THE DOOR SWUNG AS INGA ARRIVED BACK TO THE OTHERWISE SILENT apartment, but I made no move to acknowledge her, nor did I plan on it. If she needed me, well, it wasn't as if I had anywhere to be. I would be right where I had been for a long while at that point; scribbling out vaguely written answers to broad problems that never seemed to have the right solution.

I was not a writer; of all the skills I had learned at the Red Room, writing was not one of them. It took me much longer to share the thoughts pushing at my mind in the form of a letter and make them sound both true and factual; there had to be some form of happy balance of fact and sensibility, and so far, I was failing on both levels.

My hand automatically adjusted to hide the smudging letter under the stacks of homework just before Inga walked in, leaving me to sit among the stacks of textbooks and somehow look more innocent than before. "Yes?"

"We're training now." She seemed impatient and slightly off like she was just hassled for something. What it was that was making her upset, I would never know, but that didn't stop the curiosity. "Hurry up."

She was lucky I was already prepared and wearing the workout attire she gave to me. I immediately rose and, tucking the letters and books away, followed her out into the empty room. It was, I mused, a miracle she had taken care of the noise, else the sounds would surely freak out any neighbours we head. While the building was only half full, there were still people who would surely worry. I didn't like our training, but I'd rather that then arrest warrants.

"This time," she said, tossing short waves of hair back off her face, "you're going to try, aren't you? I'm not eager in fighting a useless worm today, not like all those other times."

"I-"

"-let's see what little strength you have left in you, Freya Knight."

Her words struck a nerve I hadn't known existed in my body - or simply one I tried not to acknowledge - and a fury built in my veins. She had a point, as I hadn't tried last time, but the others times I knew I had put up a fight. My training had never been in vain, though she made it seem that way each and every time she spoke to me. I tried not to let her careless comment get to me, but it was getting harder and harder as I stood there, the only sounds coming from huffs of stale air and my heartbeat pounding louder and louder. It angered me to a degree I hadn't even known possible - it made me want to hurt her, not just win the battle. It made me feel almost...powerful.

Inga took her place a few feet away and began to watch me with a cool and calculating gaze. "Are you-"

She wouldn't finish her sentence, for in an instant I was lunging forward, taking control and knocking her to the ground with all my force. Not hesitating for a second, I threw punch after punch, rolling away with a newfound strength coursing through my bones. In an instant she had turned from a teacher to an enemy, leaving me hitting harder and faster than I ever had with her before. I wasn't sure where the stream of angry confidence came from, but it made me lose my care and gain a maniacal lust for watching her fall.

She didn't seem to take offence to this but instead seemed to relish it, grinning as we twisted and whirled on hardwood floors. She didn't throw any hits but blocked and spun away with a grace only exuded by a Russian spy. "Come on - you've got better than that, don't you?"

I flipped her arm off of mine and snarled. My leg flew out, sending her crashing to the floor, but leaving me winded and gasping when she sent a fist to my gut. I fell when she collided with me once more and Inga swooped in to seize her advantage. I still fought, but she had gotten control, and within minutes she was holding me to the ground, nails digging into bony wrists and a smile decorating red lips.

My breath fell in short, shallow pants as I fought to suck in air. I gritted my teeth as her bare foot stunk into the flesh on my arm, causing pain to race up it and into my bruising torso, but I fought the urge to cry out. "You...win."

"Good job." Her words, this time, were not sardonic, but sincere; she fell off of me and even gave an approving nod. "See? This is what you needed; when you actually try, you unlock all of this. And who knows? Maybe one day, you'll beat me."

I stood up shakily and wiped at my clothes, unsure what to do next. I felt the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, but it was fainter than before, leaving me with a weary anger that did nothing but irritate me. I had never fought like that, save when at the Red Room; never before had Inga been a true opponent and not my superior, and never before had I felt the anger and maniacal desire to make her bleed then I had not a minute earlier. It was a strange feeling, one I didn't despise, but rather simply did not understand.

"Why are you still standing there?"

My eyes rose to stare at her blankly. "What?"

"You're standing there looking like an idiot; do something."

My tongue darted out, licking cracked lips and making them sting slightly from unexpected moisture. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, or what I wanted to do, so I stood awkwardly to the side, feeling the adrenaline leak out of my bones. It left me weary and bruised and as though sleep was the best solution to the pain coursing through wild rivers under the skin.

Inga had seemingly blocked me out at this point, turning away to grab her phone to make a phone call - either that, or she didn't care anymore what I saw or did. She sank into a nearby chair and sighed to herself, anxious to hear the answer she would get on the other end. Whatever that would be, I wasn't sure, but at least I could piece something together through her answers.

"Are you prepared?" She said slowly as if she was talking to a child on the other end - though her tone didn't make me think it was such. "As fast as possible, preferably - I just realised the time. Yes - no - yes, now. Hurry."

