no, maybe I'm not overthinking.

He was about to stand up, but I grab his hand, stopping him. He looks confused.

"Don't. Please."

"What do you mean by that?" He frowns further looking at my hand on his wrist, finally sitting down beside me. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips.

"Do you have any idea what you are going through?"

I look at him quizzically. "Then who should know, huh? You?" I scoff and straighten my back. It still hurts and I hiss out involuntarily.

"You see?" he snarls. "That's what I'm talking about. You are absolutely not okay, but still not ready to acknowledge it, neither letting me do so."

"What would you do, huh? You're talking like you know everything about this! Oh no! You're the manipulator. Ain't you?" I whisper-yell at his face.

"Oh God! This girl!" He sighs out in frustration and runs his finger through his hair. "I'm trying to help here..."

"Oh please! I never asked for that. Why are you doing this anyway? Lending your coveted helping hand? I can't recall, when I asked for that," I lash out on him, as another shock runs through my spine. "Goddamn it!!"

I keep my voice low, so that it won't make a scene.

"Holy fuck!" he snaps back, placing his hand again on my back. "This is bad. This is bad." He traces his fingers along with my spine, inspecting, and then takes it back immediately.

He takes his schedule out of his backpack and scribbles away something furiously on the screen. I snatch it away from him and take a proper look at it. He's reporting a complaint of deliberate negligence to the higher authority. I discard that right away.

"Hey! Hey! What do you think you are doing? Give it back," he commands in a serious tone.

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask back, matching his tone, and keeping my voice as low as possible.

"I'm reporting," he replies honestly.

"How dare you do this without even asking me?"

"I don't need your consent or permission or whatsoever. I see a biased misunderstanding here, so as a sensible person unlike someone, I'm complaining 'bout this nonsense and here...I won't listen to you," he enunciates, his voice devoid of any emotion, his eyes rigid as the deepest filli.

I chuckle in disbelief. "Look, whoever you are, I don't care...Just stop whatever you are trying to do."

"Are you incapable of letting go of your inflated ego for one goddamn second, quark?"

As his words sinks in deep, I realize how much I'm going over the board. He is just trying to help me out. But I don't need it. I don't need his sympathy or pity.

But he's being honest here and I'm accusing him for no reason in particular, like a crazy person. I'm not thinking straight. Absolutely not thinking straight. The pain is doing something to me. I'm losing control over my emotions and actions perpetually. I'm, indeed, venting out my pain and anger for the unseen entity, who is doing this to me, for who knows what reason, on the only person who seems to be willing to help me. A perverted flirt, I may add.

I feel ashamed and I'm sure, a blush has already managed to pop up on my face.

"Hey! Stop calling me with those stupid names! I have a certain name. I hate it when people call me anything but my own name," I blurb out, unable to think of any proper reply after he caught me off guard and literally shut me up.

"Huh?" He looks confused, but soon catches on the point.

"Then tell me. Tell me your name," he whisper-yells.

"It's Elle. Elle carter," I reply in the same way.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. No need to to damage my auditory nerve or temporal lobe."

I chuckle in disbelief and throw him that look. "You are a big-headed jerk."

"I never denied," he replies nonchalantly, as it doesn't matter.

He takes back his schedule and resume where he left off. My eyes narrows and I snatch it right away.

"What I told you about.."

"Stop it, okay?" His tone serious. "They are overdoing it and I must report. It's Hepberg Volt, gives a shock near heart attack, but shows no exterior physical swelling or burn. It's the silent killer, more dangerous than a hungry shark, given the taste of blood for the first time."

As he explains, I just stare at him blankly, trying to think how in earth did he know that.

"Wait," I interrupt. He stops his ranting and look at me. Soon a wave of horror washes over him. He was quick to hide it, but not so quick to let it slide my eyes.

"How do you know all that?" I ask cautiously.

