by LP Lovell
“For what?”
He pushes me back and looks at my face. “To become strong.”
5
“The trust of the innocent is the liars most useful tool.” - Stephen King
Nicholai walks ahead of me, striding down the grey concrete corridors. I don’t see anyone else here, and it makes me jumpy. The echo of our footsteps has me glancing around nervously. Eventually he stops outside a door and turns to face me, a smile on his face.
“You have five minutes. There are fresh clothes for you.” He gestures with his arm for me to go inside. I glance at him briefly and then open the door. The floor beneath my bare feet is tile and I can hear the steady echo of water dripping. Showers. There’s a vanity shelf on the left hand side with some folded black clothes. Five minutes he said. I strip out of my dirty jeans and the t-shirt they gave me on my first day here. It’s freezing cold and my teeth chatter as I shiver violently. I turn on the water in one of the showers and it’s cold, but I don’t have time to wait for it to heat up. He said five minutes and I don’t want to risk him coming in here to drag me out. I jump under the cold water and almost scream when it touches my skin. It heats up quickly though and I swear, hot water never felt so good. There’s a soap dispenser on the wall, and the gel soap smells like cheap toilet cleaner, but I don’t care. I rub it into my hair and over my body, washing it off until the water runs clear and I feel clean. I want to stay in that heat all day but I can’t. By the time I’m dried and dressed I already feel more sane, as though I’ve physically washed away the effects of my imprisonment. I’m dressed in a long sleeved black shirt and what looks like combat pants of some description.
When I step outside Nicholai checks his watch. “Good. Lets go.” Where we’re going, I don’t know, but I follow anyway.
He walks ahead of me to the end of the corridor where he once again stops in front of a door and gestures for me to go ahead of him. It makes me suspicious, as though he wants me to go first and face what may be on the other side. I know it’s ridiculous. If he wanted to hurt me or kill me, surely he would just do it? But I can’t shake the paranoia.
I place my hand on the heavy steel handle and push down. The hinges squeak loudly as I push it open into a small corridor with another door in front of us.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Your new home.” He says quietly. There’s a key pad on the left hand side, and he leans around me, entering in a code.
When the door opens, I stand frozen. He pushes me inside and the door bangs closed behind us, the heavy metal bang echoing around the vast room. A loud buzz sounds around the room, signalling the fact that we’re now locked inside, imprisoned. I panic and turn around, colliding with Nicholai’s chest. His fingers wrap around the top of my arm and he spins me away from him so hard that I nearly fall. He holds both my shoulders, forcing me to look at my surroundings. The room is vast, and for the most part it’s an empty space. Every available wall is covered in weapons. Guns and knives, cross bows and swords. There are targets on the far wall and heavy punch bags hanging in the centre of the room. The worst part though is the worn concrete beneath my feet. The grey is stained with blood, turning it a strange shade of brown with streaks of red in places.
Nicholai moves in front of me, bending at the waist and bringing himself eye level with me. He puts a hand in his pocket and takes out a lolly, offering it to me with a flourish and a smile. I take it from him with shaking fingers, watching him take out another one and unwrap it.
“I want you to meet someone. Sasha!” He shouts and pops the lolly in his mouth. A figure shifts from the shadows, moving over the ground so gracefully, his footfalls are nothing more than a whisper. He stops just to the left of us and stands bolt upright with his hands clasped behind his back. He can’t be much older than me, although he’s at least a foot taller and heavily muscled, despite having that gangly teenage look about him. His golden blonde hair is cropped short, and his clothing is all black, a long sleeved shirt and cargo pants much the same as mine. Green eyes remain firmly fixed ahead and I actually find myself looking, trying to spot what he’s looking at on the far side of the room.
“Sasha, this is Una.” He spares me a brief hard glance, but says nothing. “She will be joining you and your comrades in training.” Again his eyes flick to me, lingering just a little longer this time.
“Nice to meet you.” I try for polite, but immediately feel stupid.
