Desolation [h.s]

Chapter 15

3rd person

14 years ago

It's one hit to the face.

Then another.

Then another.

And another.

The child's small body stumbles back, her tiny hand moving up to wipe at the crimson blood that had begun to trickle down from her nose. It stained her hand a bright red that she quickly wiped away on the material of her pants, ignoring the pain that was beginning to boil up.

It was spinning in the room or maybe it was just from the amount of blows to the head that the brunette girl had taken. Her miniature body was beginning to deplete, all energy and anger that had been built up was slowly dissipating, leaving from every inch of her.

Through foggy eyes, she looked up at the man twice her age that she had been assigned to fight. She was half his age, size, strength, almost everything anyone with a brain could name. But that wasn't something anyone cared for. This was training and that meant you went against people who could take you down in one blow.

You see how much you can take until you're almost dead on the ground.

On wobbling feet, she approached her contender, tongue toying with the tooth that was starting to become loose.

Yet another thing to lose of her remaining childhood innocence.

Her knuckles ached, the soft, taut skin bruised and cracked, blood painted across them. Her nails dug into her palms, breaking the skin there as well. That's all she could see.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

The yelling of the instructor and other trainees faintly echoed in her ears but her mind couldn't focus on that, it couldn't focus on anything. The only thing it managed to train in on was the man who was charging full force at her, lips pulled into a snarl.

His fist was coming towards her, and fast. She went to duck, but it was too late. The sound of a fist colliding with her cheek sounded through the room. The onlookers let out loud yells, some of victory and others of loss.

But the girl couldn't move, she couldn't get up.

Her weakened body laid on the floor, unmoving besides the ragged rise and fall of her labored breathing. Her blue eyes were closed shut, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks delicately.

Maybe if she closed her eyes hard enough and laid here long enough, she would never have to get up ever again.

"You see this?" A voice boomed and the girl didn't need to open her eyes to know who it belonged to.

"This is an image of defeat. Of loss. Of total and utter failure," the voice announced and the crowd erupted in loud cheers.

But still, the girl did not open her eyes. Not even when she heard the voice of her instructor announcing her name to the group, proclaiming her the laughing stalk of the fight.

No, she never opened her eyes. She kept them locked shut until she felt a tight grip on her jaw and an arm used to lift her to sit upright.

At this, her eyes snapped open.

"Don't ever," her instructor hissed to crowd before turning back to the girl, dull gray eyes piercing into her with such disgust, "allow yourself to be such a disappointment and failure as this one is."