"Woa..wh..what?" He chuckles awkwardly, which increases my doubts even more. He's definitely hiding something.

"Hepberg volt. Leniendo-1000. Oh and overdoing something. Them and all these...How do you know that," I ask, my voice dangerously low.

He chuckles again, his eyes distant. He touches his ear as it turns red. I scoff at it mentally. He's gonna lie again.

"What are you...saying? Everybody knows that," he replies, looking at his surroundings, seeing everyone chuckling , talking or laughing at some old 90's jokes.

I chuckle out, and this time in frustration. I hate this fact that he's lying so compulsively.

"What ? You doesn't believe me?" He asks with the same smugness, that left his voice for a couple of moments.

"Has anybody ever told you that you're so damn annoying ?" I fire back,grimacing my face even more, deciding to let his lying pass.

"Yes, a lot. A lot...of times, I've lost count of. You never heard of, uh...teasing in the vaginal areas makes you have orgasm even more faster than any other part of..."

"Oh c'mon! Jesus!" I chuckle in disbelief, and looks away instinctively to hide the blush, I'm certain, forming on my face. "Why he is so blunt?" I mutter under my breath.

"Such a prude!" He remarks, chuckling and pinches the side of my cheek. My head whips back instantly and I slap his hand off my face, glaring him down viciously.

"I'm not," I seethe through my gritted teeth.

"Yes you are, quark." He throws his head back and chuckles hard. "You are cute, even when you are angry. You should see your face right now...priceless yet cute." He chuckles again. I sneak a look at our surrounding, see a few looking at our direction; some with surprise, some envy and others horror.

"Buzz off, speccy!" I whisper-yell on his face. He finally stops his chuckling, only to start it again, this time it turns into full-blown laughter.

Well, just my luck!

"At least don't swear, if you can't help," he exclaims.

"Shut it," I snap back. He only laughs harder.

"Okay so..um.." He straightens his back as he speaks, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes brightened, reflecting a bizarre warmth. "Shall we consider ourselves to be...." He looks at me as he pauses dramatically yet cautiously. "...Friends?"

I choke on my saliva and start to cough in no time. He pats my back, looking away. I try to take a good look at his face, to confirm what I heard, has truly came out of his mouth.

I chuckle lightly, he looks back, waiting for me to say something, looking somewhat serious.

"Friends," I states, like tasting the word on my tongue after a while. Nobody has asked me to be friends since for a while.

"Do you know the meaning?" I look back at him expectantly.

"Yes, I'm well aware," he assures with a small smile. "And I'm ready to accept all the pros and cons that come with this friendship, because I accept it, I accept you."

He sounds way too serious about this. To be honest, I don't know what to do bout this. I haven't befriended anyone since dad died and Eric left, without a single trace. Everyone I had ever loved, left me stranded in the middle of nowhere. Now even thinking about the word, gives me shudders.

"Says the one who ain't into literature," I scoff, trying to lighten up the air.

"Hey! That came out naturally," he protests, I make a pity face at him. "I may not be into literature, but I read some."

"Interesting!" I exclaim in sheer mock. I move a bit on my seat, the pain still intense.

"Really!" He scratches the back of his neck and looks at me from over his glasses.

"Wha..at? Why are you looking at me like that way?" I inquires with a flat tone.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Ahh! That! I'll think about it."

He gives me that look on this. "You girls can't give an answer in a simple way. You love abstract things."

"Huh?" I glare up at him, he shrugs that off and looks away. I scoff, which, of course, he returns so eagerly.

"Whatever," I butt in.

"Are you sure that...." He didn't get to finish what he was going to say, as our seats arrange up properly in a few arrays, facing the front of the room. All happened so fast that I didn't realize when the giant translucent screen lit up, showing a man's face, who is in his early thirties.

From the corner of the eyes, I see that the prick has straightened up himself, a seemingly stoniness has lined up his body, his eyes fixed the the front, a blank stare boring onto there.

