The Queen's Cutthroat

Chapter 1

She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands.
"One last time," she whispered to herself.
One. Last. Time.
         ---
Everly could kill a man with just the touch of her finger. She had been locked up in an underground military prison since the first time she had killed. She was only ten years old at the time.
  It was an accident. She was trying to save his life. A young boy was walking across the street as a car was coming. Everly yanked his wrist and heard him scream in pain. She figured she had merely gripped his arm a little to tightly - then his body collapsed. Everly jumped down and placed her ear to his heart. Nothing. She had touched people before, this was some thing new.
   A middle aged woman with raven hair and crinkled skin around her eyes that grabbed her phone and dialed the police. Everly could still hear her voice.
   "We need an ambulance and guard," she didn't bother to lower her voice, "I am on Queens Avenue with a girl who has just murdered a young boy." Everly had gotten up and run over to the woman.
   "You've got it all wrong!" She cried, "I didn't do anything, he must have... had a heart attack!" Everly grabbed the woman's arm. The lady yanked away and told her to back away.
   Minutes later, an ambulance arrived as well as her and the boy's parents. They all stood in horror with what she had done. The boy's mother collapsed in the fathers chest and sobbed. She saw a tear roll down the father's cheek as he comforted his wife. Everly's parents slowly approached her.
   "Look at what you've done!" Her mother shouted, "You've taken his life!" Everly's father stood still as a statue and glared.
   A large truck drove up and four large men jumped out - all dressed head to toe in military uniforms with weapons in their hands. Three of them dragged Everly into the back while the fourth held open the door. Everly sobbed and banged on the door. In her struggle, she called for her father to do something. He stared blankly at her, doing nothing.
   Once they had strapped her down in the car, the guard that had opened the door pulled out a club. Before she had time to react, the club hit her in the right temple. The last thing Everly saw was black.
           ---
Everly was done being locked up. She had spent 7 years in this cursed prison and wanted out. Everly backed up from where she stood and swung a leg into the sink. A small piece of the edge cracked off, and she caught it before it could hit the ground with a clank - alerting the guards of her escape.
   Bracing herself, Everly cut through the thick glove that went up to her elbow. The gloves allowed the guards to approach her without risking instant death from her touch.
   Scraping the porcelain up her forearm, Everly left a trail of blood and a scrape on her arm. It disappeared seconds after. Everly's eyes widened.
"That's new," she muttered. Hardly anything surprised her anymore. Peeling the rest of her glove out from around her arm, Everly set the piece of the sink on the cold cement ground.
   She stood just around the corner of her cell, where a guard could look into the room via the small slot that they fed her food through, and see nothing but a hard bed with thin sheets and a blanket full of holes. Looking outside through the small hole in the wall, she sat silently.
   At sunset, she heard the shuffling of a guard leaving his post outside her room and the footsteps of another  guard coming towards her door - just as they had every day for the past seven years. She placed her plan into action. Everly would fight her way out of the prison with nothing but her bare hands. After all, you don't need a weapon when you were born one.