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The Way Back


Chapter Three

"Get some sleep. Forget the whole thing like a bad dream."

-Mark McPherson, Laura


"It is understood that after you beat Karina Ivanova, causing lacerations to both cheeks and mouth, as well as breaking her nose, you proceeded to cut off her air supply by applying pressure to her neck with your hands, correct?"

Lena nodded, "Da," She answered, her voice just above a whisper.

She sat silently in the chair, her wrists and ankles bound with a thick leather strap, confining her to the rigid seat. The Headmistress sat opposite her, eerily calm as she read off the extensive list of wounds Lena had inflicted upon the now deceased Karina. Headmistress pressed her thin lips into a tight line, squinting down at the clipboard she grasped tightly in her right hand, before gazing at Lena. Headmistress tilted her head to the side, analysing Lena. She studied the young woman's sunken green eyes, taking in her dirty blonde hair, strung about her face. It was closer to brown now, darkened from the lack of sunlight she saw.

"Do you regret what you did?" Headmistress questioned her after a moment's silence.

Lena stared back at her superior. Numbly, she shook her head. "No," She spoke, her voice cracking from the dryness in her mouth, "I want to live."

Headmistress nodded. "I admire your resilience, but I cannot have this happen again. I am in control." The domineering woman rose from her chair, glaring down at Lena, whose face remained emotionless. "I decide who lives," Headmistress stated, reaching up to grasp Lena's chin, "And who dies."

She dropped her grip from Lena's face and nodded to the guard standing next to the young woman. Without hesitation, the guard raised his baton and swiftly slammed it down onto Lena's thigh.

The young cadet promptly screeched in pain as the thick baton made contact with her body.

"You must understand, Lena Kozhenova, that I will not tolerate another incident from you," Headmistress hissed. She bent down, coming to Lena's eye level. The younger woman glared at the headmistress, attempting to suppress her pained groans as the agony in her thigh caused her muscle to begin quaking.

"I do not understand what they see in you," She whispered to Lena in a cruel tone. "You are weak, your mind will kill you in the end."

Lena clenched her teeth together, her jaw aching from the pressure. The Headmistress straightened, smoothing out her grey skirt. With one final nod to the guards at Lena's sides, the Headmistress strolled off. Both guards raised their batons, bringing the thick instruments down upon Lena's body. The sound of Lena's agonised wails combined with the muffled beats of the batons, rung throughout the room. The added noise of the Headmistress's clacking heels against the concrete ground finally disappeared beyond the heavy steel door, leaving Lena's screams to fill the entire compound.

Lena's teeth clamped down on her tongue, eliciting a pained gurgle from her as the taste of metal filled her mouth. The two guards continued to beat her until her vision spotted with black dots, but even then Lena refused to give into the release of collapsing. She endured the beating, her nails digging into her palms so intensely her closed fists became wet. She unclenched her hands, gripping onto the wooden arms of the rickety old chair. She hunched over, taking the hits on her back, hiding her head between her legs.

She grunted angrily when her head was jerked back, the smirking features of one of the guards enveloping her eyesight. Lena glared up at him, her hair still entangled in his grubby fingers, and without hesitating; she mustered a mouthful of spit, mixed with a clump of blood, and spat in his face. The guard's smirk fell into a grimace. Dropping his baton at Lena's bare feet, he removed the leather glove from his left hand and backhanded Lena. Her head snapped to the side, and she spat out blood once again, this time into her own lap. From the other side of her, the other guard repeated his comrade's actions. Instead of backhanding her, he hit the side of her face with the baton, enticing a loud crack from Lena's cheek.

Lena stared down at the floor with hatred. She blinked, staring at the ground, as red spots appeared splotched on the concrete. Blood dripped from the cracks between her teeth, trickling over her lips like a broken faucet. Lena closed her eyes, squeezing them shut despite the pain from her swollen cheeks. She wanted it to end; she just wanted it to end.

Opening her eyes, she slowly exhaled. Somewhere in the distant corners of her mind, she could hear that tinkle of laughter again. Someone was calling her, but it wasn't her name. They weren't calling Lena, but she knew they were cooing for her. There was someone out there, someone beyond the thick concrete walls that could hear her screaming.


All he wanted was for her to stop screaming. It was a nuisance – a mere hindrance in the back of his mind, and it unsettled him. He did not understand why it troubled him; he could not fathom why the constant screeches ringing in his ears and echoing throughout the halls caused something to flicker in the deepest corners of his conscious. He just knew it annoyed him.

His muscles relaxed when the screaming suddenly halted. He resumed his training, sparring with the unwilling test subject as different eyes looked on.