The guy in the screen is fairly average in his looks, a scar descending down the corner of his lips, his black hair neatly side-parted to one side, his blue deep eyes rigid like death, while every single inch of his beige warm face exudes his royalty.

In the meantime, a pair of footsteps get prominent from behind. Dale walks past the aisle to get to the little platform right in front of us.

"Students!" Dale's deep voice cut in, so dominating that the silence there appears to be as deep as cold wintry morning. "Thank you for your patience. All the criteria, concerning your eligibility has been tested and the names have already been registered to the final record successfully."

"I hope, all your condolences may reach to those who couldn't make it through the Dark Room." As soon as those words left his mouth, a surge of whispers break through.

Amidst the little noise, a voice rises, startling all, even Dale himself.

" 'Couldn't make it'?...What do you mean by that?" I turn my head behind my back, trying to follow the one, whom the voice belongs to.

It was the same brunette from earlier, who feigns her giggles as cough. But the difference is, this time all her silliness has vented out in the thin air, instead a impertinent sternness has been replaced with her bubbly self.

In a friction of a moment, the scar-man's blue orbs take the darkest shade of the blue or black thereof. But he plays it off cool, as a small smirk forms at the corner of his lips.

Walking over to her quietly, Dale stops in front of her. She seems to in some sort of internal bargain as she looks down, but holds onto her field firmly.

"'Couldn't make it'...means they are dead," he speaks calmly, his voice dangerously low, a vile evilness comes off his dark figure, the whole room fills up with a few gasps and the girl looks straight into his eyes.

Instinctively, my fists ball up as they rest on my lap, I clench my jaws so painfully that it hurts as an unexpected intense pain crawls up inside me so naturally as it feels like so real.

From the corner of my eyes, I sneak a glace at the blond prick beside me. Just as I look, the same time his eyes also catch up with mine briefly. His eyes are filled with so much emotion that I can't pin down which one he's feeling now. I break away our gaze off and look at where the havoc has settled.

"They couldn't hold onto their lives in the Dark Room, because they were weak...and we have no room for the weaks." He looks at his surrounding, scrutinizing everyone with his narrow gaze.

"From now on, get this straight down inside your head. You be fragile, you die. You disobey, you die. You interrupt anything or anyone....then you are so dead," he threats calmly with venom dripping in each word.

I swallow this hard. A series of quiet gasps and gulps escapes from almost everyone rather in disbelief or fear. But only the blond prick beside me seems to be unfazed by this all, his face devoid of any emotion, a sternness covers him up making him look like a hard rock.

Dale walks back to his previous place, his hands behind his back, place neatly one upon the other. Clearing his throat, he faces the scar-man behind the large screen, with his gaze down and submissive.

"I'm sincerely sorry for the slight disturbance, you had to face just a minute ago." He raises his gaze. "But I assure you, professor, this won't happen again. I'll make sure of it."

"Granted," the scar-man i.e. the alleged professor replies, with a small frown in between his forehead.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Dale sighs deeply and turns back to face us.

"Students!" His voice echoes through the hall. "This is Dr. Hammond Ozic, your professor and the chief warden of our oncology department."

He looks back at the screen with his same rigidness, his hands in the same position like the prior.

"Professor! Meet them. This year's freshmen of sector-B, batch of 2239." The professor nods in acknowledgement.

Dale looks back to us, with what it seems like a suppressed fury. "Students?"

"Hello, professor!" The hall erupts in unison.

"So very nice to meet you, students," the professor replies with a smile, as if mocking us all.

"Now I will request you, professor, to choose a meaningful captain for our sector," Dale interjects cautiously with a flat, emotionless face. "So, shall we begin?"

"Certainly, Dale," the alleged professor confirms. As if on cue, Dale steps aside, giving us a proper view of the screen.

Professor Ozic clears his throat to get attention of all present there, his Adam's apple bobs up.

