── ULTRAVIOLENCE
The Chess Piece. Prologue

CASSIOPEIA peaked her head around the corner, her large, childish eyes scanning the room before her. The walls and floors were painted a bright, unnatural and unnerving white. Her fingers tightened around the corner of the wall as she peered into the room she'd been demanded to leave. As she watched her, Anderson spoke to people unfamiliar to the young girl.

Despite being ordered to return to her room, she couldn't help but linger, tuning into them as they spoke.

Their tone was hushed, but Cassiopeia could hear each word spoken. From within the hallway out side of the room, she strained her ears to listen closely as they spoke.

"She's a child, Paris." The woman in front of Paris said. She was fit and, despite the fact the child couldn't see much of her face, she just knew the woman was beautiful. She wore shoes that made her great bit taller and her hair was long, dark and smooth. Her arms were crossed, her tone disappointed in the Commander that stood before her.

The man Cas assumed to be her husband nodded in agreement, but otherwise stayed silent. It was as if though he was there for nothing but support, watching as his wife spoke to Anderson.

"I'm well aware of the fact she's a child, but she's just as much of a weapon as she is your offspring." Anderson hissed. His eyes narrow, his tone becoming impatient.

"When we agreed for you to take her, we thought you'd treat her well- not like some chess piece." The woman spoke up. Cas rose an eyebrow as they spoke, unsure who the conversation was centered around.

She peaked further into the room the best she could without being seen. She wanted to get a good look at who it was Anderson spoke to, but they faced away from her, Cas not seeing much more than the side profile.

"When have you ever cared how she was treated?" Paris Spat. His nose scrunched as he spoke in disgust. "Besides, weapons need sharpened before use."

"She's not a weapon, Paris." The other man finally spoke. He took a step forward, but Cassiopeia still couldn't see much of his appearance. He then lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's a child. And your going to kill her before you have the chance to even use her-"

"Bold of you to assume your child is the weak." Anderson says, raising his eyebrows. "She just needs a push in the right direction."

"Right," the man agrees. "A push- not a shove of a freaking cliff."

Paris pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. "What changed?" He finally asked after a moment of silence. "Why do you suddenly care about how your children are treated? You never did before. Hell- you gave her away."

"Because she was put in your hands, Paris." The woman responds, shaking her head. She crosses her arms, and turns every so slightly to the left, allowing for Cas to get a good look. She was stunning. Her face was sharp and her eyes were cold- her lips were plump and her cheeks pink. She runs a hand through her hair before turning back to Paris. "Anyone else and we wouldn't have given her away."

"And your other kids?" Paris asks.

Silence settles for a moment, tension rising in the room. Even out in the hall, the atmosphere seems suffocating. Cas waits for a moment then retreats from the corner, placing her back to the wall.

The seven year old let out a breath, waiting patiently for voices to start up again. She ran her sweaty palms against her paint legs and let out a sigh. As she waited to face the speakers again, she thought of who they could possibly be talking about.

"If you want to keep her then you stop treating her like an object." She peered around the corner again at the sound of voices.

"I'm sorry?" Paris asked, lifting an eyebrow. When nobody says anything he pinches the bridge of his nose "She needs conditioned- just as my son does."

"We're not talking about conditioning, Paris." The woman hisses. "We couldn't care less if she earns scars because of you- we're talking about you trying to force her powers and drain her of them. You're jumping into this too fast."

"Too fast?" Anderson mocked. Fury suddenly fills his expression. He clenches his first at his side, taking a step forward in a threatening manner.

Rather than moving, the woman stood a hand up, stopping then man from going any further.

"Yes. If she loses her powers then there is nothing we can do if our plan doesn't work. If-"

She glances the direction of the hall.

Anderson shouts, not noticing the change in her gaze. His words go unheard by Cas, too focused on pressing her back against the wall again to avoid being seen. Her eyebrows furrow as she retreats, no longer tuning into the conversation. What plan?

The girl shakes her head, dismissing the thought, then in one swift movement she turns to the left, ready to make her way down the hall and to the room she'd been demanded to retreat to. But as she goes to take off, she runs straight into a barrier.

She freezes, slowly looking up.

And as she feels a hand wrap tightly around her shoulder, she looks up to meet the eyes of Anderson.

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So I made the last minute decision to change her name from Cassandra to Cassiopeia. If you see Cassandra, please disregard this.

-Kaitlyn