Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, nor any of its characters. Anything unfamiliar though, I do own.
His beady eyes were staring her down and it was apparent –
Survival meant listening to him, serving him.
"Head held high, back straight, hands to your side," he snarled.
The young girl awkwardly did as she was told. He scoffed before continuing.
"Look ahead, never down, show nothing. I want your face to resemble nothing"
Her mouth open in surprise and the man quickly slapped it shut. Her features cleared, her eyes started to daze, and she stopped breathing. An observation was made with a smile –
"You aren't like them, you are not normal."
Despair started to grab and the girl wanted to shake it off - Shake everything OFF.
"I want to create a perfect person, the perfect soldier, a monster."
A whisper
".. What does that mean?"
He laughed.
The teenage girl was bored. The words went in one ear and out the other. The flush on the older man's face let her know it was obvious what was happening -
Absolutely nothing.
Her dark eyes traveled up the wall and settled on the clock.
Twenty fucking minutes left.
" My wife... today…. feel….. .. Ava?"
"Hmmm?"
"Good, a response. I was eh.. wondering if you could leave early because uhm something came up and I-"
"Whatever."
The young woman, Ava, quickly got up. She knew if she had stayed the twenty minutes, she would have -
"But wait – I do not want you to think I –
"It isn't like this is doing anything… sir."
Blue eyes snapped up to meet dark, gray eyes. She smirked, her eyes settled on the brown door and her pace quickened.
"I'll see you next-
"Bye."
Ava roughly opened the door, her breathing easing out. Mr. Dickinson thinks these weekly therapy appointments are eventually going to make her open up.
"Yeah, right," Ava mumbled.
"You've failed me, " he whispered.
His eyes darkened and his face contorted into something demon-like.
You've failed everyone.