"Such a bunch of sincere apprentice! I'm looking forward to tutor such lovely students under my supervision.

I hope, you all will make it here till the end. Our system will help you to reach your goals, in return, all you have to do, is to be loyal to this academy. We won't stand any kind of treachery or plotting behind our back, cause we believe in terminating the incomplete retard embryo before it comes out to form a headache," he concludes darkly.

"That son of a..."

"...fucking bitch!"

I turn my head sideways in disbelief, as someone completes my unfinished muttering. It turns out to be the blond prick, who has gone completely dark, his hands fisted, jaws clenched, posture hard and it seems like he's fuming in utter fury inside.

"Now let's not waste time and go for the main event," the professor speaks as he types something on his screen-desk.

In no time, a strange tiny thing comes up from the middle of the screen, it's not real, but made up of hologram. It resembles a miniature robot, like a soccer ball, with a pot belly in the middle, which is rolling upside down in a different pattern, in between the head and the base. There's a small gap in the mid-belly.



"Let's proceed," the professor exclaims with sheer eagerness. He presses something on the screen as the belly of the hologram starts to roll rapidly, he clasps his hands, looking at the process intently, not blinking for a bit.

After a good couple of minutes, the motion starts to dissipate and then it finally comes to a halt, the mid-gap widens and a small blue card comes out of it. And most interestingly, the card comes out in real form, not as a screen or another window.

The professor types something on the screen and the hologram slides away. He collects the card and looks at it acutely, then hold it out to us so that we can also read it properly.

The has a very unique design, where the cornflower blue contrasts with the midnight blue in such an artistic way that it seems as if someone has dropped a droplet of intense color in the mid ocean. The shiny outlook of the card is this much majestic in its own way.

Then my gaze fell on the letters, erected in black and white in the middle of the card.

"Gray Jackson!" Professor Ozic announces the name. "Give this young man a round of applause, students!"

As if on cue, the entire hall breaks into claps and curiosity, to know who this alleged Gray Jackson is.

Dale assembles his hands together slowly and claps on reluctantly. I guess, it's the typical of him. On the other hand, the professor looks cheery as an invincible grin pops up, on his lips.

"Come up here, boy!" The professor exclaims.

Someone stands up beside me. I carefully turns my head sideways, my gaze falls on him, although he's already staring at me. Periodically, he turns his gaze to the front and walks out of our array slowly, his eyes fixed to the screen, visible discomfort and unwillingness marred on his face.

So the alleged Gray Jackson is none other than the blond prick, who was willing to befriend me and kept on lying till the end.

He walks up to where Dale is still standing. He speeds up his pace as he climbs up the steps and jogs over to Dale, and then turns sideways to look at the screen.

"Congratulations, Mr. Jackson! I hope, Matini  didn't make any mistake by choosing you. Now you have to make sure that you dedicate wholly to your duties and stay unbiased under all circumstances. Dale will fill you more further on your duties and responsibilities," the professor exclaims with merriment as a smile tugs up on his lips.

Dale hands Gray over an E-paper probably consisting of his obligations. He read it thoroughly, his eyes moving along the lines, while frowning consistently. He writes something on the paper, presumably a signature.

Next Dale gives him a round digital batch, the word, 'CAPTAIN', erected on it in golden. He takes it cautiously from Dale, looks at with such sort emotion which is hard to decipher, smiles with contempt, and then sticks it to the left front of his Blass, right upon where his ID is kept. His frown stretches as he sighs deeply, looking least happy about this.

He turns towards Dale and I can see a smirk forming on his face as he walks up to and shakes hands with him. Getting a bit closer than the usual, he whispers something to Dale, making him go still. Pulling back, Grey throws a sly smirk to Dale whereas he appears to be rather livid than blank, creating a dead air between them.

Gray moves backwards, looking at him, smiling with his usual charm and then finally descends down the platform, turning his back towards Dale. At that moment, the screen goes out and Dale starts talking on some basics that we have to get from our respective schedules.

