Survivors of the House

Matilda

The trainer had brought the class into the training room as per routine, and her heart had stopped cold.

Why?

Apparently, Matilda's class was going to spar against a different class that day for Sister training, for their physical test that day. The plan was to cut down the numbers into half: where the winners would remain, and the losers were... They were going to die.

But Matilda hadn't anticipated meeting her sister. They weren't blood related, of course. But they were quite close in the orphanage, even though their age gap was three years apart.

"Melody..." Matilda whispered to herself. She was still young, 13, at the looks of it. But in her eyes, gone was that youthful sparkle that should have been there, replaced by a cold, cruel light striving to survive. Her once long hair had been cut short, to a pixie cut. Still, Matilda would have recognised the girl she had called her sister all those years anywhere, even if she was currently glaring at their class—or could she even be considered her sister now?

The fights had begun earlier, and Matilda had blended herself into the group, taking notes on the other sister candidates, and trying to avoid thinking about the problem, or person, at hand.

Fate dealt her a cruel hand anyway. She could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Matilda rolled her shoulders backwards to loosen them. On the other side of the mat was her sister, keeping her eyes fixed onto the floor as she herself warmed up.

Would Melody still recognise her? Maybe, maybe not. There were a lot of blondes in the facility, after all. She herself had quite the growth spurt since she had left the orphanage. And nobody here made eye contact with their opponent. It was always better to remain detached. Or maybe Melody knew, and didn't care anyway.

"Begin!" Matilda hated every second of the fight. But to survive, she had to win. She crouched into a defensive pose, studying Melody in caution. Without warning, Melody rushed towards her, her arm raised up. She launched her fist at Matilda, the latter barely dodging the powerful blow.

This was bad. When they were in the house, Matilda was quite athletic, always one of the last few to get caught during Tag, and she was proud of that fact. Although Melody didn't run as fast as Matilda at that time, she was already doing quite well for her age.

Another thing to point out was her competitiveness. She always wanted to win. They would often have friendly matches to see who was the best at things, just as sisters would do. Matilda figured out that in this facility, Melody would take whatever means to survive the longest, just like the rest of them.

Well, no matter. Matilda tried to tell herself. As long as I survive. But try as much as she'd like, her hands couldn't stop shaking at the possibility of killing her own sister.

Melody's foot crashed into her side, and she stumbled, barely finding her balance, before raising an arm to block another blow.

She gritted her teeth, aiming a kick at her opponent's legs, who easily dodged.

She still remembered her last night at the orphanage.

"What do you want to do when you get out of here?"

She had smiled at Melody and the other children who had asked her, pulling them into a hug and whispering goodbyes to them, Mama trying to urge her to hurry up. She never got to answer them.

She remembered her first day in this facility.

"The aim of every single one of you should be to get to the very top," She remembered the Grandmother saying. "If you can't, you will be eliminated. Simple as that." The older woman slides a finger across her throat, still maintaining an eerily unsettling smile. "Climb the ladder, and we'll see."

She remembered waking up after a nightmare, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had taken a long time to get back to sleep, staring at the wall of her little room, then the ceiling, then back to the wall. How absolutely ironic. She would never get to grow to live for herself, but as a chess piece of this...farm. Still, there was a way forward. The only way to survive this terror. She wiped her tears. Crying was stupid and of no use in this ruthless place.

Matilda could feel every stare in the room on both of them, including the Grandma's. Her blood was roaring in her ears, along with the whispers in the room that surrounded them as she caught her breath.

I have to do this. I have to defeat her, or I die.

Whatever Matilda did, she did it to survive. She would survive. Her eyes hardened with determination. Anybody who got in her way would just be a stepping stone, nothing but pawns to help her rise up in the ranks.

The Grandmother was right. One way, or the other. She glared at the other girl, feeling a sting in her heart momentarily, but stubbornly pushed it down. In this dog-eat-dog world, she had to keep herself alive. Nothing as stupid as sentiment for her ex sister was going to kill her.

With a resolve in mind, she rushed towards Melody with a newfound speed.

Her opponent might have better physical attributes, but Matilda had the upper hand when it came to experience. Time to switch tactics. She feinted a right hook, instead going low towards the legs once more. Alarmed, Melody leapt up to avoid it on instinct.

Always a newbie mistake. She had always seen the older girls use it against the younger ones, and unless one could think on the spot, it was almost always a dead end. It was too easy to catch them off balance when they tried to land. In tag, too, this mistake was one that often got Melody caught.

"You never learn," Matilda muttered to herself, landing a blow that sent the other girl sprawling. Before she barely got up, Matilda was already there, grabbing her wrist and throwing her over and slamming her to the ground once more.

For a few moments, Melody wheezed, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide with horror, gazing at Matilda with recognition. Matilda guessed she had a pretty similar expression on her face, just that Melody had caught on a little later. She had recognised her voice, one that used to sing lullabies to her, one that used to gossip with her about what was going on in the orphanage, and a voice that used to giggle and laugh with her everyday.

A voice that belonged to her sister that had just condemned her to die.

"Matilda—"

"94884! You are eliminated!" The announcement came with a cold relief, that Matilda had managed to survive another day again. Tomorrow was yet another day, but for now, she was safe. At the cost of her sister's life.

Melody stared up at her, realisation coming all too late. Her gaze never left Matilda, even when the trainers hoisted her up by the arms to drag her away. She moved her lips, but no sound came out.

The last image of her sister disappeared through the door, with the unheard question formed on her lips, the question that all candidates asked themselves in despair of why they were chosen to live just to suffer. The question of why they were born in such a cruel world. Why each day was a struggle to stay alive.

What Matilda had been asking herself just before the whole session.

And why, not even family members could spare each other in this facility.

Matilda barely registered it, but someone started clapping. She lifted her head to see Grandma, looking at her with what seemed to be approval.

"Well?" The old woman looked around her. "Why aren't all of you clapping?"

Slowly, the training hall got louder with applause. Some candidates wore looks of slight horror, although they tried their best to hide it. Others looked at her with a newfound respect, and also at the same time, caution. After all, Matilda had just made herself more noticeable, which was a nicer way of saying that from now on, she was going to be regarded as a bigger threat than last time.

Matilda noticed that her hands were still shaking and quickly hid them behind her back. Forcing what seemed to be a victorious smile, she bowed to Grandma. "Thank you, Grandma." She couldn't say anything else. Something bitter had bubbled up at the back of her throat, choking her up and souring her stomach.

I managed to survive another day, she reminded herself. That's a victory.

No, the smallest part of her brain whispered. You managed to kill your sister.