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A harsh hand landed on my shoulder, pushing me forward. Over the weeks I’d spent alone, I’d had a lot of time to think and had done nothing but that. My thoughts had started to drive me insane, but I hadn’t had a single idea how to put a stop to this.
I was unpleasantly surprised that the guards weren’t taking me to my father’s study, or to see any of my brothers. Instead, they took me to the basement of Father’s house, which was just as spacious as the house itself.
This was my first time inside, and all I wanted was to scream and beg for them to let me go. It wasn’t dark, but the smell made me want to vomit. It looked like an old hospital hallway, with patient rooms on each side.
“Move it,” one of the guards commanded before he pushed me yet again towards the door on the left side, all the way at the end of the long corridor.
The door swung open, and I was shoved inside before the door locked behind me.
I bit my tongue harshly to prevent a scream from slipping out, and I tasted blood in my mouth. Immediately, I hid my hands behind my back. They were shaking uncontrollably, and I tried to put off the moment he noticed. I couldn’t allow myself to be taken back to the prison.
My father wore all black. He had a pair of leather gloves on, and my eyes traveled to the left one. A small whimper escaped my lips, my eyes threatening to tear up.
On the left side was a man, who’d been forced to his knees. His arms were bound behind his back, and he had a black bag over his head. He was shivering, muffled noises coming from beneath the bag.
“Do you know why you’re here, Ekaterina?” my father asked, voice raised.
I shook my head.
His voice grew even louder. “Words, Ekaterina, words.”
“N-No.” I closed my eyes as soon as the stuttering slipped out. My bottom lip quivered, and a small tear escaped. I braced myself for the blow that was bound to come.
“I’ll ignore that pathetic stuttering because we are about to fully shape you into the person you should’ve been born as.”
Slowly, he lifted the bag from the man’s head and tossed it aside. The man was gagged with tape, his eyes swollen. Tears freely streamed down his face. He tried to squirm, free himself somehow, but it was pointless.
“Do you know this man?” my father asked.
Forcefully, I detached my gaze and looked at my father. Evil like I’d never seen before flashed behind his eyes. I took a small step back, terrified. I was no longer able to control the fear that had overcome my body, mind, and soul.
When I remained silent, his lips thinned into a line, a vein popping out on his neck. He gave me a knowing look.
I swallowed harshly—my throat seemed to have closed. With a shaky breath, I shook my head and weakly responded, “No.”
A smile spread over my father’s face. It was nothing but vile, terrible, and wicked. He pushed the man, who fell to the ground with a thud. Another muffled scream came from him, but he was too weak to defend himself or stand up.
“Go and pick a gun of your choice.” It wasn’t a request—it was a command. He pointed with his eyes to the right.
It took me a minute to force my legs to move. I couldn’t think straight, because a part of me knew what he wanted me to do; I just refused to believe it. My legs felt wobbly, and the moment my back was turned to my father, tears streamed down my face.
I was petrified, and I was disgusted. I couldn’t find the strength to yell, to scream. Lord knew what he would’ve done to me if I’d been too loud. I blinked, but the tears never stopped. My hand trembled as I reached for the first gun I’d seen.
The weapon felt heavy in my hands, and I almost dropped it in shock. My stomach twisted and turned in agony that I would never be allowed to display. My father had told me I was going to be a weapon, and weapons didn’t weep.
“Any time now, Ekaterina.”
His deep voice shattered my soul.
I turned around, and an expression of pure fury twisted his features when he saw my tear-stained face. My eyes were puffy, my lips bruised from biting on them harshly, and I was barely moving—inch by inch, slow steps, until I returned to my previous spot.
“Now, I want you to look into this man’s eyes.” He grabbed the poor man and pulled him back up, holding his head still. There was nothing but fear and misery on his face as he tried to shake his head, silently begging me not to listen to my father. “And I want you to shoot him right between them.”
I raised my hand, and it was shaking as if we’d been hit by an earthquake.
“I taught you how to take the safety off.”
I saw the memory clearly. I’d refused to do it, and then he’d taken me to a room that had nothing but a chair inside. The chair had been enormous, made out of wood. It had restraints on it, and it didn’t take me long to understand that I’d be sitting in it.
