The Villain's Bodyguard

Prologue

In a small room, void of light, a thirteen year old girl laid collapsed against a jagged stone wall.

Her pale, nearly translucent skin was marred by scars and bruises, that told the story of abuse from burning, whip lashes, stab wounds and many forms of inhumane tortures; all loosely covered by a dirtied white gown.

Long, unruly pitch black hair concealed her face from the world and her shallow breathing became the only indicator that she was still of this earth.

While the room was underground and the air was limited, it was the sickening feeling of hopelessness that caused it to be suffocating.

A soft creak of a wooden door sounded, taking in a micro slit of light before closing.

Darkness covered the room again and the sound of wheels rolling on stone and foot steps echoed.

"These damn people, how do they expect me to work without light." An old man's voice grumbled with dissatisfaction.

A match was struck and the old man lit up a candle on the cart.

"Carla Travoska, I was sent by the house's mistress to treat your wounds. Your mother certainly loves you very much." The voice, tinged with humor, came out muffled in Carla's ears, yet, it still caused her soul to freeze.

Ice cold eyes penetrated through the cover of hair to look at the intruder.

The light from the candle danced on the stone walls revealing a rather short and stubby man.

All black clothing and a white trench coat incasing him, like an insect with its wings wrapped around itself.

The sound of rolling came from a table; on it was a syringe and a needle. Carla's emotionless stare focused on the syringe before her gaze lazily went to the ground.

The man lifted the syringe from the table and inserted the needle into the top. He lightly squeezed it, to make sure the liquid was prepared before observing Carla.

A slight, confused frown grew on his face.

The house owners had warned him to be careful with her and approach her with caution, however... observing the girl, with or without the syringe she was likely to die.

Without any movement and arms as thin as twigs, was she really a threat?

The man couldn't take those words seriously, especially when it was just a thirteen year old girl, but to be safe he would get it over quickly.

Knelling next to her, "This will only sting for second, so be a good girl and do not move too much."

His free hand reached out and grabbed her chained arm forcing it away from her body.

Carla gave a light struggle to pull her arm out of his grasp, but it didn't do much to avoid him moving it. A light gasp of pain escaped her lips as he tightly held the bruised arm and her small head fell forward resting on his chest.

The man went to move her against the wall again.

"Please. Help."

He froze.

The girl who was clearly not used to speaking, gasped.

"Please, I am human too."

The doctor paused momentarily in surprise. He looked down to see that the girl's black hair had swept away from her face revealing the cold, dead look on her youthful face.

Her body was shaking, but her eyes that were light brown were startling empty.

He couldn't meet them.

He reminded himself, this was something he had done a million times. Quick jab, take the dead body, dispose of it, million dollars; and with people like the Travoska family, it was better to not make mistakes.

Quickly turning away, he ignored her head resting and went to find a vein on her arm.

However, before he could find one he saw a quick movement out of the corner of his eye followed by blinding pain.

The doctor dropped the syringe to grab his now gushing blood neck. His eyes were wide as he looked at the girl whose innocent face was marred by bloody lips.

"Wha-" He yelled at Carla with a vein bursting out of his forehead, he took a couple of messy steps away. His body resting heavily on the table and his eyes polluted with fear.

The doctor's hand fumbled to grab a napkin off the table and stop the bleeding from his neck; it was a hopeless endeavor.

After a couple more minutes he collapsed on the floor. Carla looked at the body. Ah, her mother was going to beat her again. She stepped on another insect.

She carelessly, checked his pocket for keys and used them one by one on her chains. She had done this before, but they never have the right one.

Click, no. Click, no. Click...

Carla froze.

The thick rusted chain collapsed from her arm letting out a metallic ring as it hit the stone floor. Her dead eyes shook for the first time.

Click.

Another chain fell.

Carla climbed to her legs and the over exertion of the movement instantly made her nauseous, but the exhilaration made up for it.

Her steps were slow as she made her way to the door, still unlocked from the doctor's entry.

Outside of the room laid upward pointing stairs and two doors on the celling. Carla crept up the stairs and pushed at the doors, swinging the open to expose her to the fresh night air.

She didn't pause to enjoy the new found freedom. Her eyes dilated as she looked at the brightly lit mansion that stood on top of a hill far above her location. If she focused on revenge, she would surely fail. So for today...

Carla didn't show any emotion as she turned away and slowly limped toward the woods.

Her wariness calmed down once she traveled for a while. Unable to continue on any longer she collapsed on the ground.

Her head lopped back and she stared up at the night sky. She had always dreamed of the outside wondering how it would be like.

However, confronted with the sight of her dream she didn't feel like she imagined she would.

Even with the wind blowing on her face and the inhalation of the cool air nothing changed. She was still as empty as ever. Maybe emptier.

A single tear fell down her battered face.

Maybe she was meant to die.