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kali's six years old, and her little sister’s hand is too small to fit in her hand.
tiny, chubby fingers curl around her hand, palm warm as it pressed into hers. kali glances up from where this new little creature sat; this new person, who’d been toddled in beside her block puzzle and colouring sheets, wearing the same purple plaid uniform and an identical ink imprint on her wrist.
she’s staring up at her. big, brown eyes, sweet and soft, swimming in curiosity at this bigger girl. kali can’t get over how small she is. at how tightly she held onto her own hand, as if it were a lifeline. they’d simply been sitting here on the linoleum floor. kali was making a picture of a butterfly, pinching the nub of the purple crayon as it flew over the page. eleven, she was called, wasn’t making a drawing of anything in particular, just enjoying the smattering of colours as she smeared the wax tips over the white page.
those are some lovely pictures, you two.
the quiet, even tone came filtering into the room from above. both heads shot up, to the large glass window at the end of the room. it held the scientists in white coats behind it, their words muffled by the wall and scribbling things onto pages. it held one familiar man in the middle, with white hair. he looks right at them, lips tilted and expression unreadable.
kali stares right back at him. she knew he could see into the room, through the lenses that sat above their heads. she knew he was watching. her skin prickles underneath the scratchy, cloth uniform. she wants to run, knowing she could not.
and then, there’s a hand in hers.
and eleven is looking up at her. kali knows, papa is still watching, the distant voice still echoing.
letting them know, they were not safe.
but then, eleven grasps onto her. she is small and soft and doesn’t like the men who stare. but she knows kali is here. kali is bigger and taller, and they are the same, as read by the numbers forever written onto them.
the gnawing worry slips away. kali straightens herself up – and there, holding eleven’s hand, shuffles herself around, so she blocks both eleven and herself from the preying eyes behind the window.
when the men enter later and say that their time in the rainbow room is done for today, eleven tries to give her her scribble painting.
-
kali is eight years old, and her little sister’s hand is trembling in hers.
her whole body is shaking, partly hidden and peaking over kali’s shoulder. she’s crying faintly, the choked tears smeared onto the back of kali’s hospital gown.
kali does not cry. she does her all not to show any fear. she grips eleven’s hand in hers and shields the six-year-old’s body behind hers – a tiny opponent, in front of the hovering mass of men who raise black clubs above their heads.
papa was there, and he was upset. his arms were crossed. his tone was firm, and it was ice as he admonished them.
they shouldn’t have done that. they know that talking to each other wasn’t allowed.
kali knew that rule, and that’s why she took the risk to tell eleven things. things papa would never tell her. that there lived a world, outside of prison white walls. that the sky is blue and how it rains sometimes and on the outside, no one hits you so hard you spit up blood.
things, like the day in the rainbow room, when the door burst open and a woman who’s face was the same shape as her sister’s ran in. and called her jane.
you shouldn’t have been talking.
the whitesuits walk towards eleven and kali pushes her back, walks them back, fierce dark eyes on his. papa’s voice sharpens and then the men leap and kali tries, really tries, to hold onto eleven but they’re bigger, and through their screams, they rip their grasping hands from each other. eleven screams nonononono as one takes her out of the room, the other wrangling a seething kali who kicks and bites and fights. she knows she won’t win, but she makes sure he’ll walk way with scratches on his arms and spit in his eye before he folds her – before he holds her down by her legs and swings his club.
her scream bursts every one of the bulbs in the room.
-
she’s only an hour older and the orderly leading her back to her room grips onto her wrist too hard.
she’s seen him many times before. he’s been here a long time, it felt. he was the youngest out of any of the whitesuits, barring golden locks of hair and cold blue eyes. often, kali would catch him, eyeing her from the corner of the room.
her guides her back into the solitary, single room with it’s white tile and white sheets. she rips her arm from him before he can even lead her up onto the bed.
‘my my, you’re quite the little fighter..’
kali won’t look at him, bruised arms coiled around her stomach and glaring down at the floor. he’s suppose to leave but he doesn’t. rather he hovers, drawing closer to her.
‘...you’re acting reckless, number eight..’
her gaze shot up to his. the even tone had become strict, and the smile she could never quite pin down had disappeared, leaving a cold frown instead. her stomach churns.
‘..I can see into your thoughts, you know..’ he murmurs, low enough the mics in the room would have a hard time picking it up ‘you wish to run away. leave this place..and take that little eleven with you.’
kali’s heart picked up, panic ramming it into her chest. how did he know that?
