i had been taken by the red room from an orphanage in london when i was four. the red room is all i had ever known. i could go from graceful pirouettes to tactfully taking down a twenty man squad without breaking a sweat. i had watched people i had considered as acquaintances be killed mercilessly infront of my own eyes. everyday was the same, practice, practice, practice. i had killed more people than i could count before i was fifteen. yelena was the name of a girl i considered the closest thing to a friend you can get in here, we never spoke of what we were before the red rooms conditioning, mostly because we didn’t know. i was seventeen now, and waiting for a mission to be delegated to me.