𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍. ⁿᵃʳᵘᵗᵒ

prologue-

⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺

      A thick layer of anticipation lingered in
the air as a young girl, around eleven years old and a thirteen-year-old boy faced off in the center of the huge arena. The crowd that watched them anxiously from the stands, roared, their cheers echoing throughout the illegal underground fighting arena.

The young girl bore a tattoo. The intricate lines of the mark formed into a large cicada that covered the small of her back, shown through the dark mesh material of her top. Her eyes were empty and lifeless, as she stared at her opponent with undisguised amusement.

She wondered how she had ended up in this situation, how all of her life choices had gotten her here- facing her weakness in the pit of the arena, the very thing she once dreaded the thought of. The boy stared back at her, his eyes filled with sorrow. He knew this was his end. He wasn't mad about it, he knew this was how his life would end since the day the blonde girl had first arrived.

The red-headed boy lunges at her, but she quickly counters the attack before coiling around her opponent's forearm, rolling over the sand that sparkled like frost. In one fluid motion, she springs up behind him- a boy, taller and much stronger than herself, with a scorpion that traced over his shoulder and collarbone.

As he turns to meet her, she spins on one leg, her body a blur of motion. With precision, she mercilessly strikes him in the throat with the ball of her foot, leaving him stunned and his windpipe, crushed.

Dropping his weapon and collapsing to the ground, he coughed, struggling for air. The girl looks down at the boy she once considered a friend, her eyes narrowing mockingly.

"When did you become so heartless?" The boy wheezes out, his onyx eyes finding those of the girl's.

"How does it feel?" She questions, her words a venomous hiss, ignoring his question.

Frowning as he grasps his throat in pain, "How does what feel?" he asks breathlessly.

"To finally lose..." her kunai glinting in the arena lights, she slowly approaches him from behind, stepping over him. With a swift and chilling motion, she grabs his hair and pulls his face from the sand, before slicing his throat.

Releasing him, he fell limp to the ground.

She stood as the crowd around her roared louder; happy that their bets had won in good odds, while others booed at their losing bet. The girl was breathless as she looked down at what she'd done. That was the first time that she realized how much she hated herself.

The eleven-year-old girl shouldn't have been able to overcome an experienced male fighter, whose nickname was on everyone's lips for the second year, and on whom they doubtlessly placed their bets. But this 'little girl' defied all expectations and proved them wrong.

As her blood-stained weapon slips from her grip, it falls into the white sand, leaving a haunting stain. Her eyes, cold and detached, scan the crowd. She may have been breathing and her heart beating, but she wasn't alive. She hadn't been in a long time.-

As she turns to face the host of the fighting arena, there's a noticeable twitch in her jaw. The man enters the arena with a smug, pleased expression over his features. After all, she was his new golden goose. His secret weapon that he had trained to perfection, his own little monster that had nothing left to lose.

~present day~

The moon shined brightly through the singular bar window, casting an ominous shadow throughout the dark cell. Moonlight seeped its way in through every crack and craves, desperate to fill the cell and to reach the young girl who was sealed inside.