Reina de la Muerte

chapter thirty

vanessa

I didn't realize how starved I was until the dark stranger began showing up daily with platefuls of meals, day after day. I certainly wasn't ready when he—who I've learned is called Arson—would pull out a second course, then a third, always demanding I eat more...which I did.

I've been in this hospital bed for five days now. Arson has come every day to check on me to see how I'm holding up. After I spent hours crying with him as my awkward support, occasionally patting my shoulder or rubbing my back, it dawned on me that I'm in a much better position to find a way out of here, and may never get this chance again.

"Stop moving your damn head already."

I'm hit on the top of my head with a comb and I can't help but smile.

If there's one thing I'm happy for, it's that there are people in the organization who remember me—familiar faces I've killed with, spent my free nights drinking and laughing with.

"Sorry," I murmur, closing my eyes as the very comb is used to brush through my clean hair.

That's another thing I'm enjoying about this room. Hot showers.

"You should be apologizing to the hair I nearly cut off," Elana retorts. She continues snipping at my hair and I watch as each strand, longer than the last, falls to the ground. "I prayed to God that you would never return here, Vanessa. When I heard that bitch got a hold of you again, I damn near stormed her office and slit her throat."

I hum quietly. "She could never forget her prized possession. I'm just relieved you're safe."

"If you'd even call it that," she mutters under her breath, aggressively snipping off another strand. "When you left, she started working us into the ground. 'If you aren't perfect, you're garbage,' is what she says. And making a mistake was like asking for the Reaper...most of the girls would mess up on purpose because at least they would be free from her. That's when she started targeting young boys and men—easier to break, easier to train."

How can an individual be so disgusting and inhumane?

I know as well as Elana that this is how Lucía Morales has always been, but to think she's the one responsible for ruining thousands of lives is beyond me.

I can't imagine the last time she's had an opportunity to sit and chat with people rather than kill them. From what I remember, she was second in our class, next to me. Though Lucía treated her like shit, it was clear she relished in the fact that she found a partner to her perfect killer. We were always put in training sessions together and when it came to performing field tests, Elana was often put against my team to see which of us could last the longest before passing out from exhaustion or pain.

I'm just happy she's still alive.

"She'll bring in the occasional group of women, though," Elana continues, snipping away as she rambles. "She brought in five a few days ago, you know. They all have just about the same story: no parents, raised and traumatized in the foster system, forced to learn how to protect themselves."

"How many soldiers could she possibly need?" I spit back, only to have my head pulled back. "Ow!"

"I told you to stop moving your head," is all she says before putting the scissors down to comb through my hair. "But you'd be surprised how many she has been losing as of late. Many of them will be sent on a mission and disappear without a trace. It's driving her mad but it only makes her take her rage out on the newbies. I tried to interfere once—she put a fabric bag over my head and would nearly drown me. It went on for a week; I never stepped in after that."