Poison Onyx

。 11 。

☆*:.｡. o(▽)o .｡.:*☆

☆*:.｡. o(▽)o .｡.:*☆

1999

Two more years had past and if anything, it had gotten worse. The body image Nova had to succeed was horrible. Her spine was visible if she bent over, legs and arms skinny. Meals were always small portions but contained protein, making them strong but there wasn't enough for them to be as strong as they should be with the amount of work they put in and the age they were.

Nova was now seven, had learned how to use a gun properly, was capable of loading up most types that they handed her. She could hit targets in the centre with every knife she threw, granted they were still and they people she'd be trying to kill would be very much alive. She had learnt a total of three languages so far; Russian, French and Spanish.

Over the two years, her body had become far more scarred. Her thighs were riddled with the purple marks, torso scratched and arms ugly. For such a young age, you wouldn't except her to hate herself so much, but she did. She loathed herself. The girls around her in her group would stare at her scars, some even flinching away from her if she got too close to them.

Lily and Jenny stood by her side, though. The three girls had become close, their little friendship group lasting through the torture. At night, they would stay up talking quietly and if someone opened the door, they'd dive under the covers as quick as they could to avoid being seen. They were sneaky and knew what they were doing, easily avoiding being seen by anyone.

The soldier had become warmer to Nova over time. Only Nova, though. It was because they spent more time together and the time they spent together was relaxed, talking and reading. He was the one how sewed up her wounds, cleaned the blood from her body and helped wipe her tears. Well, helped wiped the tears when they were around.

The black haired girl had now perfected not-crying. She got cut? She wouldn't cry. She got punched? She wouldn't cry. She got kicked? She wouldn't cry. She got stabbed? Nope, no tears. She got beat black and blue? Nothing. They'd burn her eyes like fire would your finger if you hovered it over a candle but they never fell, just stung like hand sanitiser in a paper cut.

Right now, Nova stood in front of a human shaped target, holding her gun up. She clicked off the safety and pushed down on the trigger. Five bullets left the weapon, piercing into the target. One in the head, one in the heart, one in each shoulder and one in the torso. All spot on target. It was perfect.

Madam B stood in the corner of the room, a sadistic smirk on her slightly chapped lips as she watched the girl shoot another five, the bullets just going through the pierced holes that were already there. Nova was a prize, her puppet, her toy, her trophy. She just wanted to use the poor girl.

Once it was empty, Nova placed down the gun on the table beside her and picked up the five knives station beside it. Her fingers trailed over the sharp blades and a dot of blood appeared on her skin, it dribbling down onto her palm. She didn't react. She knew better than that.

Turning to the new target that had been set up by the soldier, she breathed in through her nose deeply before launching the knives all at once onto the target. She had been told to do this. She could aim one at a time and get them all in, but not multiple in different places. She was often confused as to why exactly that would be a useful thing to know but her opinion didn't matter.

Two knives missed, clattering to the ground. One went in the head of the target, one in the right shoulder and the other on the edge of the target, just in the left rib cage, not in the right place at all. Madam B tutted at her 'poor' attempt to succeed in her task. Walking towards the girl, she grabbed one of the knives from the weaponry wall that was set up in the room for all of the girls.

"You are not learning." Madam B sneered, Russian accent thick. "What will it take for you to learn such a simple task?"

Nova didn't reply. It was a rhetorical question and she knew that. Madam B gripped her left hand tightly and forced her fingers away from her palm, placing the blade of the knife on her palm. The young girl winced slightly as she felt the blade cut into the meat of her palm, a thick line showing up. Blood started to drip down her palm and onto her wrist, down her arm in slow lines.

Sometimes, when you're a child and bored in the car on the way to holiday, if it's raining, you'd most likely watch the raindrops drip down the window to see which one would win or if one would 'crash'. Crash meaning they would blend into another droplet. Nova did that with blood. She watched them trail down her arm, slowly racing. Like turtle and the hare but it's just a bunch of turtles.

Ah, left wins today, Nova thought as the droplet of blood hit the crease of her elbow, spilling down it horizontally.

"Sort yourself out." Madam B growled, shoving her harshly away by the arm. "Soldier, take her back to her dorm then bring her to my office. I will not stand for this intolerance."

He nodded as Madam B started to clean the knife. Grabbing her arm, much more gentle that Madam B did, the soldier lead her out of the room and up the stairs towards her dorm. Once they'd pushed open the oak, Nova nearly smiled seeing Jenny at her bed, grabbing something she needed.

"Hey, Nove." Jenny smiled softly before she noticed the soldier and her head bowed, not wanting a punishment.

"Hey, Jen." Nova said, a small grin making its way onto her face as she gazed at her friend.

"Out. She has an injury." The soldier spoke up and Jenny nodded, grabbing her ballet shoes and leaving the room, closing the door behind her with Nova following her with her eyes.

The soldier cleared his throat and she turned up to him and saw his raised eyebrow. Moving over to the bed, she started to get her necessary things out. At this point, she had began to keep medical supplies in her draws with the amount of times she had to clean wounds.

Just another day in Hell

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