Page 97 of Call of the Fathoms

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, starting to circle the other woman. “They want us to kill each other, but we can both get out of here alive.”

The eighth version of herself pointed up. “They’re filming everything. You know even saying something so stupid is a bad idea.”

Sure, they were filming. Who cared? She was going to be out of this room before any of this footage got out. “You really don’t want to fight me,” she replied, ignoring the warning about the cameras. “You may have been training to serve Harlow, but I have lived far more than you.”

“They made me better than you for a reason.”

“They made you numb. Emotions are nothing to be feared. They are to be embraced.”

They circled each other, all while the eighth version rolled up her sleeves like that was going to help her fight. All it took was a twitch of muscle, and Alexia reacted. The two of them lunged for each other.

They came together in a clash of power and weight. She knew this version of herself would have more muscles than she did, but Alexia was now wiry and strong from swimming. She also had the added advantage of something to fight for, which this other version did not have.

Grappling with the bigger woman, she managed to get her in a headlock. “Listen to me, they have done something terrible to you. You need to snap out of it. The drugs in your system can be bested.”

“You need to die.” The eighth reached back over her head, grabbed a handful of Alexia’s shirt, and dragged her over her shoulder.

She hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her, but she had to move or be killed. Rolling, she just barely blocked herself from a boot to the ribs.

Alexia stood, making sure to shake out her hands before she landed a punch square in the face of the other woman. The punch made her hand ache, but it felt good to do it. So she did it again, and again.

But then her hand was caught on the fourth strike, and the eighth yanked her in close enough to wrap her arms around her. She squeezed so hard it became hard to breathe.

The eighth was breathing hard, but ground out, “You are an anomaly. They are fixing the problem with me.”

“Yeah,” she wheezed. “I never did anything they wanted me to do.”

And then she head butted herself.

Fuck, that hurt. The hard front of her skull connected with the eighth’s nose, and it cracked immediately upon impact. Shefelt it break against her skull, and damn, it felt good to do. The eighth reeled back from her, blinded momentarily by pain and blood that gushed out of her nose.

A perfect opportunity. Alexia might have waited before, pride in her own fighting skill giving her opponent a chance to collect themselves.

But she wasn’t going to do that. Not when everyone’s lives were on the line.

Sweeping out her leg, she took the other Alexia onto the ground and crawled on top of her. Like Fortis had done to her so many times, Alexia locked her limbs around the other woman. Keeping the eighth’s arms pinned with her strong legs, she wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck tightly.

“As you die,” she snarled, struggling to keep her grip, but managing to pin the other woman. “I need you to know this. You are capable of far more than they tell you. You are strong, able to do whatever you want to do. Your emotions were never meant to be taken from you. They did that, and I will exact revenge for all of us. For every version they are still growing, and all the ones who came before us. They will die for what they have done.”

Finally, the last wheeze rattled out of the eighth Alexia’s lungs. She kept her hold for a few minutes more, making certain this version was dead. And for good measure, Alexia then snapped her neck.

“That feels so wrong to do,” she muttered as she finally released the dead body. It flopped away from her, and she stared down at her own dead body while telling herself that this was fine.

She knew she was going to have to kill people. She’d killed many other people before.

She just... had never killed herself. Or a version of herself. Or was this woman even her? They’d had completely differentexperiences throughout their entire life, so this really wasn’t her at all. It was just a stranger who wore her face.

“Still weird,” she muttered before reaching for her shirt and yanking it over her head.

Alexia made quick work of her pants too, tugging all the fabric off before she started stripping the dead body. All the while, she muttered apologies. “Really sorry about this. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, but... well. Duty calls. If anyone could understand that, it would be you.”

Somehow, staring down at a nude dead body that looked exactly like hers was even worse. And dressing one? That was particularly awful. She never wanted to do this again. Not in her life. This was wrong. So wrong.

“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you. You’re dead,” she muttered as she yanked pants on over the eighth Alexia’s legs. “But being in a room with a dead body that looks an awful lot like yourself is really, really terrible. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” She hesitated. “Or are you my worst enemy?”

Alexia shook her head and finished swapping their clothes.

“I’m really losing it. First Fortis, now you, and then the rest of the sea. I just have to figure out what to do next.” Straightening, she smoothed her hands down the blazer and then started buttoning it.

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