𝟎𝟖| восемь

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   "YOU'RE HOLDING BACK," Madame B says blankly as Zola ducks away from the taller girl's punch. She jumps forward and sends her knee into the brunette's stomach before she tugs her head down by her hair. Zola then uses her leg to knock the girl off of her feet before she harshly pushes her foot into the girl's back and forces her arm up and out of socket. She holds it in that position as the girl cries out in pain. 

   With fear, Zola's eyes lifted to stare up at Madame B. She had done this too many times before, but that didn't mean that she liked it nor wanted to do it. The eight-year-old girl hated killing, in fact. However, they both knew what happened next.

   Zola unwilling pressed her boot now on the girl's neck, hitting a specific nerve, before she yanked her foot to the side, breaking the girl's neck and killing her. Zola was thankful for the fact that she at least didn't have to see the girl's face right before she killed her. 

   The girls surrounding Zola stared down at the limp body that she stood over. Zola looked down and immediately took a step back in fear. She only did it because they told her to, not because that was what she'd wanted.

   Madame B approached the eight year old who helplessly stared up into her eyes. She hated the woman so much. She knew that the woman was about to beat her or slap her or something. Simply from the smirk on her face.

   Predictably, the woman's hand harshly makes contact with Zola's cheek. She winced in pain and held her head still as she tried to adjust to the pain. 

   "You held back." She whispers. Zola swallowed and turned her head back to face the woman. She dipped her eyebrows inward in anger. She hated her. 

   The sound of heavy, pounding boots seemed to be slowly getting closer. All of the girl's heads turned to look in the direction where the noise was coming from. Zola watched curiously and thankfully because it gave her a reason to step away from Madame B. 

   Out of the doors stood James. His hair was longer, he didn't look as rude as he used to. He didn't look like the other bad guys here. It looked like he was trying to hide something. His eyes seemed shocked but calm. It was clear that he was hiding something important. The sweat dripping down his face also gave it away. 

   "Zola. Vy poydete so mnoy. Now." He says, waiting for the girl to follow after him. He only waited a few moments before he quickly began to walk away. Zola was hesitant, especially because she didn't like this man at all, but eventually, she followed obediently. Zola, you come with me.

   The man looked over his shoulder to make sure that Zola followed after him. He was a swift walker and a stiff one. He seemed tense at the moment, and although Zola didn't know it, he had very good reason.

   He remembered. He remembered everything. It had all come back to him earlier, and they hadn't found out yet. They didn't know that he knew. If they found out, then they wouldn't let him see her again. They'd take him to the Siberian facility and keep her away for good.

   Zola didn't bother speaking to him because she never liked him anyway. She gave him another chance and he hurt her again, so ever since then, she had despised him. She hadn't seen his face in around a year or two, but seeing him again did not make her happy.

   She followed him into some type of dressing room. There were clothes and there was a mirror and makeup. She looked around the room and looked up at him when he shut the door. She raised an eyebrow and took a few steps away from him as he approached her.

   "I-" He began, but she cut him off. 

   "No. You hurt me." She says immediately, stepping away until she had backed herself into the wall. The horrifying memory from when he punched her small body as a four year old girl came back to mind. She had been against the wall like she was now. She winced at the thought of it.

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