The Red Room is no place for a child to grow up. Large sums of little girls are taken from their homes, parents, and siblings. Only the ones deemed fit survive. to be trained into child assassins. they are controlled and elegant, they are efficient...
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Hi! welcome here. You have found this story I have written. I hope you like it and that there aren't too many grammar issues. This is my best and most thought-out story yet. my friend and I were bored one day and came up with the idea for a canon-compliant fic that shows more about the red room and what that's like, while also having some interesting characters. I absolutely love Medusa. And I feel like even in the first chapter I love how the characters are developing. I really hope to finish this story someday, and am working on more chapters soon. I want to give a lot of credit to @chaosluvrr for helping with this, they are amazing. He helped me come up with ideas and make sure I stayed on the right track. but I'll let you get to the chapter, enjoy!
TWs for this chapter, sorry this is a bit intense, warning for kidnapping, forced hysterectomy on a child, mind control(idk if I'm supposed to tag that), mentions of guns and blood, and children placed in bad surroundings. -Message me if you want specifics or if I need to add or change warnings.
Part 1, Phase 1
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The sounds are a lot louder when there isn't any light. The darkness was almost comfortable though. After hours of the same tiny four walls and tear-stained faces, what would they need to see anyway? the cramped shipping container had been stuffed full of small girls. Most were no older than five, the eldest being maybe 10. All shoved so close together, that some had to sit on the other's laps.
There were probably 50 of them all terrified. Some had been kidnapped away from parents, loving families with daughters just missing on the way home from school, and some had been taken from children's homes and nurseries while the teachers and watchers sat drugged with sleeping darts and tied in corners. And worse, a few had been handed over by their family members. either due to large sums of debt owed, or promises of care and a good life for their daughters(however true that promise was)
A jolt in the container caused the girls to scream again as they felt themselves being lifted off the ground. They were thrown about sharp moments, a few of the girls hitting their heads or arms or legs against other girls and the walls and floor. It had been many hours since the girls had been packed inside. They were hungry, tired and traumatized.
One girl, blonde hair down her back and sticking to her wet cheeks was thrown back against the container door. She clasped her hands over her ears, wishing the screaming would stop. Her knees brought up to her chest. She was maybe five, just small and baby-faced. Her cheeks were red from rubbing, her nose rubbed raw from her constant sniffling. Her honey-brown eyes glistened with fresh tears.
She was so utterly alone. Just hours ago she had been with her mother. it had been just them, it was perfect. they were walking to school, her blue backpack with little embroidered stars that her mother had sewn on was swinging against her back as she took large steps. Her mother with matching brown eyes and the kindest face had picked her up and swung her around, the little girl's blonde hair flying in the wind, messing up the beautiful braided half-up do her mother had done.
