Poison Onyx

。12 。

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Nova stood in front of the outfit she was supposed to put on, just looking at it in confusion. It didn't feel right. She was seven so she should act and look seven, not seventeen. Her hand grazed the pleated skirt and she grimaced in distaste. She never really liked skirts and dresses all that much, prefers trousers and shorts but she could deal with them.

With a sigh, she slipped on the fishnet tights and then the pleated skirt. It was short. Too short. It came above her mid thigh and made Nova feel uncomfortable for reasons she did not know. Next was the top which was a short, almost bra-like, t-shirt and then a mesh shirt over the top, all black.

The tiles of the changing rooms were a clean white. She looked at her reflection in it and smoothed out the skirt. She didn't like how it looked. She felt too revealed to everyone and everything. But, then again, this is what she's be wearing in the years to come, perhaps even more revealing.

Sexualisation. It was something the Red Room ran on. The sexualisation of young, helpless girls. They would have to lure the target in with a perfect figure and enticing moves, the sway of their hips, the movements of their legs. It was all to kill the target. But why not just do that? Why not just snap their neck and be done with it? The simple way.

Nova left the changing room and looked up at the soldier who was waiting for her outside. He told her to turn around and she did so. Scraping her hair back tightly, he started to tie it into a bun and Nova thought he might as well have ripped her scalp off. It felt like she'd just had a face-lift, if she could imagine what that was to feel like, it would've been the soldier's way of tying a bun.

"My eyebrows are about to fly off, Winter." Nova grunted quietly as he tugged her black locks back some more.

"You don't want your hair falling down for practice." The soldier, or Winter, replied.

"Thanks." Nova muttered after he'd finally finished but then he got hair gel out. "Of c-course."

"Your baby hairs." Winter grumbled, slicking it back into the bun before he added some barbie pins. "Done."

Nova and Winter made their way down to the performance room, the young girl tugging her short skirt down a bit more because she felt exposed. When she pushed open the door, Madam B was standing there with a man next to her. He was shorter than the soldier by about three inches, about 5'9 and a little muscly. He had a very serious face put on, hands clasped in front of his body.

Nova stood in front of the two, waiting for her instructions, the soldier now standing by the doorway. Madam B looked her over, scanning her body and the outfit she was wearing and decided it was suitable with a small nod and a hum.

Nothing was said and another nod was given and the man stormed towards Nova. Confused, Nova's eyes then went wide when he swung at her head. She ducked the punches he sent her way and skidded between his legs, out of his way. Running over to the weapons table, she picked up a small black knife and an arm wrapped around her neck.

She tapped his arm twice and could feel him letting go but Madam B shook her head, watching Nova's airway be cut off. Winter straightened up, glaring at the man slightly but Nova grabbed onto the man's forearm and used her strength to lift herself.

Quickly, she pushed off the floor, folding her body and her legs wrapped around his neck, ankles crossing together at his chest. The man gripped her ankles, trying to pull her off but she grabbed onto one of his arms and skilfully held it back. Madam B seemed impressed, the evil smirk still tainting her face. His other arm was still out of her grip and he used it to land a harsh punch to her torso and she felt the air from her body being knocked out of her for a second, but she stayed on his shoulders non the less.

This was panic now. She could feel it rising in her chest. Taking over her movements. Crawling through her veins thickly. Palms becoming sweaty and head fuzzy. The man was reaching towards the weaponry table and Madam B was shaking her head in disappointment of her prize unable to win. Winter was watching almost anxiously as the man picked up a knife and landed a harsh slash to her thigh, cutting the tights as well. Grabbing his hair, she pulled it back.

Nova was suddenly dropped to the floor, blood sprayed across her hands and face. Her back hit the floor and she rolled over, scooting away from the man's dead body. Looking down, the knife in her hand had thick blood dripping off it into a pool on her leg, some even down her hand and up her arm as she held it up.

As she looked over at the man, she saw his neck open with a thick slash, blood oozing out of his body surrounding him like some sort of sick nightmare. His eyes were blank, empty, cold and just staring at the ceiling, movements all gone except for a finger that twitched before it went limp.

Dead.

She'd killed him.

It didn't even take a simple thought for her to do it either. She just... did. And it felt almost natural. Lifting a shaky hand to her face, she wiped off some of the man's blood, horror in her eyes as she gazed at the smeared crimson on her fingertips. It would taint her skin, even if she washed it off, it would still be there; the raging thoughts in her mind that she'd done something so despicable to another human being.

Madam B hummed happily at her success, soldiers coming in to clean up the body. Winter looked over at Nova who was just looking between the knife and her bloody fingertips, the girl not even bothered about the thick gash in her thigh that was spilling onto her skirt. Her face was pale and she looked to be on the verge of passing out.

Carefully, Winter grabbed her arm and lifted her up, leading her out of the room at Madam B's orders, taking her back to her dorm. Nova leant on him the whole time, near enough stumbling as she walked, in shock of what she'd just done. What she'd soon to be doing again and again.

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