There was no light. Not even a ray of sunshine could enter the room. Only darkness could be seen, and children's cries could be heard in the dark and gloomy prison.
Katarina, a twelve-year-old girl, scooped herself into the deepest part of the cell where she was being held. She didn't know if she was alone in the tiny cell or if she had company. Katarina didn't even know if it was already night or day. She did count the days from the first time she was brought into this place. Later on, she eventually lost track of time.
Anyway, it didn't matter whether she was imprisoned here for years or just a few days. Time in the dungeon seemed to last an eternity.
At first, she was brimming with hope. Part of her hoped that her parents and family could get her out of this place. That they would eventually find her and then rescue her. That hope, however, gradually faded.
'Help me! Please, help me!'
Katarina clenched her teeth and dreadfully covered her ears. Those words, those sobbing and pitiful tones, were the sources of her current predicament. Katarina wouldn't have to suffer if it weren't for that girl.
But it was also her fault.
Why did she end up pitying that girl? Why did she even save her? What was she even thinking when she braved the storm to save that girl?
Was she hoping to be hailed as a hero?
Nope, she wasn't. It was all pure kindness.
But look! Where did her kindness lead her? Nothing but misery and pain!
Suddenly, a loud bang jolted her mind awake. The children wailed louder, causing her head to throb in pain. She despised the fact that she couldn't smack their lips shut. In the past, she used to find children fascinating and amusing. This time, however, she wanted them to be at least ten metres away from her.
Click. Click.
Each cell was opened one at a time. The children began to beg, pleading for mercy. Some screamed for their mothers and fathers, while others mumbled prayers to be saved.
However, Katarina felt numb. She was done sympathising with them. She had had enough of wishing, praying, and hoping that all of them would survive this ordeal and live an ordinary life. Instead, she hoped that this would end. She wanted all of them dead. Only death would finally release them from torment and agony.
That was the most ridiculous but effective form of kindness in this situation.
Before, she was disgusted by those who supported euthanasia while still considering themselves good people. But now she understood.
What's the point of living if you're miserable? What's the point of struggling if you know your efforts will fail?
If that was the case, it was better to be dead than alive.
Her cell door was soon opened. She didn't wait for someone to drag her out. She stood by herself, and with the help of her excellent hearing, she managed to figure out where the exit was.
Staying in this hell helped her become reliant on her ears. While they were occasionally brought into a room with light, they spent most of their time in darkness.
The man escorting the children from their cells raised his brow in amusement.
Throughout the time his father had ordered him to do this work, he couldn't help but stare in astonishment at the girl in front of him. He'd never seen a child so composed. And she was a girl at that.
Even when the doctors gave her multiple drug doses, she remained unfazed. It was as if she would die if she let others see her vulnerability.
He clicked his tongue. He was only fifteen, but his environment had made his mental state more powerful and even crazier. Hence, it would no longer be a wonder if he acted like the girl if put in this situation. He had no idea about the girl's background, but he was sure she was just an ordinary girl living in a rural area. No one would bother looking for her or even take her disappearance seriously. At least, that's how it was supposed to be.
"How are things going? Do you think those children are now prepared?" his father inquired.
After bringing the children to the doctor and returning them to their cells, Trevor made his way to his father's office. At the moment, his father and the head doctor of their project were discussing.
"They should be tomorrow," replied Doctor Xerxes, puffing on his cigarette. "The drugs' effects should be visible tonight. You can mark those who would die as failed. Whereas those who managed to survive can be tested tomorrow."
Trevor's father, Don Emilio, nodded in satisfaction. "I'm hoping the experiment this time won't have the same trouble as it did five years ago."
Doctor Xerxes shrugged. "Whether it will or will not depends on fate. Five years ago, the organisation was up against a powerful family. It was expected that we would fail."
"What if they barged in and disrupted our project once more?" Don Emilio queried. He frowned as the incident from five years ago flashed through his mind.
"Don't be troubled," Doctor Xerxes stated. He lazily leaned back in his recliner and puffed on his cigarette again. "Right now, they're keeping a low profile. I heard a lot of things happen internally. So you don't have to be concerned about them suddenly appearing again. Just make sure that none of our movements is traceable. Whether they're keeping a low profile, you are nothing against them."
Don Emilio's face twisted. He knew, however, that Doctor Xerxes' words were accurate.
"We'll train those children for a week before we let them into the arena," Don Emilio decided. He didn't care about those little lives, but it would be a waste of time if he let them die just like that.
To ensure that that family won't find out about their plan, they decided to have only fifteen children every five years. If he wasted these fifteen children, he would have to put their project on hold for another five years. He couldn't possibly wait that long.
"Whatever suits you," Doctor Xerxes responded with a shrug. Since there was nothing for them to talk about anymore, the doctor left, leaving only Trevor and Don Emilio.
"Father, how about allowing me to choose one child for me to personally train?" Trevor asked as the door closed.
Don Emilio raised an eyebrow. "Why? Did you come across anyone who you consider has the potential to join our organisation?"
Trevor laughed. "What becomes part of our organisation? There's just this one child who has captured my attention. I don't care if she survives in the arena or not. But I'm curious how long she'll keep that strong demeanour."
Would she cry?
Would she beg for mercy?
Would she finally act like a child?
Trevor was curious. Of course, given that the girl would live past tonight. If she didn't, Trevor could only sigh in disappointment. It would only show how insignificant the girl was.
"She? A girl? "Don Emilio examined his son from head to toe. "You've got a lot of women under you, and you still want an underage?"
Trevor burst out laughing. "Not nearly as much as you do. Isn't my mother only seventeen years old when you kidnap and ravage her? You should not be concerned, however. I wouldn't dare to compete with you in terms of perversion. If the girl survives the arena, I'll wait until she's eighteen. Your crown is still yours," he remarked. His pupils dilated, and a grin formed on his lips.
Don Emilio was unconcerned by his son's words. His obsession with Trevor's mother was something he was proud of. In fact, he was pleased with himself after obtaining the woman. She was the only woman for him. Despite occasionally sleeping with different women, didn't he let Trevor's mother be the only one who bore him a child? As for those women who plotted against him or accidentally got pregnant, he killed them all.