Underworld Princess

Chapter 4: The Duolingo Bird

I swear to god I have a problem with all my characters having a deadbeat father. I SWEAR I don't have daddy issues, I'm just unhinged enough to make my characters suffer.

🧑‍💻 Some tech terms you should know about before reading 👩‍💻

Stand Up - A meeting at the start of the day between a team and their manager about how their progress is going.

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I stared at the blood that splattered from my mouth and pooled on the floor. Another cough and I wiped my mouth of the red liquid that smeared across my lips. My knees rubbed against the soil that lay on the earth.

"Get up Ariella!" My father shouted, his voice nothing but a muffled echo to my ears as I panted. "What's wrong with you girl?!"

My fingers shifted through the blood-stained soil as tears dropped one after the other.

Mama.

The funeral was this morning and yet here I was, bloodied and bruised with not a moment to grieve the only woman who kept my sanity intact.

I could see my father barking something at me from beside the gate to the arena. The trainer stood in front of me, armed with nothing but his clenched fists as he charged at me.

I could see not a hint of sorrow or sadness in my father's wretched eyes. He didn't bat an eye for my mother's death and neither did for his child on the verge of the same fate.

He sighed as if deciding to rid himself of my being as well as he turned his back.

I gritted my teeth, my eyes shifting to the dagger that lay covered in dirt a few inches away from me. I wanted my mama back. I wanted to go with her.

I didn't want to be here.

"You're a strong girl, Ariella, I know you'll do great things, my sweet," her voice echoed in my head like a nightmare. "You'll find your purpose in this world, and I will be so proud,"

"My sweet, beautiful fighter, Aria,"

I grabbed the knife. The light drained from my eyes as I forced my weakened knees up. I didn't have another reason to keep living but for the mere fact that my naive mother thought I would do something great.

All I knew was how to fight. If she left me in this hell to survive, I was going to spend every day of it resenting my own existence. Then so be it.

The trainer was merely an inch away from me, his fist coming down to collide with my face to put me out of my misery once and for all. Holding the knife hilt with both hands, I turned the blade upwards.

If this is what she wanted from me. Then this is what I'll give her. Without a moment of hesitation, I plunged the knife into his stomach.

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My eyes snapped open and I immediately reached for the gun under my pillow before sitting upright.

The sound of the safety flicked off as I panted vigorously, moving the aimed gun at every angle of my empty apartment bedroom. Sweat drenched my back as my pyjama top stuck to my skin like a second layer and I gazed furtively around my room.