There’s an awkward pause before Nicholai speaks again. “Sasha is one of my brightest. I have high hopes for him as I do for you.” He assures me. “He will look after you, won’t you, Sasha?”
He claps a hand on the boys shoulder and he nods stiffly. “Yes, sir.”
Nicholai smiles around his lollipop. “Good. This makes me very happy. Make me proud, little dove.” He winks and then heads for the door.
He’s leaving. Of course, I knew he would, but panic rises in me. I don’t want him to leave. What if they put me back in that cell? He’s the only one I can trust here. I start to move towards his retreating back, but Sasha wraps a hand around my mouth, using it to wrench my body back against his. His fingers dig into my jaw hard enough to bruise. My breaths become erratic and I struggle against him. He holds me easily though, and I watch as Nicholai flashes me one last look over his shoulder before walking out the door. As soon as it’s closes Sasha releases me. I wheel around and stagger away from him, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on him as I back away.
He sighs and narrows his eyes impatiently. “Grow up, or you will die.”
“Where is he going? Why am I here?”
“He goes wherever he likes. He’s the boss, and you’re here because he thinks you have what it takes.”
“What it takes for what?”
“To be one of his elite.” He steps closer to me, tilting his head down until I can feel his breath on my face. He cocks one eyebrow. “A killer. An assassin.” He says the words quietly, for effect. He’s trying to scare me, and it’s working, but I refuse to show it. A killer? Strong.
“An assassin.” I frown, breathing the word.
He eyes me up and down before shrugging. “Well, you are a girl, but if Nicholai wants you…” He turns and starts walking away. “Keep up, and try to make it through the first week. He asked me to watch you. I’d rather you don’t die.”
I run after him and he pushes through a door, exiting the room. There’s yet another concrete corridor with the harsh fluorescent strip lights flickering above our heads. He opens a door and steps aside, allowing me to walk in front of him. The second I step inside, four sets of eyes stare at me. I drop my gaze to the ground and wait. I’m not sure what for.
“This is Una. Nicholai brought her personally. Try not to be assholes.” They stare at me as if I have two heads. There are four sets of bunk beds in the room and the four guys are sprawled across different ones. No windows, only the harsh lighting.
“But…she’s a girl.” A dark haired boy spits the word as if it’s dirty.
A laugh comes from one of the others, a tall boy who has no shirt on. “He’s never seen one before.”
Something gets thrown and then they act as if I’m not even here. I release the breath I’d been holding and Sasha jerks his head, gesturing for me to follow.
“This is your bunk.” He points to a metal locker. “Your locker. It has a set of basic kit in it, although it won’t fit you. Breakfast is at five and training starts at six.” He turns his back and crosses the room, taking a seat on one of the lower bunks.
“Don’t mind him. He’s taken one too many punches to the head.” I look up at the topless guy. His forearms are braced against the bunk above mine and he ducks his head, flashing me a blinding smile. He’s the dark haired, brown eyed poster boy for good looks. My eyes linger a beat longer than they should on his muscular torso, and I blush, trying to look anywhere but at him.
“Um, thanks?”
“Alex.”
I nod. “It’s nice to meet you,
Alex.” I glance nervously towards Sasha, expecting him to shout at me for talking to Alex, but he’s not even paying attention.
Alex follows my gaze and smirks. There’s something about him, an easiness that feels misplaced. This place already feels like a tomb, a concrete tomb no one knows about, a place where children are trained to become killers apparently. I will die here. I’m almost resigned to that fact, and yet…Nicholai brought me here. He said he has faith in me. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can be strong. Maybe I can become someone feared, because fear garners respect. I want that. I want to be powerful. For some reason I want to be worthy of Nicholai’s hope, his faith. I want to make him proud.
