-1Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell
The sickle moon hung in the sky against the black background. The light it cast shone brightly on the nearest of the grey white clouds and gave a blue tint to the spangled void beyond, adding to the fragility of the frozen scene.
The sound of footsteps broke the cold silence. Half a dozen men made their way down the cobbled street and across the bridge into the main city of Moscow. Maven listened to the crunching snow under their marching feet, and waited. The sound faded back into silence. She pushed herself to her feet and stepped out of the shadowed tree line. Turning the check the path into town was still clear, she turned back towards the huge structure of Balkov Abbey.
Ducking down behind the wall, she slowed her breathing and counted. Two…three…four… She saw the shadow of Boris Balkov pass over her and continue. Five…six…seven…eight… She stood and levered herself over the stone wall and turned to the huge wooden double doors.
'Ah. Miss Hiwatari.'
She cursed under her breath before turning and smiling sweetly, 'Boris. Hey.'
'Your father has been awfully worried about you. You shouldn't torment him like this.'
'No. But he always has your company to make him feel better,' She smiled again.
His expression hardened drastically. He wasn't playing about anymore. 'His quarters. Now!'
Maven turned and entered the stone building. It was colder in here than outside in the snow, she thought, rubbing her arms through her threadbare cotton black dress. Her bare feet made little sound on the stone floor, but the thin brick corridors echoed the sound back much louder. It made her feel small. Probably what father had intended, she thought as she reminded herself what she was about to face.
The corridor widened a little as she neared the massive carved door. She took a deep breath before she approached it. She knocked three times before pushing the door open, stepping inside, then closing it again. The room was a lot warmer, and Maven's eyes wandered longingly at the dancing orange flames in the hearth.
'Disrespectful as well as ungrateful, hm?'
The deep icy voice of Voltaire Hiwatari made Maven shiver. She looked up at her father just in time to see his hand swoop down on her face. She felt herself hit the floor, and tried to regain her vision.
'You are a waste of time and energy. You aren't worth the rags we dress you in!' He pushed himself out of his large chair, and stepped towards the stunned Maven, 'What's your excuse this time? Your anti-protocols! The only way to fix you is to beat it from you!'
'But…But father…!' she stuttered, backing away from his looming figure.
'Don't! Don't you ever say that word again! I'll not be the father to such an impertinent little Bitch!'
He stepped forward, hand raised. Maven was now huddled against the far wall of the small room. Then he faltered. He took a breath, and turned towards his desk. After a few moments, he walked back to Maven's huddled form. He grabbed the back of her tattered dress and pulled her to her feet. He moved in close, still clinging to her clothes, his face mere inches away from her own.
'You are about to find I have a severe intolerance to troublemakers, girl. Do not cross me again.'
Opening the heavy door, he flung her out into the hallway. She landed heavily on the stones, and cried out. Before she had time to recover she felt a frozen hand grab her wrist and pull her to her feet. She looked up into the thin face of Boris, his expression curled into a fierce snarl.
'Such a naughty, nasty little girl. Regular punishment doesn't seem to work, does it?' He mocked, as he began down the corridor, dragging her behind him.
It appeared to Maven, after several minutes walking, that they were following one endless hallway. Every brick looked the same, and the complete grey monotone was making her eyes forget that colours existed. She reached up with her loose hand and pulled her fringe from behind her ear. The deep blue shimmered at her in the dim light, and she almost sighed in relief. She tucked it back into place, and glanced up.
The walls were lined in small square cells, sealed with thick metal bars only a few centimetres apart. Occasionally, they passed a cell a with someone in it. Maven couldn't make out any of the faces in the darkness.
At the end of this corridor was a large metallic door. Boris opened it, but didn't go inside. He thrust Maven into the darkness beyond. She looked up at the silhouette in the doorframe, and imagined the triumphant gleam in his eyes.
'This is what you deserve, you little whore. Nothing more,' He gestured with his hands, and Maven heard movement. All around her the shadows were forming into figures. She was physically shaking now, and felt a sickness welling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced back up at Boris.
'Do as you will, boys.'