It was the flash of long hair that caught his interest out of the corner of his eye that caused the Soldier to pause momentarily. He held the test subject in a headlock, his thick metal arm wrapped around the man's throat, digging into his windpipe and cutting off his air supply. The soldier held the man in this position, staring intently from behind the jagged strands of hair falling in front of his face at the three figures passing him. He stood in the open room, lined with cellblocks, watching as the two guards dragged the small woman, holding her up by her arms, the lower half of her body unable to stand.

His lapse in judgment caused his victim to have the upper hand. The Soldier's attention was promptly taken away from the young woman as his opponent's fist slammed into his crotch. Returning his focus to the fight, the Soldier released the man from his hold and punched him squarely in the jaw, beating him until his knees buckled.

His chest heaving, the Soldier straightened, his blue eyes watching the figures surrounding him. The guards feared him, their fingers resting on the triggers of their tranquillisers, glaring in his direction. The lab coats also feared him, but they were far too excited, whispering in rushed voices as their fingers hovered over a clipboard filled with notes. The Soldier glanced at the bleeding man crumbled on the floor at his feet before looking back to the girl, who had been discarded on the floor at the foot of a short lanky man.

"She will not pass out," He overheard the guard inform the Doctor, "We have beaten her until our hands blistered."

One of his handlers, a high-ranking soldier, now appeared at his side. The Soldier studied this other soldier's red beret, taking in his features, his lip curling up at the sound of the man's deep voice instructing him. He followed his handler's orders, standing still as the group of Doctors eased forward to study him. He glared at each of them, though his ears strained to listen to the conversation occurring behind him, his interest captured completely.

"She refuses to die," The guard continued, glancing down at Lena with disgust. He nudged her with the tip of his boot, but Lena remained still. She lay on her side, completely motionless but alive, her right hand splayed out on the ground next to her. She stared at nothing, her chest barely rising, but she was there –she refused to break.

Doctor Popov gazed down at the young woman. With intrigue gleaming behind his spectacles, he bent down and brushed her fringe from her face. Her hair appeared almost dark brown from the amount of blood matted into the strands. Her entire face was swollen, her right cheek bone clearly fractured. She had suffered and endured a vicious beating, the physical consequences of which would be visible for weeks.

"She is quite the wolf," Popov murmured, studying Lena's features. He gentle traced his fingertips over the bridge of her nose before standing to his original position. Glancing at the menacing Soldier standing behind him, Popov clasped his hands together. Gesturing to Lena, he ordered the guards, "Take her to my wing. She requires another injection."

The two guards that had beaten Lena into her almost comatose state, nodded. They reached down and pulled Lena up, once again dragging her limp body to the ordered area. Doctor Popov once again glanced at the Soldier, his eyes widening when their gazed locked. Clearing his throat, Popov sheepishly hurried from the open area, darting in the direction of Lena and the guards.

The Soldier watched the four figures disappear. His features hardened as he replayed the image of the woman lying limply on the floor, her hair hiding her face from him. His jaw squared as he connected the previous screams to her, the annoyance bubbling within him again.

"Soldat!" His handler's gruff tone tore him away from his thoughts. "Stand ready for your second opponent."

"Da," He complied, the though the girl no longer playing on his mind.


Two Weeks Later

Lena sat at her desk, her eyes strained to the front of the classroom where Madame D stood in front of an old chalkboard. Sucking on the inside of her cheek, Lena listened as Madame D droned on about logistics in French, something she had no interest in at all.

Lena shifted in her awkward new uniform. She felt uncomfortable in the beige stockings and low heeled shoes, the grey-green pencil skirt and matching blazer making her feel too reminiscent of the Headmistress. She could not fathom why they had been issued to now dress like this, but Lena figured it was something to do with the fact that graduation was near. They had lost Dominka to the selection, and Lena secretly hoped she would return in the next few days, broken but alive.

Six girls remained. Lena was one girl away from surviving. She knew if she made it to the final five –she would surely live. Graduation was too close, and she knew the five of them would dissipate quickly.

The sound of the classroom's door slamming open caused Lena to flinch. Her eyes darted to the front of the room, and she refrained from shrinking in her seat at the sight of the Headmistress appearing. It was then that the sight of the Soldier, the very same menacing man that had murdered poor Klava, tumbled Lena's stomach. She fought down the wave of nausea, her eyes crinkling with a glare as she watched him enter the room, his heavy boots almost teasing the six girls with a threat. Four guards followed closely behind, taking their positions in the room. A final man donning a red beret stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the Soldier closely as he moved to the front of the room with the Headmistress.

Madame D sported a polite smile, though Lena could see through the woman's bravery. Inside she was trembling at the reality of the situation, and Lena almost smirked at the thought of the old woman being terrified.

