My Feisty Lady

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 had no idea if she was the only one confined in the squalid cell or if there was another person there with her. And she had absolutely no idea whether it was still day or night outside. She did keep track of the days since her arrival. But later on, she ended up losing track of the passage 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.

In the beginning, she was brimming with hope. There was a part of her that hoped her family back home could rescue her. And that they would track her down and save her in the end. But over time, that hope waned.

'Help me! Please, help me!'

Katarina gritted her teeth and put her hands over her ears in anguish. Those words, those sobs and pitiful tones, had led to her current predicament. If not for that girl, Katarina would not have to suffer.

But it was also her fault.

Why did she end up pitying that girl? Why even did she save her? What in the world was she thinking when she braved the storm to save that girl?

Was she hoping to be hailed as a hero?

To the contrary, she was not. All of it was done out of the purest goodwill.

But look! Where did her act of kindness take her? Nothing but sorrow and suffering!

Suddenly, a loud bang jolted her mind awake. The children's cries grew louder, and she felt a dull ache in her head. She hated the fact that she couldn't smack their lips shut. She once found kids hilarious and fascinating. This time, however, she wanted them to be at least ten metres away from her.

Click. Click.

The doors to the cells were opened one by one. The children then began to beg and plead for mercy. Some screamed for their mothers and fathers, while others murmured prayers for their salvation.

Katarina, on the other hand, was numb. She was done feeling sorry for them. She was done hoping, praying, and wishing that everyone could pull through this ordeal unscathed and return to their normal lives. Instead, she wished for this to end. She wanted each and every one of them to perish. Only death could finally relieve them of their suffering and torment.

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. However, she now understood.

What is the purpose of life if one is miserable? What is the point of struggling if you are aware that 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 sit around waiting for someone to drag her out. She stood up, and with the help of her excellent hearing, she managed to figure out where the exit was.

Staying in this hell made her dependent on her hearing. They were occasionally brought into rooms with light, but they spent most of their time in the dark.

The man who was escorting the children out of their cells cocked his head in amusement.

Throughout the time that his father had ordered him to complete this task, he could not stop staring in astonishment at the girl in front of him. Never before had he seen a kid so level-headed. And she was a girl to boot.

Even after receiving multiple drug doses from the doctors, she remained unfazed. It was as if she would die if others saw her vulnerability.

He clucked his tongue. He was only fifteen years old, but he already had a powerful and slightly crazy mental state thanks to his surroundings. So, it wouldn't be strange if he acted like the girl if he were in this situation. He had no idea about the girl's background, but he was certain that she was a typical country girl. Nobody would care to look for her or even take her disappearance seriously. At least, that was supposed to be the case.

"How is everything going? Do you think those kids are ready now?" His father asked.

After transferring the children to the doctor and returning them to their cells, Trevor proceeded to his father's office. At the moment, his father and the head doctor of their project were having a conversation.

"They should be tomorrow," replied Doctor Xerxes, puffing on his cigarette. "It is expected that the drugs' effects will become apparent tonight. You can mark those who would die as failures. Those who managed to survive will be examined tomorrow."

Don Emilio, Trevor's father, nodded his approval, "I'm hoping that this experiment won't have the same problems as the one conducted five years ago."

Dr. Xerxes simply shrugged his shoulders, "It is up to fate whether it will or will not. Five years ago, the organisation was up against a powerful family. It was expected that we would fail."

"What if they barged in and messed up our project once more?" Don Emilio queried. He frowned as memories of the incident from five years ago flooded his mind.

"Do not worry," Doctor Xerxes stated. He leaned back in his recliner and took another drag from his cigarette. "They are keeping a low profile at the moment. I heard that a lot of things were going on inside. Therefore, you need not fear that they will suddenly reappear. Just ensure that none of our movements are detectable. Whether or not they're trying to stay under the radar, you have no chance against them."

Suddenly, Don Emilio's face contorted. However, he was aware that Doctor Xerxes's words were true.

"We'll train those kids for a week before we let them into the arena," Don Emilio decided. He didn't care about their lives, but it would be a waste of time if he simply let them die.

To make sure that family wouldn'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 postpone their project for an additional five years. He could not wait for that long.

Doctor Xerxes responded with a shrug, "Do whatever suits you." With nothing else to discuss, the doctor left, leaving Trevor and Don Emilio alone.

"Father, how about allowing me to select one child to train personally?" Trevor asked after the door closed.

Don Emilio's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why? Have you met anyone who you think would be a good fit for our organisation?"

Trevor laughed. "What becomes part of our organisation? There's just one kid who has caught my attention. I could care less whether she survives in the arena. But I'm curious as to how long she will maintain this unwavering attitude."

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 erupted in laughter. "Certainly not as much as you do. When you kidnap and abuse my mother, isn't she only seventeen years old? In any case, you needn't worry. I wouldn't dare to compete with you in terms of who is more perverted. If she survives the arena, I will wait until she is eighteen years old. The throne is still yours to keep," he remarked. He smiled broadly, and his eyes widened.

Don Emilio was not bothered by what his son said. Trevor's mom was the object of his obsessiveness, and he took pride in the fact. In actuality, he was pleased with himself after getting the woman. She was the only one for him. Even though he occasionally slept with other women, didn't he allow Trevor's mother to be the only woman to bear him a child? As for the women who plotted against him or accidentally became pregnant, he killed all of them.

Katarina woke up in a cold sweat. Last night was terrifying. Her heart felt like it was going to burst, her head felt like it was going to explode, and her insides felt like they were on fire.

When she dreamed of the god of death approaching her, she believed she had reached her end. Sadly, she was completely wrong. She awoke, still alive and full of vitality.

She was perplexed.

How could she, locked away in this dreary cell, feel so full of life at this moment?

She suddenly recalled the drugs. Every day, they were injected with unknown substances. They seemed fine at first. Was the effect late?

Her chest tightened. It was her first time feeling nervous since being held captive. Something big was about to happen. She was sure of that.

"You're alive! Good! Good!"

Someone shouted, giggling hysterically. The voice sounded familiar and was somewhere between a boy and a man.

The voice belonged to the youth, who would occasion