‘but, you have shown too much, by protecting her. papa sees it, how you try to keep her from him. you think he will let this stand, let you be around her? it’s foolish; he is too powerful. but, maybe, I can help you both..’
kali stiffened. she furrowed her brow up at him, the lanky body hovering over her body. his words spoke good promises, but, as he eyed her, something deep in her said they were not true.
‘help escape?..’
‘just maybe..’ he leaned in, voice a mere whisper, quietly lit in excitement ‘if you help me, I can release you both, from under him..’
‘a-and the others too? save them?..’
kali didn’t know much about the others, had not held onto them as closely as she had eleven. but if they were going to finally be free, then it’s only fair they be given the same. none of them should be here.
he did not respond. rather, the cold eyes glanced away briefly, lingering in what he was clearly worried about telling her. her stomach churned again.
‘..not all of them are can be saved. not all of them, are worth saving.’ he says and already, kali does not understand ‘I see what you have. you, the illusionist, and with that kind of fight, and eleven’s potential...with you both, we can escape. the others..too weak, will have to be left behind..”
‘..but, why – they need help, papa hurts them and –’
his hand snaps around her wrist again, skin dead cold, and this time he squeezes.
‘do not try and defy me on this!’ he hisses, only becoming more manic in his expression ‘you are just a child, you don’t understand, and should not pity those not as strong as you – everyone, in the end, will receive what they deserve, including all your siblings. now, you’d be wise to accept my help unless you would like to die here as well, because there is no way you’re leaving without it..’
kali is only eight years old and the fangs he spits his words around scare her – frighten her, but not as much as they anger her. her gasp turns into a snarl and before he can pull away, she sinks her teeth into his finger. he yelps and springs back, pulsing fingers curling into his palm and seething.
and kali seethes right back, powerful brown eyes holding up his own.
‘I will never help you.’ she spits, a promise ‘and I will find a way out, without you.’
she expects him to lunge. to attack. he breaths heavy, glare dripping hatred – but he makes no movements. he only takes in a breath, straightening himself up and zeroing in on her.
‘...papa is right – a very stubborn girl..’ he murmurs, dropping a chill into the room ‘..you should be careful number eight, in being so ready to decide who to make your enemies..’
he leaves, as simple as that. kali is locked in her room the rest of the day, until the clock rings bedtime, and she can hear who’s dropping eleven off into her room – it’s the same, skin-crawling tone.
why can’t I go see eight?
now eleven, it’s just as papa told you remember? eight is dangerous and she will hurt you. she can’t be around you or anyone, you understand?
yes.
when kali goes into the rainbow room next, eleven is gone.
-
kali is nine years old, and she isn’t holding anyone’s hand when she stumbles into grass for the first time in years.
she’s bloody all down her front, smeared under her nose and over her lips. she scrambles out under the night sky, nails digging into the dirt to pull her up and bare feet stumbling. she’d just barely made it; disguised herself well enough, faked enough illusions so that the workers and whitesuits never saw the slip from the corner of their vision.
but she’d made it out the confining walls. she’d made it.
and she had to do it alone.
she had to give up the idea of being the one to free them both. of getting to be the one to save her.
instead, as kali starts to hear the blaring sirens wail out and the white search lights beam out into the dark, she has to swallow her tears and forget the image of the little face, of innocent eyes and a deep trust that gripped onto her hand.
and run, whispering I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
-
kali is ten years old, when the only mother she knows folds her small hands into her own and says even without the same blood, she can be her own. she is ten, when the only father she knows brings her hand up his cheek where she can feel the stubble, and kisses the palm with a smile. she gets to be eleven, even twelve, with a kind mother who grips her hand during nightmares and slides her the dessert spoon as a treat, and a father who will take her by the fingers and spin her around till she’s dizzy on her laughter and help her bandage the knuckles when she scrapes them.
she almost gets to be thirteen, when her mother stands over her father’s bloody body and pushes her out the backdoor, tearfully pulling her hand out of her daughter’s so she can take the bullet from the white-haired man’s gun instead.
