Chapter 220

Delilah

The blade sliced through the air with a clean whistle.

Again.

And again.

Faster.

Harder.

I didn’t stop.

I did not plan on stopping. Not until I drained myself from all the energy that I had. Not until I allowed myself to remember why I was here. Not until I forced myself to breathe.

The sweat on my back soaked through the fabric of my shirt. My arms screamed with the strain, but I welcomed it, begged for it. Pain, at least, was something I could control. Pain, at least, was something that I remembered. Pain was a reminder of who I was. It was a reminder of what I was to become.

The punching post cracked slightly as I hit it one last time, letting my knuckles throb with the ache I refused to vocalize. I looked at my hands. Both my knuckles were bloody, but I did not care. I was not going to stop, not until I was satisfied.

This wasn’t about form anymore.

This was about surviving myself.

This was ab