Later that night, the orphanage had always been a place of quiet suffering, where children learned not to hope too much, not to dream beyond their beds and the cold meals they were given. After all this was a place where the rejects and homeless belonged.
But tonight, suffering took a different form.
The orphanage was never truly silent, but tonight, something felt different. The air was thick with tension, an unspoken warning that something was coming. August sat on her bed, listening to the distant sounds of the city beyond the walls.
It started with the distant shattering of glass.
Then, the chaos erupted.
Doors slammed open. Shouts rang through the halls. Heavy boots thundered against the wooden floors. The older girls screamed, scrambling in panic. The younger ones huddled together, too frightened to move.
Then came the heavy footsteps, the muffled screams, the frantic rustling of sheets as girls woke to the horror unfolding around them. The dormitory doors flew open, and masked figures stormed inside, their silhouettes monstrous against the flickering hallway lights.
August didn't move. She lay still under her thin blanket, watching, calculating, she wasn't the scared type. This was the opportunity she was waiting for her whole life.
The others scrambled, pushing against one another in a desperate attempt to escape. But there was nowhere to run. The men grabbed them in handfuls, dragging them from their beds and shoving them toward the exit.
August felt the cold grip of a hand on her wrist.
August found herself dragged from her bed, her small frame no match for the towering figure that gripped her arm.
She twisted.
"Feisty," the man grunted, yanking her forward. His breath was thick with alcohol, his strength effortless against her small frame.
She didn't scream. Screaming was for the weak. She didn't fight - yet. She let herself be pulled through the halls, let herself be stuffed into the back of the truck with the rest of the stolen girls, the truck was much better than the orphanage anyway. She prayed for something like this to happen, what she wanted to do could not be done while locked up in an orphanage . She sat motionless, listening to the whimpering, the quiet prayers whispered into the dark.
Then she spoke.
"You should have been quieter," she said, her voice cutting through the silence.
The nearest man snapped his gaze to her, a mixture of amusement and surprise. "What?"
"You were too loud," August continued, staring at him with unreadable eyes. "Breaking the glass alerted the caretakers before you got in. If you had disabled the alarms first, there would've been no rush. No panic."
The man smirked. "Is that so?"
August tilted her head. "You attack without thinking. You're sloppy. If I were running this, no one would have noticed until morning."
One of the men laughed. "Listen to the little strategist."
But the man closest to her - the one with sharp eyes and a lean build - did not laugh. He watched her.
"You talk like you know something," he murmured, shifting closer. "You sound like you've seen this before."
August met his gaze, unflinching. "I've seen what happens when people underestimate me." she smirked thinking of one time her father made her do something for him, she remembered the sympathy people showed her not knowing shit is about to hit the fan.
A beat of silence passed. The other girls trembled, shrinking into themselves, but August did not shrink. Dangerous zones were her favorite kind of games.
The man leaned in. "You think you're smart, little one?"
"I know I am," August replied.
His smirk widened. "Smart enough to be useful."
You're too calm," he muttered, leaning against the cold metal wall. "Most kids cry."
August turned her gaze toward him, her voice quiet but unwavering. "Crying doesn't change anything."
The man chuckled, though there was something uneasy about it. He has seen kids but this one... Was different, he could not compliment her bravery cause certainly no child can stay this calm while pretending. This one was used to this kind of life. "You got a sharp tongue for a kid."
August tilted her head slightly, as if analyzing him. "You raid places like this often?"
His brows furrowed. "What's it to you?"
August shrugged with an annoyed look on her face. "I just think it's inefficient. Too many witnesses, too much noise. If you want real gain, it has to be controlled. Strategic."
The other men exchanged amused glances, but the one watching her didn't laugh. He leaned forward. "You think you know how this works?"
"I know how people work," August replied. "How trust can be manipulated. If you make them trust you, they hand over everything willingly. You don't need violence."
Silence filled the truck for a moment. The man studied her, something shifting behind his gaze.
"You got a dangerous mind for a kid," he said finally.
August didn't blink. "I know." her whole being screamed dangerous. Life had already played an unfair card at her.
A slow smirk spread across his lips. "You might be more useful than I thought."
"I'll be useful but it comes with a great price" she said analyzing their faces. In her mind she was building her army, playing mind games on them would be very easy, already they using the most stupid techniques to conduct a simple robbery.
'funny how I just became more than just another stolen child' August thought in her mind trying so hard to not let out an evil laugh. She had begun playing the dangerous game-and she would make sure she won. And for the first time since her uncle's betrayal, she saw the opportunity to turn her misfortune into something she could control.
This wasnt about revenge anymore.. It was personal yes, but she had something in mind. Revenge was for the weak she planned on doing more damage that would make people beg for death. Innocent or not she did not care anymore.
As the truck rumbled she sat still, her mind racing through every possible scenario. She assessed the men-six of them, all armed, all tense. But one stood apart. He was leaner, his movements more calculated than the others. His eyes flickered toward her, curiosity creeping into his expression, his features did not scare her, she saw worse.
The question was who was fooling who here?