As soon as he returns to his seat beside me, his face hardens. His hazel eyes start to get red sparks from the rim of the iris. In a short span of that moment, he looks at me, blinks twice and I don't know why it feels like as if he's in pain. He smiles at me softly, which I never return, rather turn my face away, only to intensify the awkward tension, hovering in the air. He probably looks away as well, cursing incoherently under his breath.

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Opening them and I turn my head and find him already looking at me, some unknown emotion fills the pool of his hazel eyes. It feels absolutely awkward. Definitely awkward!

Dale is certainly saying something, which I'm utterly failing to concentrate on.

To break that awkwardness between us, I clear my throat and look straight into his eyes and blink them once. He repeats after me. Shaking my head slightly, I tilt my head and glares at him with a scowl on my face.

He tilts his head on the opposite side, mimicking my actions and then breaks into chuckling, suppressing it as far as he can. I scoff at his silliness and looks to the front, where Dale is standing, in hope to interpret something that he's trying to say.

Right at that moment, a soul-tearing shock passes up my spine, making me gasp in pain. I clamp my mouth to stop myself from scream as a single tear escapes past my eye.

"So I'm quite appetizing , huh? Quark?" He whispers smugly from beside me.

Already the pain is too much to handle. On that, his absurd sarcasm provokes me further more. Maybe he's unaware or maybe not. However, I care less.

I groan audibly and then finally unleashes the budding rage within me. The unshed tears prickle my eyes, provoking to let go. But I guess, I am too stubborn to let that happen. I close my eyes instead.

"Can you give it a rest, for one goddamn moment? I'm so done with it!!!!" I exclaim so loud that I didn't realize that the entire hall fell silence, even Dale stops talking.

When I look up finally, I find Gray looking me with sheer concern. I blink back and gulp hard, and then look at my surrounding. Everyone's looking at me, including Dale, who has completely gone cold in a blink of the moment.

"Explain yourself!" Dale's cold voice startle me, making me stand instantly on my feet. He strides towards me, taking each step cautiously.

As he stands near me, his eyes flicks to my ID on left front of my Blass and then back on me.

"Didn't you hear me, Ms Carter?" His voice dangerously low.

"It wasn't intentional," I reply honestly and calmly.

"Enlighten please." He folds his arms, his eyes boring into me.

"It's the shock! I don't know why it only keeps running through..." I get cut off in the middle.

"Okay, stop! Save whatever story, you've made up this instant," he interjects, dismissing me completely. I look at him incredulously. He's so full of himself.

"We have no time to hear your useless nonsense. All we know that you dared to scream at your captain and for that, you must apologize."

I can't believe that this is happening to me right now. It's just unfair. Absolutely biased.

"Didn't you hear me, Ms Carter? Apologize to your captain," Dale repeats himself curtly, making me ball up my fists. "This instant."

I breathe deeply in surrender. "I'm sorry."

"Come again, Ms Carter," his voice now raises to the highest pitch.

I close my eyes and clench my jaws to stop myself from crying.

"I am truly sorry, Captain," I states louder than prior.

Nobody says anything for quite some time and I let the moment pass.

"Now, you all are dismissed. Get here tomorrow on the right time. I won't bear with tardiness and for that, useless excuses," he states coldly and then leaves the room.

The students start to get up to go about their business and I can hear a few whisper and hushed chatting. 

I bite hard on my inner cheek, collect my things quietly inside my backpack and then push past Gray, leaving no room for him to say anything further.

"Quark, wait," I hear faintly a familiar voice calling out for me. I decide to ignore it as well as everyone around me.

I don't wait for the Multi to be filled, instead go for the spiral wide glass stairs, that I used previously while coming to the 5th floor, and now to run down the moving steps. As soon as my feet hit the ground floor and the main door slides open for me, I push past everyone else and head out, with my head down.

©Shena