Chapter 6

Kill Marshall.

.....

We become like the things we repeatedly do, the litlle habits that composed ourselves. My body soon fell into the irregular rhythm of my captor's place. I didn't know how I followed with the time. I think it was been a month but it could also been a year; too much has changed that if I got the chance to look in the mirror I wouldn't probably recognize myself. I became a different person on the outside but mostly on the inside.

I lived every single day of my stay in the place with a constant fear of it being my last breathing day. The bugging feeling that I would never see the light of the mighty sun, killed me every single waking time that I wished to stay with the haunting eyes.

The owner of the note hasn't reveal itself thus adding to my constant paranoia.

I trained everyday; they needed me fit. I took series of vitamins and injections- that I haven't had the least of idea when they administered. Nick was still my trainer but we had been in a state of awkwardness since that day in my room. I played the memory repeatedly in my head but it wouldn't explain anything and only worsen the guilt inside me, it was my fault.

I haven't yet found out how they choose who would fight in the arena and how often. It was random and sometimes spontaneous.

I would get a fight more than once in a week. I had killed my tenth girl, I was keeping an organized record of them in my head. I could still see her lifeless face when I closes my eyes. Her pleading voice that chilled me to the core.m still rang in my ears. It was an easy fight. She was a new one and could hardly hit a punch. I had crumpled her in my palm like she was a piece of paper.

I easily become the crowd's favorite. I mastered what nerves to hit to improvise with the lack of strength. Within the small span of time I became the most beloved killer.

I hated it. I despised what I had become. I wished I could say it wasn't me that it was just a monster living inside my body. But it was not a movie it was my own reality.

.....

"This is Dresden," Nick said introducing my sparring partner.

It was the girl in the canteen. She got a face of an innocent angel and if I wasn't in the place, I would have envied her but looks doesn't count where we were. I wished to know her story and the life stolen from her. I wanted a common soul to bear my hardships.

"Hi! Red," greeted the girl with a bemused smile.

"Ow hi. Your name suits you. Like that Russian doll." My voice sounded timid and resigned.

"Enough with the chit chats. Start already," Nick said cutting our talk, a bit annoyed at us.

We get into a fighting stance. Dresden seemed fragile but looks could be deceiving.

Fist after fist. Blow after blow were exchanged.

She surprised me with a kick in my side then tackled me to the floor. "You need to prove yourself worthy of my trust Red," she whispered in my ear before she butted my head hard on the floor and stood. Blood trickled down my nose. I groaned in pain but got up. I gave her a kick but she caught it with her hand. Also the punch after that. She cornered me to the rope away from Nick. "What you say Red?" she whispered once more to my ears while giving me a hard punch on the stomach.

There was something about her tone and the vile taste in mouth warned me to stay away from her. But I need someone, I need protection. "Okay." I whispered back managing to stammer in my uneven breathing.

"Then it's set."

"But how?" I questioned her in my confusion. How could I possibly prove myself? The glint in Dresden's eyes were speaking of something horrible. I knew she would do me no good but I have no choice.

"Enough!" Nick shouted over to us.

Dresden pulled away from me. A menacing smile written all over her face. How could girls like her came to be like that? I couldn't imagine the horrors she'd been through. I pitted her yet the grumble in my stomach kept telling me otherwise.

A guard took her out as I was.

I walked in front of the guard; confusion and worry in my head. The big question was: How will I prove myself? The fucking question would not leave me like how the letter tortured my brain. It was killing me to the point that I might be going crazy. I was left with too little options.

I sighed.

I cuffed my side. I haven't notice the weight before but it was there. There was something in my pants. I took it out as soon as I entered my room and the sound of click echoed loudly. My heart started to beat fast, fast that it almost ache and felt as if it wanted me to pull it out of its howl. I was dying of anticipation. I held the content of the pocket in my shaky hands: it was a note and a small pocket knife. I was so afraid that any moment someone would barge inside and catch me red handed.

Kill Marshall. It simply said. I paced, my breathing spiked, sweat covered my body and I started shaking uncontrollably. How could I possibly do that? That man was so strong, a hundred times bigger than me. Then it sunk in; I need to do it. I had no choice but to do it! But how the fuck would I do that? I looked at my surrounding as if someone was watching me and hid away the note.

There was no way out of it. I continued to pace. Sleeping wasn't an option. I couldn't even remember the last day I slept. There wasn't a moment that I haven't been bombarded with horrid looking eyes. Since the day I stepped out of the box the horrors of blood and death travelled through my head haunting my existence.

I jumped at the sound of click at the opening door like a scared cat. I stood up and Marshall greeted me with a beaming smile. I froze in my spot looking at him.

"So eager to see me?" asked Marshall, rubbing his two hands like he was cold or something; a thing similar to what addicts do. "Come on! Out now!" he shouted commanding me.

I must not heard him or his words didn't register in my brain. I just stood there glued to the floor a foot away from the mattress. The note and the knife hidden in my pocket weighed heavy every second he was in inside the cell. The burden of the unspoken promise, the need to survive for the mom who might think I was dead. I couldn't possibly just give up, I have already done the worse. What could I possibly lose when all was robbed already?

I could this. No I could not. Yes I could.

No! No! No! A silent battle in my head that could last forever if only I got all the time in the world.

I haven't seen what happened but Marshall stood at my front, rather too close for my liking. The proximity making me ill. "Did you hear what I said little Un? Are you gone deaf? When I said move. You move,"he whispered in my face, sour foul breath hit my nose and my breathing hitched. His callused hand started to caress my shoulder, up the face. I trembled in fear and disgust. "If it was just with me, I would have taken you a long time ago."

His mouth forced its way to mine, battling to open my teeth. I struggled away in his grip, but his brute force was too much for me. He steadied me with his hands, pinned me to the wall. I started crying, feeling hopeless. I kept struggling away in his grasp as he continued pressing my body harder to the walls. I couldn't think straight and did the only thing my mind could think of, I kicked him between his knees. His grip loosened. Pain immediately shoot through him as he fell writhing in front of me, cradling his damaged manhood.

I quickly took the knife out my pocket without another thought. I went over at his still struggling form. He looked at me and before he could react I stabbed him hard, on his nasion.

Nasion is located directly between the eyes and above the bridge of the nose, when stabbed here, it may trigger a condition known as traumatic asphyxia, which may result in death.

A flash of a TV screen came before me. A man in a suit with mop brown hair talked about stabbing. The best place to put it so it could be very fatal.

I sat in front of the TV munching chips after chips as I digest what the man talked about.

"Where are you bitch?" a man shouted, slamming the door close. I hurriedly drop my chips and run to the stairs up my room but the man caught my leg.

"What's happening here?" A voice took me out of the horrid memory. Marshall laid on the floor, in a pool of red blood. Not breathing.Lifeless."What the hell!?"

I looked at the steaming red face of Craig as he saw the scene before him. I quickly took the note in my pocket and into my mouth, swallowing the evidence. Craig grabbed me out the cell. My eyes never leaving Marshall. A knife was in his head. I killed him. I had proven myself.

But to what cost?

Was is worth killing him?