Hey everyone! Got the next chapter up today! This time you won't have to wait nearly as long as before, because it seems so far that I got out of my Writer's Block there. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The following days after my punishment were awful during training. The Headmaster was even more brutal with his methods of teaching, which was a feat that I did not think possible. Thankfully, my improved skills helped me dodge his hard hits for often than before. Although, when he did manage to hit me, the punches and kicks killed. They left me dizzy and disoriented, giving me huge welts and torturous migraines. During these awful times, I was always tempted to use my flames against him. I was always tempted to melt his face with my flames fueled by an immense, burning hatred and grin a twisted, wolfish grin as I slowly peeled away the weakened skin and relished his spilled blood that would follow. . . I stopped my train of demented thoughts out of fear. My thoughts always seemed to scare me like this now. It was obvious that my mind had been so corrupted by this place that all I could think of was slowly and sadistically torturing my creator. And it frightened me. It was as if, in the back of my mind, all who I really was, all who I would really become, was this evil, emotionless, cruel, cold-hearted murderer. My mind was twisted, my heart was dark. Alik and Anya would disapprove of my nightmarish imaginations, but I couldn't help it. This place, this little piece of hell, was vastly changing me, ripping away my innocent mask of childhood and replacing it with only bloodlust and corruption.

However, the worst part of my training was not the brutal hits of the Headmaster, or my speedily draining sanity. The worst part of my training was the fact that the Headmaster was dead silent. He gave me absolutely no hints, no tips, not even a bit of praise. How was I supposed to know if I was improving when not even a single word escaped his lips? Despite this fact, I kept improving myself through practice in all of the fields I was trained in. The horrible months passed tediously, slowly turning themselves into years, and with each passing day I found my sanity slipping further and further away. My prison cell walls confirmed this for me. They were whispering behind my back, laughing at me, mocking my frazzled state. They even coldly scoffed and reminded me that no one celebrated my birthdays with me. How sad. The walls seemed to be my only companions, but they weren't very nice. They always said that I shouldn't have been born, but I couldn't help that. I couldn't shut them up, either, and just had to endure their harsh words. I had to ignore the dancing shadows that always tried to grab me and engulf me in their dark stomachs.

Soon, though, when I thought I would never see the end of training, a guard entered my room. It was the routine tradition of following the escort, but I was soon able to realize that the route had changed. I was nine at this time; my perception of my small world had changed greatly. No longer did I see it as a home, as a safe house, no longer did I see it with innocent, child eyes. I now knew that everything and everyone was against me, that the walls weren't safe with their constant changing, their constant state of closing in on me to crush my tiny body, the base was a cruel home for only the wicked to enjoy, and I dreaded that the outside world would most likely be just as dark, if not darker.

The guard led me down the winding corridors and up a few flights of stairs, leading to even more corridors. It was repetitive, and tedious, and everything looked the same as the floor I lived on. Would this place ever have something new and exciting to it? Would it ever have something nice, happy, and inviting instead of the usual dark, dreadful, corrupt world it normally was? I felt it was impossible at this point. I've been wandering in this hellhole for nine years, and training in its depths for three. Absolutely nothing had changed. The only thing that came and went were the people that lived in it, but I always remained, just like the walls. We kept walking a straight path down the halls until the guard opened the door to a large room with a huge screen exhibiting a map. I stared at the map in hidden awe. I had never seen a map before, and although I still couldn't read, for the Headmaster never felt like getting someone to teach me, I had the feeling that the largest country I saw on the map was Russia. My homeland was larger than I thought.

The Headmaster was seated at the head of a large, black table with his many generals and advisors sitting on either side of the table. The guard that had escorted me bowed briefly to the men sitting and left when he was dismissed. I only stood there, staring at the floor and avoiding eye contact. I didn't feel like getting in trouble again. "Ah, so this is the experiment," an old, wise looking man with graying hair said, "Brought from the deep bowels of the base."

The Headmaster simply nodded.

"She looks a bit too tiny to be this so-called 'ultimate weapon'," a younger man with black hair responded.

