Vermillion

13

T/W: SA

"I thought I told you to take the day off Agent" Raffaele boomed from across the gym.

All of the men had stopped what they were doing by now, watching the interaction between the two cautiously.

"I don't do days off" she said simply as she wrapped her hands before making her way over to a punching bag.

Raffaele was seething but decided not to make a scene in front of his men.

He didn't want to seem like a pushover in front of them, but he also didn't want them to think that she had gotten to him as easily as she had.

The men went back to their workouts, some sparing a glance at the girl every few minutes.

She tore into the punching bag, drawing back her hands so quick you could barely see them, and landing punches so hard the bag would ripple.

Some men were intimidated by her, some turned on, others annoyed by her presence, but the girl paid no mind to any of it, she was focusing on beating the shit out of the bag.

As she was punching it, she began to picture the faces of those who had hurt her in the past. Her punches grew even more merciless with every new face.

So many people flashed before her eyes, so many people had hurt her. She didn't remember what some of them did, but she remembered how they made her feel.

She remembered how weak she felt, how scared and alone she was.

Suddenly she wasn't in the gym anymore. Everyone around her had disappeared and she was standing in the middle of a damp dark room.

A single chair was in the middle of the dull room, the sound of water dripping the only sound reaching her ears.

Until she heard his voice.

A girl was sitting in the chair. She couldn't have been older than eight.

She was trembling in fear and disgust as the middle aged man put his hands all over her.

"You're a dirty slut" he spat "that's all you are"

"P-please" the young girl begged, tears rolling down her face "I just want to go home"

The sound of her face being slapped filled the small room, soon followed by the sounds of her whimpers and cries.

"You're going to be nice and quiet for me, aren't you?" he coolly whispered into her ear.

She cringed at the feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand rubbing up and down her small thigh.

"Y-yes" she choked out.

"Good girl" he replied, and got back to work.

Circe stared at the punching bag in front of her.

It was no longer hanging from the ceiling, but now in a heap on the floor, sand pouring out of the side of it.

Everyone in the room, including Raffaele had stopped what they were doing as they watched her gasp for air.

They had watched her mercilessly pound into the bag as if it were her her worst enemy a few moments ago.

To Raffaele, she looked like a completely different person. Her normally empty eyes had been filled with so much rage and pain he thought she might explode.

Circe looked down at her hands. Blood was soaking through the white wraps and dripping onto the floor, not even those could protect her from her punches.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

She had gotten flashbacks before, but never as bad as that. Her body shook violently as she left the gym without another word.

She once again sat in the shower, bare skin against the cool tiles, cold water dripping down her face and soaking her hair.

She watched the blood rinse off her knuckles as she processed what she had remembered.

She was so young.

She knew that wasn't the only time that had happened. And she knew he wasn't the only man that took advantage of her vulnerability.

"You left quite the mess in the gym" Raffaele said.

Circe looked up from her knuckles to the man leaning against the door frame. She hadn't heard him come in.

He tried his best not to look at her bare body, focusing on her face, on her eyes.

The person in front of him right now was not the same person from just moments ago.

The person in front of him right now was a hollow being, an empty shell of a human.

The person in the gym was a ball of rage, red hot anger, anger that had been bottled up and stored for years.

"Hmm" she barely acknowledged as she went back to staring at her knuckles.

"Sometimes" he said "when I remember unpleasant things, I go for a walk to clear my head" he told her before leaving her on her own once again.

She watched the bathroom door close as she thought over his words.

It was Raffaele's way of telling her that he understood what she was going through. He mightn't understand what she remembered, but he understood the pure fear and rage flashbacks can bring.

Circe threw on a large hoodie and sweatpants and made her way downstairs and into the vast gardens.

It was dark already. She must've been sitting in the shower for hours.

She walked for a while, looking at the flowers and plants as she passed, silently admiring the smell and colours of them.

The sky was clear and the night was cool. When she looked up she could see all of the stars shining brightly.

Looking at the stars brought her peace in that moment. Everything in the young girls life stopped for a while, and the only things left were her and the stars.

She found herself lying on the grass, staring at the stars until her eyes got fuzzy and clouded over with sleep.

Falling asleep under the stars was something she had never done before. It felt foreign and wrong to her, but she was unable to move her body.

She fought with her urge to sleep for a while, but eventually gave up, and the next time she woke up, she was in Ilaria's arms, being carried back to her room.