"I am sorry to interrupt," Headmistress began in English, her eyes roaming over the six girls sitting silently before her.

"No, no," Madame D responded with a sheepish smile, "We were just finishing our lesson."

Headmistress nodded. She turned to address the girls before her, a wry smile etching its way onto her thin lips.

"You may be wondering why I am here, and why our friend is here," Headmistress started, gesturing to the large man beside her. "From this day forward you are no longer girls, you are women, and women hold power –a certain type of power, that you must use to gain what is needed. Your training to this day has required you to be smart, to be decisive and quick in your actions. We have taught you to eliminate the bad, to be defenders and informants for your country, and now I must teach you your final lesson. Graduation is upon us and only one of you can pass –it is essential that all of you, as women, understand the necessity for the need that human's have, which men have, and become it."

Lena blinked at the Headmistress. She masked her confusion, simply staring emotionlessly at the array of figures standing before her, but she could not help but feel slightly fazed by her superior's speech.

Headmistress clasped her hands together. She scanned the room, her eyes roaming over each of the young women before stopping on Lena.

"Lena Kozhenova," She called out, almost cruelly. "Please come to the front of the room and stand by Madame."

Lena complied. She rose from her chair, pushing it out before quickly tucking it back under the desk. She smoothed down her skirt before making her way to the front of the classroom, coming to stand beside Madame, facing the Headmistress.

"Take off your clothes."

Lena swallowed the lump in her throat. Her green eyes darting to the imposing figure of the Soldier standing mere feet away from her, watching her with those intense blue eyes, Lena's hands began to shake. She paused, not wanting to follow her Headmistress's orders, but raised her trembling hands anyway. Biting her lip, Lena shakily slid her blazer from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Each button she undid felt like a milestone, and she frowned at the fabric as she dropped it, leaving her top half exposed in just a bra. Her undid the zip of her skirt, letting it slip down her legs and pooling around her ankles.

Lena stepped out of the skirt, leaving her in her underwear and stockings. The headmistress looked Lena up and down before shaking her head.

"Your undergarments as well."

Lena fought the urge to sigh. She gritted her teeth together and rolled down her stockings. She bent down to remove her shoes, then stepped out of her hose. Pausing, she exhaled before unclipping her bra, leaving her breasts exposed. Then, with a pained expression, she pulled down her underwear.

Discarding it all to the side, Lena squared her shoulders, standing naked before the many figures watching her.

She raised her chin, looking up to stare into the unblinking blue eyes of the Soldier. He gazed at her with what Lena could only decide as hunger, but there was something else, something else within his gaze that fought this hunger away. As Lena's eyebrows came together in confusion, the Soldier looked away.

"Lean against the table," Headmistress commanded. Lena lowered her head and moved to the table next to the chalkboard. She leant against it, her thighs pressed tightly together.

"Solider," She then called his name. "Stand before her."

Lena watched, her eyes filled with terror as the Soldier came to stand before her, his body inches from hers. She refused to meet his gaze, her eyes fixating on his bionic arm.

"Now spread your legs."

Lena could not complete the instruction.

"Spread your legs, Kozhenova!"

Lena inhaled sharply as she reluctantly opened her thighs, spreading her legs as wide as she could.

"Now look him in the eye," Headmistress ordered. Lena closed her eyes briefly before reopening them, bringing her gaze to settle on the Soldier's. They stared at one another, both barely breathing as Lena sat before him, her entire body at his disposal.

Lena felt as if hours had passed. The seconds were dragging on as the room filled with tense silence. She felt humiliated, but despite the strong urge to screw her eyes shut, she could not look away from the man before her. There was something about him, something to him that did not seem right. Like she had noticed before, there was hunger apparent for her. His eyes had roamed over her entire naked body, taking in every curve and pore that his eyes could lay on, but as his sight settled back on hers, Lena saw a different emotion swirl inside him –a different emotion she could not pinpoint.

"You are each sacrificing for a greater purpose," Headmistress affirmed, "You must not have any hesitation in yourselves. Your body is your greatest weapon, any man will be brought to his knees at the sight of you."

Everyone but him, Lena could not help but muse. Clearing her throat, the Headmistress turned back to Lena and the Soldier. She raised her hands, clapping them together shortly before ordering Lena off the desk.

"Stand down, Soldat," Headmistress drilled. The large man stepped away from Lena, moving toward his handler at the other end of the room. At her superior's command, Lena hurried pulled her uniform back on, moving back to her seat where she kept her head down for the next three hours.

Every now and then throughout the lesson she would raise her head by a mere fraction, her eyes peering up through her thick fringe to one figure in particular, only to be met with the same steely blue eyes gaze.