Chapter 5

                                    

                                          



"SECOND ROUND OF FIGHTS will take place today. At the end of the day your ranking will be posted. Since we have an uneven amount of people, and one of you did not fight last time," Four's eyes subconsciously shifted over to Tris, "it has been decided that one of you will fight twice. Unless that said person loses their first fight."
Looking at the chalkboard, Storm's eyebrow quirked up in amusement. She would be fighting twice. A sly smirk danced across her features. She didn't care who made that decision, but she was glad she got to show off her skills twice. This would hopefully improve her ranking and overshadow her supposed shortcomings in the shooting area. 
On the other hand, Ember was terrified. Of course, Storm would be her opponent. She gently rubbed her bruised jaw from the other day. There was zero chance of her winning the fight. Even if Storm held back, (which she wouldn't), Ember still couldn't think of an outcome where she would be victorious. 
Storm's sharp gaze traveled down the chalkboard in search of her second opponent. 
Edward's name was featured right next to hers. Her confidence could not be shaken even by the strongest initiate in the group. He trained to fight, she trained to kill. He may be knowledgeable in martial arts, but his skills were no match for hers. 
By the age of 12 she was able to take on 2 grown men by herself. 
That feat did not come easily and she would be damned if she let Edward of all people take that away from her. 
The fight's went on and on. The blood stains on the mat increased to the point where it was unmistakable. There were very few fights where the winner was not already predicted in Storm's mind. Each fight either lasted forever, or was over in 20 seconds. 
For example, Peter versus Tris. Fairness completely went out the window in that fight. That battle made Storm realize that there was no sense of justice in dauntless. They took "only the strongest will survive" to the extreme. 
"Storm and Ember," Four called out, "in the ring."
The fight between them was almost poetic. A storm vs an ember. Two polar opposites metaphorically, physically, and internally. It was an amazing sight. Ember: talkative, bright, rosy cheeks, painted with freckles, blazing red hair. Storm: aloof, cutthroat, deadly pale skin, scars dragged across her body, hair dark as an abyss. 
"Begin."
Storm was careful not to underestimate her opponent. Ember was clever, it was important to acknowledge that. For a moment they danced around each other, but Storm ended up making the first move. She drove her foot through the side of Ember's face, immediately sending her to the ground. Ember expected a punch and was unpleasantly surprised. 
The rest of the fight was Storm's game. Every now and then she would let Ember land a weak punch, but she received double in return. Storm showed no mercy to the only girl that dared to try and be her friend. 
The thing about Ember was she was determined. She was not going to give up, even if that meant being knocked out cold. 
After another minute, the fight was over and Ember lifelessly laid there. Her face was covered in newfound brusies that wouldn't be going away any time soon. 
Storm stood there with a sinful smirk, blood dripping from her hands. 
Something in Storm's heart began to brew as she stared at her somewhat-friend's body. It was like someone had a knife to her heart and slashed it. Her smirk rapidly faded. 
Guilt. But there was no time to feel guilty, no time to dwell. She forced herself to look away as she stepped out of the ring. She was doing exactly what the monsters from her past wanted her to do. She hated herself with her entire body and soul because of that.