Chapter Six

Chapter Six— Awakening.

A cracked skull. Broken ribs.

At exactly seven pm, the little girl had been pronounced dead. Elena’s heart squeezed tight, as she watched the medics drape a white sheet over the body.

“Move her out to the back.” Viktor said, a solemn expression on his face. “Bury her with the rest.”

“Shouldn't her body be sent back to her parents? Her loved ones?” Elena found herself asking.

Viktor stared at the body. “She had no one when we found her.” He shook his head pitifully and turned to face the rest of the girls. “None of this should faze you. She couldn't keep up. It was very unfortunate.”

And just like nothing had happened, Viktor moved to the center of the room. “Ten minutes break and we're back here again.”

The girls dispersed. Elena moved out of the room, shaken. The little girl was barely up to eighteen, just like a few others here. Viktor had hit her, sparred with her—she didn't stand a chance.

Her blood boiled.

“Don't be too hard on yourself,” a voice came from behind her. She spun around and found Matteo standing behind her. “You weren't responsible for.”

Her heart rate accelerated. “She was a fucking child!” She yelled. Matteo didn't flinch. “At least if you're going to kidnap people who'd be a valuable addition to you, go for someone who's old enough.”

He stared at her. No one had ever spoken back to him, at least not in this manner.

Viktor approached, watching, his brown drawn together in disapproval.

“I’d watch your tone if I were you,” Viktor warned, coming up behind Matteo. “Do you realize who you're talking to?”

Elena steadied her breathing, turned around and walked away. She could care less who the hell Matteo was. He was a prick that deserved serious jail time—Viktor included.

Viktor moved to stop her but Matteo held him back. He glanced at Matteo in surprise.

“You're starting to take a likeness to her,” he said. “I don't like it.”

“She'll learn one way or the other,” Matteo responded and walked off. A part of him hoped it would take her a while for her to be obedient. He was looking forward to it.

Her stubbornness unleashed a different fire in her. One he didn't mind dancing in, even if it burnt him.

_______

Jayden!

Her heart rate quickened. There he was, only a couple feet away from her. The yard was big, people scattered everywhere— hard at work.

Silently, she slid out of the troop she was with and approached him. Jayden kept his eyes fixed on the punching bag in front of him.

“Jayden?”

At first he didn't turn around. She tapped him and he flinched, a frown already forming on his face.

He stared at her, confused. “Are you lost?”

Those words… they felt like a hard punch to the gut. Elena blinked, her eyes never leaving him.

“It's me…Elena. Don't you remember me?” She asked. His frown deepened and he shook his head.

“We used to go to the same highschool.”

Jayden stared at her, a blank look on his face. He couldn't recognize her—whoever she was. Disappointment quickly flashed through her eyes, her expectant smile quickly fading.

This couldn't be happening, she thought to herself.

“I can't remember. Maybe you have the wrong guy,” he shrugged and refocused his attention on the punching bag.

Elena stood, transfixed to the spot and mute. She couldn't process any of this. Her eyes never left him. How could he not remember her? She stared even harder at him.

Surely, this was Jayden. Her first love and her first true friend.

“Elena!”

She spun around and found Viktor watching with a disapproving look. She jogged over to him, keeping her eyes low.

“I'm very sure I made myself clear… no frolicking with the others.” He moved her towards another punching bag, dangling from a chain in the center of the room. “Give it your best shot.”

Elena eyed the thick punching bag. She squared her shoulders, lifted her fists and struck the bag. It was hard, stuffed with sand?

She bit back a wince. “Harder, come on,” Viktor said.

Elena struck the punching bag again and again until Viktor stepped in.

He shook his head. “With just your hands, you're uselesss,” he said. “If you keep punching like that, you'll break those fingers.”

She exhaled roughly. Frustrated and in need of another break. Ten minutes wasn't enough but Viktor cared less.

“Again.”

She lifted her fists and punched the bag once, then twice and thrice. Each punch grew stronger. Frustration mixed with adrenaline and all she could see was red.

God, she didn't want to be here. She wanted her life back. She remembered Jayden, then Matteo and suddenly, she struck the bag of sand, hard.

A soft crack sound sounded. Pain shot through her hands. Her knuckles were bruised, the skin split open and blood stained.

“That's enough,” Viktor said, an unimpressed glint in his eyes. “You'll get killed if you can't control your emotion.”

“I don't care.”

He struck her across the face, harder than he'd intended. Elena staggered back, falling on her arse. Her vision blurred quickly.

“When I say something you listen,” he spat bitterly. “Stand up!”

Elena struggled to rise to her feet, gripping on anything and everything. She shook her head, an attempt at clearing her hazy vision.

“Hold her still.” Two ladies moved to hold her and he grabbed a steel pipe. “The next time you decide to talk back to me, this is what would happen to you.”

The last thing Elena saw was the steel pipe in the air before everything went dark.