Her Shadows

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AMELIA POV

[8 years old]

I felt so tired. My bones ached with every fist I threw at the punching bag in front of me. I just wanted to collapse onto the floor and sleep, but I couldn't. I had to keep punching this stupid bag in front of me that's too tough against my fragile fingers.

I can feel his eyes lasering holes through my skull. His presence like an ever-present gloom haunting my movements. He wouldn't let me stop. But I just wanted a break. Could I just rest for a minute? Just a few seconds?

My arms are shaking so fiercely I can feel the vibration in my teeth. I'm sure they will fall off soon. My poor fingers are so numb I'm not even sure they are still attached to my hands.

I wish I was allowed to wear wraps. But Eugene said I had to learn with my bare fists. It just HURT so much.

For just a moment I paused, wiping sweat from my brow and placed my hands on my knees, heaving for breath.

But then I heard Eugene approaching, his boots slamming against the floors and shooting shivers of fear down my spine.

No, no, no please no.

"Did I say you could stop?"

Every bone in my body turned to marble, ready to crack under the pressure at any moment. Shaking with terror I raise my eyes, using a shield of eyelashes to protect myself, and replied, 

"No. I'm sorry"

A raised brow, "sir"

I would swallow if my mouth weren't so dry, "sorry, sir"

My marble bones begin to chip away. Regaining my posture, I ready myself to begin training again but Eugene's foot flies up and connects with the sensitive skin behind my knees and sends me flying forward. My nose connects in a jarring impact against the bag and my teeth break the skin of my lip.

I cower, holding my gushing nose as tears rise and fall down my cheeks.

Eugene seizes my hair and slams my nose against the unforgiving floors. The muscle dislocates and spews a new fountain of blood causing a pained cry to release.

"Did I just hear a whimper?" A kick to the stomach, "Have I taught you nothing? Never show weakness!" A kick to the ribs, "Your feelings are a weakness. I WANT THEM GONE!"

A foot lands on the already black and blue ribs, pressing down on old wounds, "I don't want a single tear, groan or shout of pain, you think I'm trying to breed the weak?" More pressure, bile rises, and tears fall causing the slightest whimper to escape my young lips, "DO YOU!?"

"No sir" I sob.

His foot comes off of my ribs as he crouches close to my face, gripping my hair and forcing my face so close I can smell his minty breath against my chin.

"You will learn soon that the weak soon become prey. Predators survive. Predators succeed. Predators do not feel. The predator will take great pleasure in hunting the prey of this world and crushing their souls within their fists. Will you be prey or predator Amelia?"

He released me, grabbing his handkerchief and wiping the blood from his hands as he stands and drops the cloth on my chest, walking out of the room.

I peel myself from the floor, wiping the tears from my eyes and ignoring the incessant throbbing from my broken nose. I turn toward the punching bag and continue the gruelling workout.

[End of flashback]

I gasp awake, drenched in sweat from the memory, injuries barking in protest. I bring my hand to my nose, feeling for the slightest bump still present after 12 years.

Will you be prey or predator Amelia?

A decision that forever changed the course of my life. I will never be weak. I will never feel or become vulnerable. Because the vulnerable are inevitably picked off by the hunters and left as nothing but a carcass. No, I was a predator.

But it was time to find a new subject to hunt. No more of Eugene's bidding. Ever since I had discovered his continued involvement in that bastard Auction I had decided my long-overdue rebellion was about to begin. I was going to destroy every last member of The Auction. Kill every last buyer or provider. I will crush their souls in my fists just as Eugene had taught me.

And then I was coming for him.

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Eugene really is an asshole.

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