Chapter 82 (2/2)

After fumbling for a second, Alana produced a small mirror. For several long seconds, Raina looked at herself. Then she began to laugh.

It was a low chuckle at first, but then it twisted, and grew dark.

“Plain… he said I was….” She muttered to herself, which set off another fit of giggles. What she wouldn’t do to be plain right now…

“Cassie, do you still have that embroidered mask that he made?” Raina asked.

Cassie nodded quickly, then ran, grabbing it and bringing it back.

“So now-” Alana said, her eyes narrowed.

“Now we fight,” Raina said, a small, smouldering coal of hatred burning in her heart. Although that man had hated thinking that a skill had affected him, drawing him to her, he was very clear on one fact.

When she had smiled at him, he had liked it. And now that was gone. Raina wondered whether he would accept her now, but set that aside. First, she needed to survive. And she only had one path for that; her music.

She took the mic offered to her by a trembling crew member, his gaze on the ground. Ignoring the looks, and the not looks by the crew who had seen her disfigurement, Raina put the mask on and walked out onto the stage. The crowd cheered, raggedly and filled with desperation. She could see from the stage quite a few couples having sex, right there in public, driven by their fear and panic.

She pitied them.

But she pitied them more for what was about to happen.

Raina raised the mic and spoke, a single word, singing it softly, crooning it to fill it with as much of her skill as she could.

“Fight.”

She did not bother with lyrics, or any of her songs, or any tune. She didn’t wait for the band to come out. She just felt the hot rage inside of her, and used her persuasive skill to give it a vicious and desperate voice.

“Fight.”

She sang for every friend or acquaintance that was probably now dead, killed by monsters. For every hollow eyed fan who now crowded her concerts, starving themselves in this city in order to afford the ticket. For her dream of being a successful singer finally coming true, but everything about it all feeling so wrong.

“Fight.”

She raised her voice, stressing the word now, dragging it out, adding more musical flair to her imperative.

People in the crowd were stilling as she sang, a glassy look appearing in some of their eyes. They breathed and moved as one, slowly aligning with her.

“Fight.”

She heard them mouth the word, but knew it was not enough. Stepping forward, she moved to the edge of the stage, standing right above them, her arms raised to the sky.

“Fight, Fight, Fight.”

Slowly, they joined, their chant following hers, their eyes slowly narrowing and turning red.

“FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.”

She was shouting now, clutching the mic with white fingers, hating the monsters, but loving them too. They had crushed her old life, but gave her this brief month of being on top of the social circle, even if she was nothing more than a glorified mouthpiece. No matter how twisted it was, at least she was loved.

The system had given her a skill that made even that stoic boy struggle to resist her smile. And just as quickly, the system had taken it away. Leaving her with scar tissue. For that, at the moment, she wanted to bring it all crashing down. And so she sang, howling her dissatisfaction.

“FIGHT.”

Raina continued to shout, yelling her call to action, her skill imbued voice echoing over most of the town, but some people were already insensible at this point. Vicious, their vision tinged red, they turned and stumbled outward, picking up trash and furniture, gathering weapons.

When they found monsters, they threw themselves at them with wild abandon, not caring for their lives. Because they heard a beautiful voice, and it told them one thing: Fight.

Men and woman attacked each other in their haste to find and kill a monster. They surged outward, the weaker among them losing their feet and being swiftly trampled. But the crowd cared not. They were scared, weak people, and Raina had given them something to cling to. In her strange magic, they found strength.

Not their own strength, but the strength of a vicious, hungry, mindless mob.