It’s not until the lights are turned off and I’m laid on my back in a dark room with four boys that it finally dawns on me…this is it. It has to have been nearly two weeks since I left the orphanage, and in those two weeks, I’ve been locked in my own personal torment. Not once in this entire time though was there ever a fixed end point. Honestly, I thought they would kill me, but if they didn’t…if they didn’t then I had just a slither of hope that they would send me back to the orphanage, back to Anna. Now, that’s gone. This is the end point, this is where I will live or die. The only way I might see Anna again is if I impress Nicholai enough and become what he wants me to be. That isn’t happening any time soon.
I allow myself to think of her, something I avoided while in that cell. She must be having awful nightmares right now. I miss her so much. Tears prickle behind my eyes and then start to fall in a steady stream. I press my hand over my mouth to quiet my ragged breaths and squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to get a grip but I can’t. I hear the aggravated sighs of more than one of the guys in the room. They must think I’m some pathetic girl who won’t last two minutes. I probably won’t. I don’t know how long I lay there trying to smother the sound of my own tears but eventually the springs on the bunk above me groan and I just make out a pair of legs in the dim lighting before Alex jumps to the ground.
I sniff and sit up, watching as he sits on the edge of my bed. “You keep crying like that, titch, and these guys are going to hammer you in the ring tomorrow.” He whispers, and I can make out his brilliant grin in the darkness.
“I’m sorry.” I keep my voice low.
He sighs and lays down on the bed beside me. “We were all there once. Come here.”
I frown at him. “What are you doing?”
He grabs me and yanks me close to him, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m tired. Go to sleep.”
I lay there, my body tense. Why is he doing this? I’m instantly suspicious of any form of kindness, because well…it’s a rarity in my life. No, it’s like he said, he’s tired and I’m keeping him up. That’s all. I finally relax into his warmth. He remains on top of the blanket, the thin material dividing our bodies. It’s freezing outside, but Alex is in only his workout pants and a tank, seemingly untouched by the icy air. His breaths even out pretty much immediately and I focus on him, on the steady pounding of his heartbeat next to my ear, the rhythmic draw and release of his breath. The sounds lull me to sleep.
6
One year later. 14 years old
“A child is an uncut diamond.” - Austin O’Malley
Alex’s fist collides with my jaw and I stagger backwards, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He’s got at least forty pounds on me, and three extra years of training. He’s good. He throws another punch and I duck, popping up and catching him in the kidney. The hit doesn’t do much, but I can see the pain written on his face and it gives me a smug sense of satisfaction. I’m the girl, the one who was supposed to be a whore. Nicholai’s favourite. They taunt me, and make it known that they see me as no threat here in the ring, but all it does is make me even more determined to prove myself. Alex throws me to the ground and I smile, because this is where I’m best. I manage to twist my body and wrap one leg around the back of his neck. I see the moment he realises his error and he tries to get up. He lifts me clean off the matt, and slams me back down. I smile at him as I hold onto my ankle, squeezing against his artery until his eyes roll in his head. I maintain it until he passes out, his entire weight falling on top of me. I lay there on the mat, panting and trying to catch my breath. My ribs scream in protest with every breath and I can feel my jaw swelling already. James, our trainer comes into view, hovering over me.
“Good.” He shoves Alex’s unconscious body off me with his foot and turns away. He doesn’t think that a girl should be here, training with his soldiers, especially an under fed scrawny girl. His praise is hard earned but all the more valued for that very reason.
Nicholai was right when he said he’d make me strong. This, right here, it feels like a purpose. It makes me feel as though when the monsters come for me, I can fight them, and come they will, because they always do eventually.
Sasha appears over me and offers me his hand. I take it and jump to my feet. “Anyone would think you’re adverse to blood.” He murmurs under his breath. His green eyes meet mine and he cocks a brow. I know what he’s thinking, that I’m squeamish. This is not the place to be squeamish. We’re soldiers, assets. They train us, condition us to become numb to everything, particularly blood, violence and death. I’m fine with blood. We fall back in line beside Sunny and Adam, the other two guys in the unit. They don’t like me and I don’t like them. We don’t talk to each other at all.
“I just don’t like unnecessary mess.” I say flatly. Why draw blood when you can disable an enemy without it?
