Status: I just... idk bro.
Spitfire
{Introduction}
7:55
The blonde eighteen year old sat in the corner and kept her gaze stuck on the clock that hung above the small desk they permitted her to have.
7:56
This room has been where they’ve kept her since she was seven. She remembers every detail of the day they took her.
7:57
Her mother’s hair was long and blonde in a loose bun; she smelled like the lavender laundry detergent and her organic perfume that reminded her of celery. The apartment was small and only housed the two of them. A man in a crisp suit came and stole her away from that apartment and the loving woman who smelled of lavender and celery. Her took her to a hospital-like place that did terrible things to her. The workers here had taken to calling her Seven- because she was the seventh child ripped away from their mother- but she could still remember her name.
7:58
Freya. Freya. Freya. That was her name. They didn’t want her to remember, but she did. Seven remembers everything. She remembers how they beat her. She remembers how they kept her locked in a room. She remembers the fights and training. She remembers all the needles and the pokes and the prods. She remembers all of their faces.
7:59
Every day at eight in the morning they would bring her breakfast, but she’s been preparing. Months of planning and preparation and cunning have gone into this day. She was going to escape or she was going to die.
8:00
Seven stared at the door and clutched the sharpened toothbrush tighter in her palm. They trained her for this. They deserved it. They made her to kill, so kill is what she is going to do.
The door opened to the usual woman in a white lab coat. The one who brought her food and helped stick the needles in her.
Seven stood and picked up her tray of food before quickly slamming the plastic into the woman’s skull. She shoved the toothbrush into the woman’s left carotid artery. Blood rushed from the wound as she fell to her knees and Seven grabbed the gun off of the woman’s hip.
She slipped out the door and down the hall. Avoiding doctors and guards, Seven managed to get in sight of the doors that would lead her to freedom when the alarms began.
They found the doctor’s body.
Guards raced to the exit and Seven shot until the magazine was empty. She managed to drop three guards with leg shots, but she didn’t let her low number cloud her mind. Running to the doors, she pushed them open and sprinted across the concrete.
They were following her and firing their guns. She dropped the pistol she was carrying and let her bare feet slam onto the concrete and then across the grass as she escaped into the woods behind the building.
A painful stinging began in her right arm and she glanced down at it. A bullet had grazed her upper arm, but Seven couldn’t worry about that now. Her ankles were being scratched painfully by fallen branches, but that didn’t slow her.
She had to get away or she would die.
The blonde eighteen year old sat in the corner and kept her gaze stuck on the clock that hung above the small desk they permitted her to have.
7:56
This room has been where they’ve kept her since she was seven. She remembers every detail of the day they took her.
7:57
Her mother’s hair was long and blonde in a loose bun; she smelled like the lavender laundry detergent and her organic perfume that reminded her of celery. The apartment was small and only housed the two of them. A man in a crisp suit came and stole her away from that apartment and the loving woman who smelled of lavender and celery. Her took her to a hospital-like place that did terrible things to her. The workers here had taken to calling her Seven- because she was the seventh child ripped away from their mother- but she could still remember her name.
7:58
Freya. Freya. Freya. That was her name. They didn’t want her to remember, but she did. Seven remembers everything. She remembers how they beat her. She remembers how they kept her locked in a room. She remembers the fights and training. She remembers all the needles and the pokes and the prods. She remembers all of their faces.
7:59
Every day at eight in the morning they would bring her breakfast, but she’s been preparing. Months of planning and preparation and cunning have gone into this day. She was going to escape or she was going to die.
8:00
Seven stared at the door and clutched the sharpened toothbrush tighter in her palm. They trained her for this. They deserved it. They made her to kill, so kill is what she is going to do.
The door opened to the usual woman in a white lab coat. The one who brought her food and helped stick the needles in her.
Seven stood and picked up her tray of food before quickly slamming the plastic into the woman’s skull. She shoved the toothbrush into the woman’s left carotid artery. Blood rushed from the wound as she fell to her knees and Seven grabbed the gun off of the woman’s hip.
She slipped out the door and down the hall. Avoiding doctors and guards, Seven managed to get in sight of the doors that would lead her to freedom when the alarms began.
They found the doctor’s body.
Guards raced to the exit and Seven shot until the magazine was empty. She managed to drop three guards with leg shots, but she didn’t let her low number cloud her mind. Running to the doors, she pushed them open and sprinted across the concrete.
They were following her and firing their guns. She dropped the pistol she was carrying and let her bare feet slam onto the concrete and then across the grass as she escaped into the woods behind the building.
A painful stinging began in her right arm and she glanced down at it. A bullet had grazed her upper arm, but Seven couldn’t worry about that now. Her ankles were being scratched painfully by fallen branches, but that didn’t slow her.
She had to get away or she would die.