They just disappeared.
Disappearances were common. Their team members would wake up in the morning, and find that the cot was made, and the wooden chest was empty.
But there had been far more disappearances than usual.
99 girls had gone missing in the past three days. More than anyone could ever remember. The tension in the Agents was high, which meant more deaths during morning exercises.
Just this morning, 20 girls had lost their lives under the pounding feet of their comrades, broken bodies staining the white snow red. There was no poetry that could make this bloodshed beautiful, no combination of words that could change this into a glorious victory. This was murder. And they knew that.
-
It was now lunchtime. Elizabeth sat rigid on the brown bench, slowly scooping the grey colored mush into her mouth. She stared at one of the grand oak doors, eyes like that of a hawk.
Cassandra had gone to the bathroom exactly 5 minutes and 34 seconds ago.
Cassandra was ever gone for more than 2 minutes at the most.
26 more seconds.
If the time hit 6 minutes, Elizabeth decided she would go looking for her.
Her steely grey eyes were locked on the dark wood, her back rigid, her movements controlled as she continued to eat.
Elizabeth was nothing if not controlled.
But Cassandra was Elizabeth's weakness. Nobody but her sisters, her fellow comrades in Black Omega 7 knew, but it was still a dangerous secret to keep. They all knew. Cassandra had pulled their commander back from the brink of death.
And they knew,
That if Elizabeth lost her,
Hell would reign.
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Elizabeth stood up, spoon clattering against her porcelain bowl, making a loud noise in the silent lunchroom full of girls.
Elizabeth's loafers made no noise as she stalked along the stone floor, and out the wooden doors.
Nobody tried to stop her.
Elizabeth marched down the hall and into the bathroom, treading across the floor silently as she walked down the rows of stalls. Every single one of them was empty.
But then, on the second to last stall, a tiny screech of protest from the metal hinges as she opened the door.
The Academy was impeccable. There would be no squeak on a door in The Academy.
Elizabeth leaned in closer, examining the hinges.
One had bit had been thrown slightly to the side, causing the pieces to grate together.
Almost as if something had slammed into the door, knocking it off track slightly.
Elizabeth straightened, and turned to the toilet of the stall. She walked over, and squatted down. Placing her palm against the white toilet seat, and concentrating.
Then she stood up, stumbling away, back slamming against the stall wall.
The seat was still warm.
Elizabeth raced out of the bathroom, down the dark and silent hall, towards her dorms. She stumbled up the staircase, feet no longer silent, but rather pounding, much like her heart.
She ran down the Omega hall, till she screeched to a stop in front of her dormitory door. She threw it open, and ran into her and Cassandra's bedroom.
Everything was exactly the same, both beds made to perfection.
But Elizabeth knew better.
She fell to her knees next to Cassandra's cot, pulling the wooden chest out from underneath the bed, not caring that it made a horrible scraping noise against the floor. Her fingers fiddled with the latch, and then she threw the chest lid open.
It was empty.
Elizabeth scooted across the floor on her rear, away from the horrible emptiness of the chest that had once held the contents of Cassandra's life.
It was all gone.
And so was Cassandra.
___________________________
Things were not going very well for Zola Nikolai.
Her dollhouse full of pretty little dolls that she could play with was falling apart.
There was a blackening darkness creeping up the walls of her dollhouse academy, and the dolls no longer wore dead expressions on their faces, but rather expressions with every range of emotions.
Her mother was rolling in her grave.
Zola rapped her bony fingertips against the surface of her desk, staring down at the grainy image of a logo on the tabletop.
The American organization called S.H.I.E.L.D.
They were making her uncomfortable. Especially the Inhuman woman named Johnson.
And that girl, named Ana. Someone had sent her. Not S.H.I.E.L.D.
Someone darker. Smarter.
Zola's demons were coming for her.
She stood up, walking away from her desk, towards her large window. Her hands were clasped in front of her pelvis, to stop the shaking in her fingers. Zola did not fear death, but rather what would happen to her afterwards. Hell would not have mercy on her soul.
Her world was falling apart, slowly, just as her mothers had.
But this time was different.
Zola smiled, thin lips stretching across her bony face. She would not fall like her mother had.
Because she still had L.O.L.A.N.A.
Nobody could hurt her as long as she still had darling Lola wrapped around her finger.
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Fast Car✔️
FanfictionShe was dangerous. Her skills unmatched, her heart cold, her appearance innocent. She was beautiful, and if you kissed her, she would kill you. She belonged to no man, she belonged to herself. She was the angel of suffering. She was her mother's dau...
