Knife throwing was easy for you, you don’t know why, but you always knew how to throw the blade. The speed, the aim, the way to hold the blade. It all came naturally to you. You threw your last blade and watched how it sunk into the mannequin’s head next to the previous seven.
Looking around you noticed everyone still had three or four knives left, you let out a sigh and looked at Eric, hoping that maybe you’d be let out early for good behavior. The two of you locked eyes, he looked to your target then back to you, and shook his head. You groaned and went to pick your knives out of the target.
Peter’s eyes were trained on you, he hated how good you were at this–especially since it was something he wasn’t perfect at. It didn’t matter that he was above you in rank, he couldn’t stand being second at anything. He glanced at your mannequin and the sight of each knife perfectly embedded in your target only furthered his anger. His target was right next to you, he figured if he played his cards right it everyone would think it was an accident–at least anyone that mattered.
He took a deep breath and threw his knife. You let out a scream at the sudden searing pain in your right hand. You hissed and looked at your hand; you were pinned to the wooden mannequin by your right palm, the silver blade was buried in your palm to the hilt, dark red liquid flowed freely down your arm. You were breathing hard and trying to take deep breaths to compose yourself.
You grabbed hold of the hilt and hissed as you quickly pulled the knife out from your hand. You turned around and noticed you held everyone’s attention. You looked around trying to find who’s knife you were holding. Peter was glaring at you, his eyes cold and hard. From the corner of your eye you noticed Eric rushing towards you, knowing what your next move was. You growled and ran at Peter. You pounced on him and the two of you rolled around on the ground each of you trying to gain the upper hand.
You straddled him and held the bloody knife to his neck. “Give me one reason not to litter the ground with your blood.” You said harshly. Before Peter could say anything you were pulled off of him by Eric who had had to fight the crowd to Dauntless initiates surrounding you and Peter to grab ahold of you.
“Let me go.” You growled as you tried to fight against Eric’s grip, but it was no use–he had his arms wrapped over yours pinning them to your sides. “Let me kill him.” Eric didn’t respond. Instead he handed you over to Four who gripped you just as tightly–if not tighter–and ordered him to take you to the infirmary.
“What happened?” Eric asked Peter harshly. “It slipped.” Peter said trying to sound innocent. “So it was an accident?” Eric asked keeping a blank face. Peter nodded thinking for one second that he might get away with it, because it happened when he stabbed Edward in the eye so why not now?
“Stand in front of the target.” Eric ordered. Peter felt fear grip him. “What?” He asked thinking that for a moment he’d misheard his leader. “Stand in front of the target.” Eric repeated still blank. Peter nodded and walked to the target not wanting to show how scared he actually felt. “You’re higher up on the rank than (y/n) is. (y/n) let out one scream, one. You let out more than that and you’re going straight to the bottom of the ranks.” Eric said.
“I still don’t understand, what’s going to-” Peter was about to scream before he slapped his hand over his mouth to keep silent. He was breathing heavily as he glanced down at his leg which had his knife sticking out of it. He went to try and pull the knife out. “No, leave it in. We’re not done here.” Eric said as he picked up another knife. Peter stood up firmly trying to keep as still as possible. Eric threw out another knife this one embedding itself in Peter’s other thigh. Peter hissed out, but before he had time to recover Eric picked up another knife and aimed it at Peter’s shoulder. Peter screamed; the pain coming in too quick for him to be able to handle. Eric smirked.
“Congratulations Peter, you’re last in ranking. Now get out of my sight, coward.” He said harshly. Peter pulled the blades out and made his way to the infirmary.
“He likes you, you know that right?” Four told you once you were in the medical ward. “What?” You asked confused. You’d calmed down when you realized that Four wasn’t going to let you go back, and you figured that you’d be able to kill Peter later.
“Eric, he’s got a thing for you.” Four said making you blush. “You’re mental.” You said rolling your eyes. “And by the looks of it you’ve got a thing for him too.” Four said with a smirk.
“Shut up.” You said as the nurse came back with gauze for your hand. “That’s the best you can do?” He asked smiling slightly. “No. You’ve got a thing for Tris.” You said smirking when he glanced to his feet. “Don’t tell her I’m going to do it on my own terms.” He said simply. “Sure, just as long as you stop spreading rumors about me and Eric.” You barginned.
At that moment Peter walked in covered in his own blood, the nurse quickly tied your bandages and ran to him. “Fifteen credits says that was Eric’s doing.” Four whispered you rolled your eyes and kicked him in the shin.
“Those who blamed aggression formed Amity, Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite, Those who blamed duplicity created Candor, Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation, And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.”