I clenched my fists slightly. Tiny, was it? Perhaps I should cut out that tongue of yours and fuse that idiotic mouth shut. Maybe, while I'm at it, I'll rip out your jugular and melt it to your face and watch you choke on your own blood. Would you still speak so arrogantly after such damage? I'd love to hear you scream in fear, in terror of my hellish flames as you slowly bleed to death. . . I blocked out the bickering of the counsel when I focused on the walls, hearing them talking and laughing at me and snapping me out of my demented thoughts.

"You are tiny, though," the metal wall to my left laughed.

I ignored her stupid voice; I wouldn't talk to them, not at all, because they would never shut up unless I ignored them. They couldn't best me, I had a brain, and they were only sheets of metal that fire could melt at the right temperature.

"More like a pipsqueak!" the stupid wall to the far end exclaimed. His response caused all of the others to laugh at me.

"And to think," the right wall added, "she was supposed to be a weapon to be used by Hydra. I bet they were quite disappointed when this little creature came to be the result of their efforts."

I clenched my fists tighter, staring at the floor I was standing on. I couldn't take any more of their mockery and broke my one rule, I talked to them, "Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" the end wall asked, "I couldn't hear you! Are you so weak that you're unable to speak up anymore?"

I was about to yell my answer to him, but the voice of the Headmaster addressing me brought me back to what the humans were saying. "Project Z, show them."

I snapped my head up, giving him an emotionless stare. I had learned by now that any form of emotion was bad. Emotions were weakness. I couldn't be weak. I had to show them I could be strong. I had to show everyone, the people, the animals, the walls, I had to show them all. "Hmm? What?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Show them your power," he repeated, "Your fire."

"Am I ready to demonstrate such things?" I asked.

"You are ready when I say so and I say that the time is now!" he responded, raising his voice slightly for emphasis, "Show them!"

I gave him a lifeless stare for a moment before nodding slowly, "Very well. . ." I held up my hand, the palm facing upward. I concentrated on my hand, and soon, a small flame appeared out of nowhere. I stared at it intently and the flames increased in size, creating a good sized fireball. I ignored the astonished stares of the men in the room as I moved the flames around, ignoring the temptation to graze everyone's hair with my flames and returned the fireball to my hand, letting it float for a bit. This was my only balm, my only friend. These flames inflicted feelings upon me that I did not feel when around other people. Excitement. They allured me; they danced to their deadly tunes and brought me in with them, speaking to me in ways that no one else would understand. It was as if the flames were alive. I stared into their calming light for a moment longer before finally extinguishing the flames. Once they were gone, and once I was devoid of their warmth, I crossed my arms and kept silent. I did not want to speak anymore.

"So, she can control these flames?" another man in the room asked, "Impressive. Does she know anything else?"

"Yes," the Headmaster replied, "I trained her personally."

"Do you think she's ready, though?" the young man with the black hair asked.

You think me inadequate again, foolish man? Truly, I shall show you how ready I am when I turn you into a charred corpse! I tensed my muscles to keep myself from flinging myself at the man. I really needed to keep my rage in check. At this rate, it would easily consume me.

"I believe she is," the Headmaster replied calmly.

"I do not think it wise to send a child on such an important mission," the older man with the graying hair inputted.

"As I said, I feel she's ready. But, you are right, it is completely foolish to send a mere child off to another country for such a task."

The man with the graying hair nodded, "Yes. Thank you for taking that into consideration."

"Which is why she will be escorted and under supervision by guards," the Headmaster finished.

"But sir," the man started to say.

"End of discussion."

I stood there in shocked silence at the whole thing. I'd finally get to go outside. I'd finally see the world outside of this wretched hellhole! I was both excited and overwhelmed. Would it be as wonderful as Anya had described? Or would it be as awful as the Hydra base I occupied? More importantly, what was this important mission that I was to be sent on? Was it extremely dangerous? Did the Headmaster just want to get rid of me? So many questions with so little answers, it frustrated me so.