“You’re such a girl.” He whispers. I want to hit him but I don’t.
Alex groans from his spot on the floor. James is crouched beside him, wafting a pot of smelling salts under his nose. He coughs and waves James away.
“God, that smells like shit.” He looks up at me and smiles. “You’re getting good at that, titch.” He pushes to his feet and walks over to us, shaking his head. I glare at him but say nothing else as he falls in line beside me. I hate when he calls me titch in front of the others.
James stands in front of us, meeting each of our eyes in turn. He lifts a finger and points at me. “You underestimate her because she’s female!” He shouts before stepping up in front of me. “And you must learn to use that to your advantage.” His lips curl slightly at the side and it makes the long scar that runs diagonally across his face, sink into his skin. James is the kind of guy that would scare the shit out of even the most hardened soldiers, but he’s a great trainer. He told me the first day I was here that he didn’t want me to be the best. He wanted me to kill the best. “Dismissed!” He shouts.
We break and head for the showers. The days here are gruelling and it doesn’t seem to matter how used to it your muscles should be, they still ache at the end of every day. Our days consist of training in everything from fighting to shooting and general physical fitness. Then there’s the mental side as well as the educational. I’m learning English, Italian, Spanish, and German. We also learn tactics and strategy, because it’s not enough to kill a target, first you have to get close and then you have to have an escape plan. Everything here is like a mental and physical assault, retraining your body and mind to see the world in a completely different light. James often tells us that to be the best you must expect the unexpected and be prepared for any eventuality. Preparation at knowledge is key to survival.
I step into the locker room and strip out of my sweaty training gear. I’m the only girl here, and well, this facility isn’t exactly geared to having girls. I get no special treatment, including when it comes to the communal showers. I gave up on modesty a long time ago. Being naked is just par for the course, and I don’t have time to be shy about it. The guys don’t care, although Alex is getting increasingly weird about it, as it is Sasha now I think about it. I walk into one of the open shower stalls and turn on the water. As usual it takes a few seconds to heat up. I’ve learned to like the few seconds of cold. It’s like a jolt to my body, reminding me that I’m alive. As soon as the heat kicks in the
warm water soothes my aching muscles. When I turn around I find Sunny glancing in my direction. Even after a year we barely talk or acknowledge each other, and he relishes in trying to make me uncomfortable. His eyes drop to my chest and I glare him. My attention is drawn to my left when I hear a low growl. The shower stalls are separated by dividing partitions which cover the average adult from mid thigh to shoulder. Alex is at the stall to my left and his gaze is firmly fixed on Sunny, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he stares at him. The tension is thick in the air and I find myself glancing between the two of them.
“Una, get out.” Sasha says quietly, appearing in front of me and holding up a towel like a wall, blocking me from the rest of the room. His face is serious and his eyes keep subtly flashing towards Alex. “Now.” He growls.
I roll my eyes and snatch he towel from him, stepping out from beneath the hot water.
“It’s just skin, guys.” I grumble, mainly in Sunny’s direction. “I have no idea why you’re being so weird about it.” None of them say anything so I take a deep breath and leave the bathroom, heading back to the dorm. I throw on a pair of work out pants and a tank top - all in black of course – and head to the cafeteria. Sasha and Alex are normally with me, but they’re apparently busy having their strange boy moment with Sunny. I attempt to drag my fingers through my hair, but the wet strands are tangled together hopelessly thanks to their lack of any kind of actual washing. Magda, cooks all our food in the cafeteria. She’s a nice lady, but mute. She hands me a tray of food and I smile and thank her. The food here is good, lots of meat for high protein and carbs for energy. It’s a far cry from the rations in the orphanage. Once again my mind flashes to Anna and I almost immediately slam the door shut on it. I think of her and feel guilty for leaving her alone, I then feel bad, so I refuse to allow myself to think of her, which makes me feel even more guilty. The entire thing is best just left alone while I’m here, unable to do anything about it. It’s a pointless thought process that does nothing but hurt me.