Escape. Such a simple word. Almost any living thing can say it, think it, or do it. But it's easier said than done. It has four consonants, three vowels, and two syllables. It has sixteen letters and one meaning: to leave, flee, run. To escape from the dark.

She opened her eyes to the bright florescent lights stuck to the ridged metal ceiling. It was her birthday but no one would remember or even care. The special training just happened to fall on this day. Five years. She was turning five. Which meant it had been five years since she'd come here. This place… The years…

A piercing bell rang somewhere in the distance. Echoing off the labyrinth of metal corridors. Late. That's what she was going to be, late for the first day of combat training –She hopped out of bed– For the past years they had been learning every language, her and the other children there. –She pulled on the one outfit she owned, save for her night cloths, and walked out of her room. More florescent white lights hit her face blinding her. The sun, she thought smiling, seeing it would make a good present. She walked through more rooms till she reached the training room, with a high arching ceiling, made of all metal, and a large space on the floor, metal as well. Hanging on a board in the front of the room were a mixture of weapons. All four girls were sitting on the floor; no one spoke not even when she sat down. She was the youngest so after today everyone would be five. She looked over to the boys. She knew none personally, the children weren't allowed to play; it was training from six am. to ten pm. everyday.

"Crow!" the harsh voice of the man in the front, yelling her code name, snapped her back to reality, "Pay attention!" She nodded and then looked around; everyone didn't look at her save for the sympathetic look she got from a boy in the back of the room.

"Today we start combat training. You will start by choosing a weapon…" He continued on to explain what you should look for in a good weapon, but no one listened. They had all had a sudden interest with the board. When he finished everyone ran at the same time.

Pushing and shoving to get a gun. A boy and girl were wrestling on the floor, a gun next to them. A second girl ran by and took the gun. No one would stop them, the children were encouraged to fight and steal.

She walked over to the board, after everyone had found the weapon they wanted or just not wanting to take the last two weapons. The only weapons left were a long wooden stick and a small knife. A boy was already standing there, he had a mess of brown hair I'd seen him before, but I didn't know his name.

"Which do you want?" he asked smiling at her. She winced, knowing what a smile usually meant. Furtive deep down.

"Which do you want?" he asked again, exaggeratingly rubbing his hand to his chin. She quietly pointed at the staff. He pulled it off the board and handed it to her. She was so astonished she almost dropped the long wood stick. He then in turn picked up the knife.

"Flame!" The man's voice cut through the yelling of the other children. The man continued to yell at the boy, Flame, most likely about giving up a better weapon without a fight. But she just stared at the staff in her hand. When she looked up again the boy had bent over his legs and rolled up the back of his shirt. The Man took out a handle and pushed a silver bottom. An arc of electricity came out of the hole. He raised and brought it down quick. Each crack of the whip reminded her of the piercing pain that came after and then the fire in your blood. Five slashes, that's how many the boy got. She had gotten twenty-three slashes months before. She turned away. The sight made the scares on her back burn.

When the punishment was done the boy walked back a smile on his face.

"Why did you take the knife?" she asked quietly and extremely confused.

The boy shrugged, "An enemy will think you are very skilled or insane," he smiled, "Either way it works to your advantage." She suddenly had a new respect for this boy. He was really smart, or very stupid.

"What's your name?" He asked again.

"Crow," she answered back.

"He almost laughed, "No your real name." No one had ever asked what her name was before. She smiled knowingly.

"Paige," she said

He smiled that mischievous smile again and said, "Xander."