-
kali is fifteen years old, and the gun is a little big in her hand.
it’s her first time really using it. well, she’d been prepped before. taught how to use it, how to aim, load & unload.
but it’ll be the first time letting the bullet out of the barrel.
it’s heavy in her palm. it’s cold steel, pressing against her skin. a muted power, as she had – kept sheathed, until pressed too hard.
eight is dangerous.
it’s their first house, their first name. kali had held the old ID badge with it’s chewed plastic edges in her hand as a quiet, electric spark goes off, recognizing the face as a suit that used to beat her legs until she couldn’t get up off the ground. I know this one.
funshine puts a steady hand on her back, you ready? kali takes in a breath, cleansing. she sticks the barrel under belt, tugging her jacket over. she was.
she’s the first to enter after they knock the door down and secure the place. funshine gets a few hits in until he’s disarmed enough, where axel ties him to his chair, all part of the discussed plan. they all step back as kali steps up to the chair.
eight is dangerous.
he’s begging for them to be merciful, to take whatever they want. but kali says nothing and simply stands in front of him – over him, like she never got to be. her hand shakes as she grips the edge of her mask, slipping it off. her chest heaves and her seething gaze bores into him, takes in every flinch of fear. finally, she raises her wrist to the light and the realization that falls on him came much closer to horror.
but it’s too late. kali’s grasped the gun in her hand and time slows as she raises it to his forehead. holding the weapon over him. it didn’t feel too big anymore.
she’s no longer the one scared. no longer the one without control. her blood burns in her veins. she’s alight.
they called her monstrous to alienate her. now they quiver at her feet.
no longer the victim. now the weapon.
and she will hurt you.
kali is fifteen, when by her own hand, she sends a bullet flying from a steel barrel.
-
kali is sixteen years old, when she gets to hold her sister’s hand in hers again.
she’s a little miracle, sitting in kali’s bed, covered in wild brown curls and tattered blankets. she’s different now, has seen more then she should so young. but those big, brown eyes are the same, soft and still innocent in a way. she grips kali’s hand in her own and squeezes as the older girl quietly cries that she feels whole.
she’s in her life again, and for the first time in a long time, kali is given a whole other purpose then lighting a blaze of violence.
but kali is also sixteen, when her sister yanks her hand out of hers.
jane, get in!
I can’t. I have to go.
kali doesn’t understand and tries to get her inside, to safety, back to her and their freedom like how it should’ve been from the very beginning – when suddenly the small, warm palms takes a single tug and slips out her grasp like nothing.
she screams but mick yanks her back in by the waist, slamming the door, bullets scattering and her friends yelling over each other, just managing to escape the ambush by the skin of their teeth.
kali can’t hear them. her eyes linger out the window where she watched jane’s small figure disappear into the dark alley. this time, away from her. kali’s breathing heavy and not understanding why she can feel warm tears rushing down her cheeks.
eight is dangerous and she will hurt you.
kali looked down to her empty palm. all of a sudden all she can think about is the look of gasping terror jane wore running out of ray’s house, the globs of tears that fell down when she made her sister stare down the man who abused them over and over.
kali stares tearfully down at her empty hands, and finally, starts to see the trails of blood running down.
-
kali is eighteen years old, the first time she ever drops a weapon out of her hand.
she’s never done that before. she’s perfected this. she knows how to keep steady, how to wrap her fingers around just right. she’s had a lot of practice.
somehow though, it’s over an ordinary night that for the first time, her soul shakes so deeply her grip disappears. funshine calls her downstairs because they’d found these four boys snooping around where they shouldn’t – snooping, and asking for her.
upon first look, they’re a bizarre combination. there’s one with long hair and far too easy of a glaze over his eyes with the knife axel is waving around him, a younger boy with dark hair and lanky limbs, and two others who she could clearly see must be brothers. the older one gently holds his arm out in front of the younger, and it causes a sour tug in kali’s throat.
they say they came to find her, that they need her help. kali keeps herself cloaked, fiddles with her well-worn pocketknife between her fingers, says she doesn’t know who they talked to but she doesn’t do directed hits and to get the hell out of here while they can. the one with dark hair is stubborn, and takes a step forward.
it’s not for us! it..it’s for el. she’s in trouble. and she needs your help.
kali stops before she completely walks away, not understanding.
el?...
el. eleven.
kali’s whole body freezes and the pocketknife clatters to the ground.
..jane?
-
kali’s eighteen years old, and she’s holding her sister’s life in her hands.
she’s been through more in the last twenty-four hours then she can honestly comprehend. things have been more then shaken with the knowledge that other dimensions live just under her feet, that monsters hungry for their blood lurk inside. and the one they’re all up against – her sister and this rag-tag group of friends she’s gained – is to be the most dangerous yet.
perhaps the thing she was truly not expecting, was the fact that she had once known this monster.
kali stands there, bloody all down her nose and teeth grit together. the sky is dripping red and blood squelches under her feet, a line-up of haunting bodies all twisted up lay around her. terror screams through her, and she digs her boots in deeper.
and he, hovers just a few feet in front of her.
