Disclaimer: I do not own MGLN but my girlfriend reckons she should!

Author's Notes: Thank you so very much to Redmoon021, Ris aeto btheta and to Guest for your wonderful words and to all those following as well as those who added my story as a favourite. You all inspire me to keep writing. Thank you!

I hope you all enjoy Chapter 5.

Warning mild swearing and violence in this chapter.


Chapter 5

Pain

Fate's POV.

"You are so fucking useless" she shouts as she retracts her hand and punches me on the right side of my face. My face jerks violently to the side as blood escapes a newly created cut on my lip. I momentarily lose my footing at the impact and land on my hands and knees. My hair covers my face acting like a protective barrier, a useless one, erected too late.

"I give you one God damned thing to do and you fuck up. You know? Deep down I know that you love this kind of attention. I know because you silently beg for it every time you fuck up. You and I are the same, we crave attention, and we demand discipline" she laughs whilst pulling out a rag from a pocket of her lab coat to clean my blood stain from her hand. "Don't you have something to tell me?"

"I am sorry" I flatly reply. At this she stops, throws the rag on the floor and kneels down to my level. With her right hand she picks up my chin in a familiar motion I hate so much and forces me to look into her eyes. I do not recognise this person any more. I do not recognise myself anymore through the reflection of her cold eyes that have become mine as well.

Mother smirks and stands up. I look up at her. She suddenly scowls at me and kicks me in the rib cage. Taken by surprise I am slightly lifted off the ground and land on my side. The wind knocked out of me as I try to inhale the substance that keeps me living but not alive. I cough violently. The pain floods my body. It takes a few moments but I regain my senses. I am lying on my good side hands clutching my chest.

"Expect the unexpected! Remember your training." She says as she watches me struggling then walks out of my room and towards the cold concrete courtyard. I look at mother wondering how we all ended up like this. I hear her inhale deeply then watch her as she turns around stretching her arms and walks back towards me.

"Why must you be so gentle with the targets? They mock people like us, they look down on us. You know the truth in your heart. Succumb to your dark desires Fate. It is your destiny. You were chosen by the Project. You should be grateful you were picked. It is a chance people kill for." Mother says to me as if that should answer all my questions. "Don't you want to make me happy? Don't you want me to be happy?" She rhetorically asks with a practiced saddened expression.

I want to make you happy, more than anything but I have lost myself in the process.

"What are you Fate?"

"Your loyal servant."

"And what is your purpose?"

"To obey" I reply automatically to our well rehearsed speech.

Mother smirks at this "That's my good girl. You WILL obey me my darling daughter." She says as she pulls keys out of the same pocket of her lab coat that that dirty rag came from. She steps over me and walks to the other side of the room towards the imposing steel door that leads out into the research facility.

"You will be given specifics to your next mission tomorrow. And remember I love you Fate!" She throws the last part out so naturally and carelessly while inserting the key into the lock and turning it. The steel door opens with a deafening creek as she steps out and is shut firmly with a thud behind her.

In the darkness I lie. I lie on the cold strangely reassuring concrete floor looking outside at the courtyard, looking at nothingness. My head takes comfort in the cool feeling. My lip has stopped bleeding. My ribs are sore but not broken. I breathe in and out, in and out. The pain is a reminder that I am living. In the darkness I notice the raven. At some stage it must have discreetly returned. Why would it come back when I can't leave? Maybe to mock me in my current situation, to add salt to my wounds. It saunters around in its walk hop manner. My eyes follow the birds every movement. My body does not move, cannot move. The burning sensation in my eyes reminds me I have to blink.

The bird explores every inch of my cage. I watch. Suddenly the raven catches movement from the corner of its white eye and takes flight. The creature snatches something then returns to the ground. In its powerful beak I catch a glimpse of wings frantically fluttering for freedom, fluttering for life. The raven holds on to the moth flaunting its control. Then as suddenly as the moth is alive it is dead and eaten. Life's just like that. Only the strong and fortunate survive, preying on the weak. The raven takes one last look at me to make sure I see and takes flight leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I get up and stagger my way outside to where the raven took off from. I wipe the almost dry blood trail on my chin from my lip with my sleeve and hand. I look down at the same hand. I love the crimson colour of blood. It is such a vibrant and powerful colour. It is matching the burning sun that is slowly starting to rise giving the impression it is born from the Earth breaking its skin and bleeding as it takes its place in the sky. I like to pretend that the seemingly foreign passionate confident colour coursing through this body still belongs to me. Something I haven't given away, something they haven't claimed…yet!

I watch the sun a moment longer. My gaze lingers over the vast expanse of virgin land that belongs I assume to Jail, to the fading light of the city in the distance. My room, my cage has no bars. I will not escape. It is set on top of this ugly imposing building we all know as the Fortress. I have a courtyard. A cold empty courtyard. A privilege I earned. I glance back at the sun, the red is fading into orange and yellow. I hear the birds starting to stir in the morning light, singing their dawn chorus. I turn around away from the promise of a bright day and head through the doors leading to my dark room. I shut them behind me and draw the curtains closed blocking the sun's rays from reaching me. I do not need to see. I know were my bed is. No furniture stands in my way. The Project's decoration style is minimalist: a bed, a sink, a toilet, a shower and a surveillance camera. No room for distractions. No room for privacy for I am owned by the Project. I reach the bed and ease my body onto it. I stare at the ceiling for a moment. I hope I won't dream. I close my eyes and drift off…

To be continued…