Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[12]

I STOOD IN THE COURTYARD, still as a statue, just like everyone around me. There were twenty-eight girls in all. All dressed the exact same, and all in the exact state of confusion for just what we were doing in the stone area, bathed in complete and utter silence.

We were all so small, shivering in long grey rows, some trying to stand tall and others not bothering to hide their fear, allowing it to consume their tiny frame. It had been so long since we had been outside, and the bright lights were shocking, beams of light refusing one to hide their expression in the shadows. We were all exposed.

It was several minutes before the woman we would learn to address as 'Madame' spoke, her deep red lips snapping us to attention and glistening like fresh blood in the sunlight. Her Russian accent pierced the silence.

"This is your first test. We will evaluate you on your ability to fight and think on the spot, and if you are smart enough, you will make it through. Failure, however, will result in punishment."

Punishment. I did not know what exactly that meant just yet, but the words sent shivers down my spine and struck deep into my mind. We had known pain, but these were new trials and undoubtedly that left new consequences to any failure. Unfortunately, I was one of the smallest, the scrawniest with eyes too large for my face and trembling at any sight of a threat.

Vomit bubbled in my throat. I felt faint from the thought of fighting one of the girls around me. I could not fight. I was useless, with shaky hands and a nervous tick that meant nothing but bad things toward me here. I was not sure why I had been chosen, but I certainly was not a smart choice. At least, not for a warrior.

That is what they had told me, at least.

Madame ushered forward two girls, both quivering from fear, and gripped their shoulders tightly. Her blood-red claws dug into their exposed skin, but neither dared to even let out a squeak of pain. "You will have five minutes to win your fight. A win by whatever means needed is a win. Do whatever necessary to succeed."

Even though it was not me in the ring, I could feel myself growing more and more nervous as the girls tensed up and began to circle each other. Their eyes locked on one another, waiting for an opening. Searching for a chance to take control and do, as Madame said, anything necessary to win. Within seconds they had grown hungry, desperate to escape punishment and succeed somehow. Gone was the bond between the two, replaced with animal instincts prying away their humanity.

They - we - were just children. No one thought of that, however, and would not if they saw such a scene.

All of a sudden, one jumped forward and gripped the other's forearms. She began to pull her down with a ferocity I had not expected from such a tiny girl. She flopped clumsily, not sure how to stay down, but managed to hold her opponent to the cold stone and unable to stand up. The other girl dug cut-down nails into her arm and thrashed in the hold, but couldn't break free of the tight grip she was under. It was clear she had lost - so quickly for a first fight. 

She was panicked, pleading silently with widened eyes for mercy that would never be approved. The girl had seized control and despite what little compassion still remained, she would never give up her victory because of another's life. That was not the way that had been taught, and not the way any of us could afford.

Madame watched with displeasure for several seconds, then stepped forward and clicked her tongue, "enough. This is over."

The winner, a girl with straw blonde hair and even lighter eyes, panted as she got up off of the other who had just seconds ago been her opponent. The gravity of her situation seemed to sink into her mind and she took several steps back, eyes welling up with tears at the sight of the girl on the ground. She did not seem to know quite what to do with herself.