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❝Быстрее!❞

Faster.

All in long, perfectly straight rows, moving almost perfectly in sync, staring forward with matching blank stares, twirled girls of all different ages. They didn't blink, they didn't flinch; their eyes were glued forward, set in a permanent pirouette until they were instructed otherwise. If one had not seen the slight twitches of pain rippling down the weary muscles of the girls' skin, one wouldn't believe they were even human.

It was a process that happened every single day unless it was an examination. The girls from varying ages, shapes and sizes, would spin and twirl and glide just as instructed, not daring to give in to the aches and burns from their bodies, facing forward and acting just like the Academy wished for. It was a room full of elegant yet deadly machines, ready to carry out as bid. Each bird lifted their broken wings to the sky and spun towards the centre in time, pausing just enough to let the rare rays of sunlight heal their feathers before cowering in the dark once more.

I stood in the first row, second to the middle, with arms and legs taut along with the other girls flocked around me. Although I wanted to fall to the ground in tears, collapse from the sheer exhaustion flooding through my body, I wouldn't. I couldn't. Anyone who fell was immediately singled out, and no one wanted to be the unfortunate victim of Madame's fury.

 The sharp end of Madame's staff dug into our backs as she trailed behind us, straightening us up or pushing us forward, correcting our posture. I could feel a trail of blood from a freshly opened cut drip down my back, staining my uniform, but I wouldn't stop to feel the pain. It was a test, one that I would not fail. I would never fail - that was just simply not an option.

"Быстрее!" Madame barked again, fixing anyone who dared to oppose her with a steely glare that sent tremors down anyone's spine. She was waiting, poised to kill, praying for an opportunity to swoop down on someone who could not follow her commands. It was one of her favourite parts of the day. "Быстрее!"

I was almost lucky that I was in the first row, for it meant that I was almost always in the centre of attention, just like I needed in order to succeed. Madame's eyes were always on one of us, and one of those times, they were on me. Staying in the front increased my odds. It did ensure that there was no chance of me messing up without notice, but it also ensured more chances of me being recognized over the rest. In a cruel, cutthroat world where 'survival of the fittest' was the only motto lingering on anyone's lips, one had to be in front to succeed.

Daring to move my eyes a fraction of an inch away from straight forward, I watched her circle the room like a hawk with cruel eyes narrowing down on anyone who dared to step out of line. It was thrilling, almost, wondering who would be the one to fall and who would be her prey that day. Every week, there had to be a victim; it simply was how it worked. One would fall, and another would file in.

With that mindset, we had learned not to make friendships so that if one of us fell, we wouldn't feel anything. Especially if we were the ones who had to push them.

There was a muffled cry, and out of the corner of my eye, I made out a flash of movement; one of the standards, losing their balance for a split second. It was barely a blemish in her performance, and if it was anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed. However, in the Red Room, it was what Madame lived for.

Immediately following the young girl's tremor, her eyes lit up, and she snapped her fingers for her men to take the girl out even while motioning us to continue on. A smirk danced on her lips; Madame had taken another victim, for however long she felt extending the punishment. Although I felt nothing towards the girl, as I was supposed to, all of our hearts twinged as she was forced out, still screaming and crying. It was what needed to happen, as the program was only for the best, not mediocre, but it didn't stop the impact of her punishment - one we had all experienced before.

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