‘number eight..’
the dark, growling tone echos around her, a sick delight in it from recognizing her. kali takes in a breath. steadies herself, and thinks of jane, who is safe with her friends right now as they prepare for the final blow, and who needs her to finish this if she has any chance of killing him.
‘my my, how you’ve grown. you’d escaped from me too soon, but there’s no chance of that here – now, I’ll get to take that final missing piece..’
she thinks of jane, and the little hand gripping onto hers tight, the warm palm soaking into hers. trusting her.
they had told her, how few their chances were. one small spec in a hurricane, and the blood they’ll loose, she has to be warned, could be hers. but kali didn’t fear the power of this monster, of this vecna creature, when she knew her sister was on the line. she may be small here, shielding jane from his claws as much as she can.
she was small then, when she shielded her sister with nothing but sharp teeth from papa’s outstretched claws.
‘now you’ll truly see, the mistake you made at making me an enemy..’
kali breaths out. she raises her head and her hand, fingers tightening into a fist and feeling her power surge – and meets the hateful gaze as she had ten years ago.
‘I would say the same thing for you.’
-
kali is now twelve years older then that day of being six, and her little sister’s hand isn’t too big for hers anymore.
it was the exhausted, quiet relief of a night after the last, final battle came out victorious. they’ve got too many people stuffed in an old, and what looked like ransacked kali thought, cabin. mattresses and blankets lay strewn around, whatever lamps they found still working lit, slumbering bodies and hushed words.
jane lay on the couch, on her back with her head propped up, and that’s where all the kids had gathered. the boy with the dark hair sat closest, her legs dangling over his lap as he slept, and the boy named will sat on the far side beside him. the young redhead and the boy who’s hand she kept in hers sat up in front of the couch, also sleeping, and the final one, fuzzy hair and a lisp, was strewn over the floor nearby.
it was a lot of love near her, and protecting her. kali felt a lump of guilt strike her throat.
kali tiredly knelt near jane’s head, quiet in her movements. she couldn’t keep from staring at the girl, slumbering peacefully. how grown she’d become, the shape of her face as it’d changed. she faintly slides her hand down jane’s arm, fingers gingerly skimming over her hand, hovering, and then gently sliding her fingers underneath to connect them.
it fit now.
kali continued to watch her silently slumber. so much of this difficult life she’d had, she’s had to do it on her own, even with these friends by her side. so much hardship, she had to endure with tears and cuts.
after kali wasn’t there to protect her. protect her, and even, been the one to hurt her.
all at once, a violent burst of tears came over her. kali ducked her head down to hide the hot tears sliding down, buried into the couch and her sister as her forehead rested into her arm. kali heaves quietly, kept it hidden, as everything began to crash with the slur of I’msorryI’msorry tumbling out without restraint.
suddenly the sleeping body jolted against her, jane gasping with wide eyes – and the hand laying over hers grasped on.
a nightmare. kali quickly grasped jane’s arm from where she’d been knocked back, trying to settle her back.
‘it-it’s okay, it’s safe,’ she stumbled out, jane breathing in broken gasps as she whipped her eyes around, finding the older girl ‘it was just a dream. you’re safe..’
‘kali..’ jane whispered, fear slipping away once she saw the face, settling back into the couch ‘y-you’re here..’
‘yes.’ kali swallowed tightly ‘I’m here..’
jane stared back at her, seeming to just take her in. like she was re-committing her sister to memory. kali sinks into the big browns, a warm familiarity that makes her throat even tighter.
they were the same eyes, even from four years old. they always would be.
then, kali thinks, jane must’ve noticed the two palms pressed together – for in the next second, the once-smaller hand tightens around hers. gentle and sure, she cradled kali’s hand there in her own.
‘you’ll...you’ll stay right?..’
kali wants to say that the sky could fall in and she won’t leave. she wants her to know that that man, the horrible man who deeply scared them and called it love, could walk right in and she’d make it a dying pledge that he’d never land a hand on her again.
but that was all a lot to say and kali knows, she has apologizing to do first. right now, she blinks back and feels another sweep of tears run down.
offers her sister the first real smile she’s given in a long time and squeezes her hand back.
‘yes. I will stay.’