"Father, why do you always teach Lex and Luke how to hunt? Is it necessary that only a man could be a good hunter?"" Laila remembered asking as a child, pouting because she wanted to explore the forest with them.
Back then, her father had agreed to take her along.
Not to teach her how to hunt.
But to teach her something far more fundamental.
How to kill.
...
"Haah... haah..."
The body beneath her trembled violently, growing weaker with every passing second, yet Laila never loosened her grip.
One hand clamped over Mila's mouth, muffling every scream, while the other slowly drew a blade across her throat. A deep crimson line opened beneath the edge, and warm blood poured from the wound.
Mila thrashed desperately.
Of course she did.
Anyone would struggle when their life was being stolen.
Laila could feel Mila's hands trapped beneath her knees.
The very same hands that had prepared dinner for her last night.
