Page 51 of Viparious

The fuckers who volunteered for this shit sit at attention and I walk to the hollow support to give pipsqueak an advantage. The metal dents as I slam my fist into the side, opening the compartment we use for the fights to retrieve a knife. She climbs over the mesh wall and drops down to her feet, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her brows go up as I throw her the knife, and she catches it in midair. Looking at the clean blade then to me, she shrugs and talks to herself, “Huh, this will be fun.”

Everyone takes three steps back as I charge her and take her legs out. There’s no sting as she twists her body and manages to slice my shoulder. The mesh holds her in place, and I aim my fist at her ribs, but she’s fast and counteracts my movements. It stops me shutting it out with having to be aware of her movements and she wraps her arm around my neck as she pushes her feet flat against the caged wall to gain leverage. The knife doesn’t touch my skin and I can feel her bones move under the force of my fist. Her knee does the same against my chest and she makes a long, shallow cut down the length of my back.

She manages to gain enough distance to throw her head into mine and I smile as my brow splits. The warmth of the blood drips down against my lashes and I take a step back to allow her space to do it again. She drops down to her feet and pushes into the cage to launch at me with her fist raised. My own comes up, getting her in the cheek as she connects with my jaw hard enough to turn my head and she falls back from the force of my knuckles colliding with her face.

There’s a slight pause, her anger coming out, making the fight exactly what I need. The blow to the head fucks with my vision because she has two irises in one eyeball. Until I blink, and they return to their usual soulless, hollow color. Pipsqueak tucks the knife against her forearm, and I smile wider. Everything else has drowned out because my body is only focused on the bitch in front of me and demolishing her.

A shout pierces the air as she takes a step forward.

“Get the fuck out, I’ll fight him.”

Vitali looks at me with disgust and pulls his t-shirt over his head as the others are led away. Dima will be caging them or setting them free, but I don’t focus on that with pipsqueak’s outburst. Ana rages and looks two seconds away from throwing the knife at me.

“What the fuck?! No. That’s not fair when I’m already in here.”

He loses his puppy-like happiness and hardens his voice as he pins her in place with a look.

“Ana. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Or I will drag you out. This is a family thing, leave.”

She throws the knife at the wall and cracks the concrete with her rage as I hold myself rigid, knowing I can’t use my full force.

He doesn’t swap places with her until the metal door clangs, echoing through the space to show she’s left. He still favors his uninjured leg in the mornings, so I can’t hurt him. Dima frowns as he comes back in and sees Vitali make his way forward, but I say, “He’ll be safe.”

No one will see my weaknesses, it doesn’t matter how close they are. I wait for Dima to leave as my brother removes his jeans.

As soon as the door bangs shut for the second time, he steps into the cage. He strikes out and opens his mouth with every attempted blow.

“Why are you ignoring your kid?”

I maintain a defensive stance, so I don’t hurt the child I promised to protect, but I want to rip his tongue out instead. All he has to do is shut the fuck up, but he continues while I remind myself that he’s my brother.

“Is it because she’s a girl? Like Len? Some sexist bullshit where you’ll act like she’s not good enough because she doesn’t have a certain chromosome?”

He falls on his ass when I kick into his ankle. But he stops running his mouth.

Telling him the truth isn’t an option. The truth is never good for anything other than proving I’m worse than the rumors. I can’t tell him that getting attached to any child will be useless. Or I’d be forced to explain why they’ll grow up without me and that it would be cruel to make them feel abandoned like I have with their mother. There’s no way to make him understand that this is the lesser evil without it crumbling my life.

So, I don’t.

He doesn’t fight me as I hold out my bloody hand to help him up, and he attempts to start another therapy session.

“I don’t get you, at all. You literally wiped all of our asses, showed Val how to raise Vik, but you’re acting like your own kid doesn’t exist.”

Grabbing his throat with less force than required, I ignore every word he’s said and focus on what I know.

“You need to start training again. Your reflexes are too slow.”

Something has infected my family that they all need to fucking talk about emotions, and he knocks my arm away.

“No, you’re my brother, so I’m not fighting you to hurt you. It’s not my reflexes, like you aren’t tired but you’re not using your full force on me.” He punches into my ribs and doesn’t shut his mouth. “Inessa went to the appointments by herself. We had to just force our way in because she wouldn’t tell us shit. Do you even give a fuck that she’s spent nights crying herself to sleep?”

Shaking his head when I don’t answer, he gives up on the need to try to get through to me.

I’m the fucking eldest, the one who they’ve always come to. It’s not supposed to be the other way around. I spent the first ten years of my life as the only child and main fucking breadwinner of the house. It took another five for Val to be anything but a bumbling toddler. These kids aren’t supposed to offer me advice or help. I drop my hold on him, knowing I won’t be able to expel any violence, and he deflates.

They’re still children. I may have been a child when they were born in terms of the number of years I’d spent on earth, but I was the only adult in the house. I didn’t have a fucking childhood to be able to relate to any of them.

Vitali doesn’t leave and he threads his fingers behind his head as he says, “I have a theory.”

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