Chapter 7

Emeric sat against the wall of his cold cell, his knees drawn up to his chest, as hours slowly drew by. His mind wouldn't stop racing as he went over everything that had gone wrong, since the second he had seen the Elites for the first time till the moment he had been separated from his father.

He blamed himself for what had happened. He hadn't been good enough, he hadn't tried hard enough, and now his father was being executed...because he had failed when their only opportunity of escape had presented itself.

Emeric let out a pent up sigh of frustration as he stood up and started pacing the minute length of the cell.

Up and down he went, four steps one way, turn on his heal, four steps the other way...Hour after hour went by like this, but Emeric couldn't get rid of the frustration and hopelessness he was feeling.

He felt as if the walls were closing in on him...Like they were slowly busy caving in, preparing to crush him. He raked his fingers through his thick, black hair as he tried to relieve some of the tension that was building up in his muscles.

"Can you stop doing that? You're making me nervous." A voice came from the cell opposite Emeric's but the Rogue paid it no mind as he simply continued to pace up and down.

"What was I thinking, the beast doesn't understand me." The voice muttered.

This remark, however, made Emeric stop dead in his tracks.

"And why's that?" Emeric challenged with his back turned to the other cell, "Because I'm a Rogue, an animal? Because I'm not human?"

Silence met Emeric's play of words.

"I guess I was wrong..." The voice muttered again, although it sounded as if he was talking to himself, rather than another person.

As silence consumed the hallway once more, Emeric started pacing again. He needed to do something. His day's in the woods had been active from dawn till the evening came, being stuck in an acute cell was driving him mad.

"I'm serious..." The voice said again...Once again Emeric ignored it. "You should save your energy for the fights, don't waste it down here." Emeric slowly walked to the bars, "What do you mean fights?" He asked.

For the first time he stopped to take a look at the person who had been speaking to him. It was a man, he looked somewhere between his mid twenties and thirties. He had a rugged look about him, like someone who didn't care about their own dignity.

The man scoffed with a soft chuckle as he considered Emeric's question, "Don't you know where you are, kid?" Emeric shook his head, "No." He simply replied.

The man nodded, "It makes sense...Your kind are quite...primitive." Emeric took offense by the words, but he didn't let it show.

"You're at the Dome...Ever heard of it?" Emeric shook his head in reply as he sank back into a sitting position next to the bars.

"Each city has a Dome. It's their pride and it represents their power," he explained, "There are three rounds of fights in the rule...Executioners...Eliminators...and Victors. The Executioners round is basically where they dump the criminals of the city. They fight each other. It's an easy way to get rid of the bad guys and entertain blood thirsty crowds at once." The man paused to see if Emeric was following. Emeric gestured for him to continue as he swallowed down his nerves.

"The second round is for Domers from the Executioners' round who failed to...well, die. The Eliminators are put against each other to see if their are potential Victors among them. Victors are the pride of each city. The Victors determine which city is the strongest. Like I said before...The pride of each city."

Emeric was shocked by the brutality by which the Domes operated. They solely existed for people to be murdered for the entertainment of others.

"You my friend...You're officially part of the Executioners round now."

Emeric got to his feet again and paced up and down once more...but this time, there was more distress marking his face. "No, no, no... This can't be happening..." he clutched at his hair, trying to calm himself...but when he thought of what would be expected of him, he felt sick...

He was going to have to kill someone else if he wanted to survive. He was going to have to take another person's life.

His father's words came back to him, "You do what you must to survive, alright? Do whatever you have to." He paled as he realised what his father had meant. He understood why his dad had reacted the way he had when they were taking Emeric away. He had known that Emeric wouldn't kill and that he was being sent to a place that would rip him from everything he had believed in.

Emeric suddenly stopped and questioned, "What happens if you don't kill your opponent?" The man shrugged, "Don't know...never gave it a try before."

Emeric sickened as he realised he was talking to a murderer.

Emeric's pacing resumed.

His thought trailed back to his father. How he wished he had been able to save him...But he was wishing for the past to right itself...He was hoping for something that would never happen.

There was a loud clang as Emeric slammed his fist against the bars that locked him in.

*****

A day had passed...treacherously slow and frustratingly. Emeric sat in the farthest corner of his cell, knees drawn up to his chest.

A silent tear tracked its way down his face as he realised it was just past noon...His father had been executed....

The thought struck him with a truckload of emotions as uncontrollable tears started streaming down him face. He barley managed to keep his sobs inside.

How could this have happened to them? How could things have gone this wrong? Emeric desperately wiped away the tear tracks, but more tears just kept running down his face as he mourned the death of his father...The only other person he had ever known...The man who had raised him into who he was.

His father, who had given everything to protect Emeric, was dead...

He was gone forever...

Emeric clutched at his hair, desperately grabbing onto memories of the past. He remembered how his father had been there for him after his mother's death. How he had stroked Emeric's head each time he woke up from a nightmare, too afraid to go to sleep again. How Rayhan had always encouraged him through tough times. The support when Emeric was training. All those hours of investment.

Emeric had never really appreciated everything that his father had done for him. He wondered why it always turned out that you don't know what you have until it's gone...

*****

A whole uneventful week slowly slipped through Emeric's grip and all he did was pace up and down in his cell. Occasional meal had been provided, but the meals were neither sufficient nor pleasant. Barely edible.

Just like every day before, Emeric was pacing up and down in his cell. The man from the opposite cell had given up all attempts at halting Emeric's pacing. It was useless. Emeric shut out the world and as he paced, he relived memories in his head. It was all he had left. And so he clutched on to them with all his might."

For the first time since Emeric had been thrown into his cell, routine was broken as a guard walked down the cell hall and came to a stop in front of Emeric's cell. Emeric came to a halt at the back of his cell as he cautiously glanced at the guard.

The guard held up a key and got a smirk on his face, "You ready for the grave?" He questioned in a mocking tone of voice. Emeric paled and took a step back. The guard unlocked the gate and then got an evil smirk, "Oh yes...Time to go to the Dome."

The guard took in the cowering figure at the back of the cell...There was no way he would make it more than a few minutes in the Dome...

It was because he had underestimated Emeric that he never saw the attack coming...