Prologue - Trouble

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"Girls will be girls madam" Three would snark, a wide grin across her face as she tilted her head slightly to the side, eyeing the dark haired woman who sat across the table from her.

She observed her reaction to her words, watching as the woman's nose scrunched in disbelief, adjusting her posture as she sat up straighter, leaning forward and placing her hands in the centre of the table.

"Three. I'm going to be honest with you." Madam Loverquitch, the leader of the skeme, would say in almost a calm tone. Which was unusual for the current situation, since Three has stretched way further this time, causing a very interesting disruption at the training match this afternoon.

Three nodded her head slightly, as a signal that she was listening.

"We're sick of your shit," The mistress said abruptly, causing Threes jaw to practically drop.

What did that mean?

"You're out of here by morning." The woman would finish her sentence, leaning back in her chair again as she kept eye contact with the young girl before her.

What?!

Everything was happening so fast. Zero to one hundred way too fast. Was she being serious?

"Out of here? Where will I go? You can't just leave me to die-" Three began to protest, almost in a panic. They couldn't just kick her out, she was a child.

"We aren't going to leave you to die, and even if we did kick you out, you seem to refuse to die. It's a shame we have to let you go Three, you really are an excellent fighter." Madam Loverquitch replied, quickly shutting down Three's absurd ideas.

"Then where am I going?" Three's voice would quiet, almost afraid of the defined woman's response.

"We've traded you to the Fireflies, for supplies that will make our corporation stronger. So if you think about it this way, you're helping us build up our strengths and we'll always think of you when we use such supplies."

Three's nose scrunched. There was no way they could just get rid of her like that. She wouldn't let them do this to her.

She didn't care about their fucking supplies.

Yeah, she was a troublemaker. And yeah she hated it here but she didn't know what was beyond the walls of the training zones.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. There's no way I'll just leave this shithole and go live with a bunch of randos?" She'd spit, clearly growing in anger.

"Young lady, do not speak to me that way. I'm not asking for your say on this matter. After this afternoon, you don't have a place here anymore. Three, we can't keep excusing you. Go pack your bags, you're leaving tomorrow at dawn."

The woman pushed herself up and out of her fine leather chair, walking around the table, waiting for the girl to follow.

Three just watched her in disbelief, observing as Madam Loverquitch opened her office door, beginning to wave her out.

"You'll regret this. Just you watch" Three would basically hiss, smacking her hands on her chair handles and standing up, storming past the lady, turning to face her one last time.

"Sure I will, dear."

The door shut. Leaving Three outside the office alone with her thoughts, turning and beginning to trail down the hall.

Her eyes fixed on the ground, her hands slipping into the pockets of her maroon hoodie.

What had just happened? What was happening?

What the was she even going to do? She wasn't going to go live with those nasty Fireflies, she'd heard stories about them. No way.

𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 & 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 || ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍsWhere stories live. Discover now