Her words meant little to nothing to me; while I could assume, I would have no idea who she was talking to and what she was talking about. However, I still could guess, and guess I did; it wasn't hard to know that it was something correlating to the events of our 'capture' of Peter Parker, that much was obvious. It could be someone I had met, like the man who had pierced my skin with a needle and said 'everything would be alright', or it could be the lightning-man hybrid the boy called Electro, or someone totally different, someone I had never met before-

"-Why the hell are you still standing there?"

My gaze immediately snapped back to her, once more, and I opened my mouth, but no words fell out. Instead, I stood awkwardly as she stepped closer, now seeming much angrier than she had been not minutes before - a strange turn, seeing how elated she had been after our fight. "My conversations are not your conversations, Freya. Realise that."

"Yes," I muttered, dipping away from her fiery eyes. "Of course. But..."

"But what?"

My mouth, like always, betrayed me, and I spoke before I could catch myself. "You know Electro, do you not? It's just a trap, like the other things you set up - just like me, right?"

Inga's eyes narrowed once more, but this time, they were clouded with confusion, not rage. "What are you asking me? Who is Electro?"

"The man - the lightning man, that's a trick, just like everything else, right?"

She stepped back, unsure how to answer, judging by the looks in her eyes. She seemed to be puzzled, or surprised - or, perhaps, in a state of almost awe at my words. "You do not know what you are talking about. Believe me."

"But I do," I persisted - for while I regretted my decision to speak, it was too late to go back now. "I know who he is, sort of. Was that him? The man on the phone? Is he the one who is running this whole thing?"

"You do not-"

"-I have a right to know-"

"-no. You have a right to nothing," she hissed, gripping the back of the chair she previously sat on, a new found rage causing her body to tremble. "Freya, you have no rights; you are a child, and moreover, you are under my wing here. If you need information, I give it to you, not the other way around. Stop asking questions and do something with your time."

My nail jutted into my skin and cracked open a small sore, causing me to wince. "What if I just gave in now? What if I ran and told the world the truth? What if I ran and spilt that you're trying to make me commit murder with you and every other little secret buried in your scars? I could, you know. It would so easy."

"You'd be dead in seconds."

"You would be, too, and your entire plan would be over. If you don't tell me, I'll tell the world."

It was a stupid threat; she could have me down on the ground in seconds, and I'd be no closer to exposing her then I was minutes before. However, I knew that it gave me a levy, one I relished and accepted completely, turning from a sloppy defence to a double-edged sword poking at the creamy underside of her throat. A wrong move and things could go horribly wrong, but that was logic that could be applied to both of us.

"No, that was not - you do not know the caller." Inga's finger traced a delicate design on the top of the chair not, swirling the fabric absent-mindedly. "You have no idea who they are."

"Will you tell me?"

"No."

A tense silence fell upon us as I debated my decision carefully. I wanted to know who it was, but making Inga angry wasn't high on my priority list, and I didn't want to die now - not while I had things to do. "Okay."

She stared at me curiously, her expression unreadable as I continued, "he's the end, isn't he? The man with lightning - he's a part of this all, isn't he?"

"He's not with us." Inga hesitated once more. "He's just here to...help."

Her words may not have been clear as a picture, but for me, it was all the information I needed; her hesitation and slowly-forming words gave the answer I had been looking for. "Okay."

"Is that the end of your questioning?"

My tongue pressed the top of my mouth as I debated my answer. "No, but that's all you're going to tell me, is it not? What is the point of my questions if they'll amount to nothing?"

"Yes. I'd advise you to drop the topic." She reached down to grab a small box before pulling a familiar needle out of it. "Sit down. I might as well do this now if you so insist on shadowing."

I watched with narrowed eyes as she prepared the concoction she had been injecting me with every day since the first trip. I had no idea what it was, or what it was supposed to do to me; the only strange thing I had felt was more anger, but with the constant struggles that had been plaguing me for weeks, that didn't seem to be anything more than a coincidence. Whatever it was, however, it was important, as it was always at the same time every day and Inga always made sure to get the dose perfect. If I knew what was being pumped into my skin, I could perhaps understand why, but as it was I was simply irritated.

The tip bit into my skin, but it was an invisible pain and one I grew accustomed to and began to ignore. Instead, I simply watched her firm hands press the needle into my arm with surgeon-like precision, no tremor visible in the stone-cold figure. "What is this going to do to me?"

"Hold still."

"I am. What does this do to me?"

She didn't look up and even as she turned, her eyes remained on the floor and the objects in her hands. "It is just preparation."

"For what?"

Inga didn't speak for a long minute, and I almost worried that at any second she'd whirl around and stab the needle into my neck for my insubordination. However, she finally moved and leant against another chair. "For when we return to the Academy. They are trying a new technique that makes it easier for one to graduate."

"Oh."

Those words made no sense to me, not truly. I only knew vaguely of the infamous 'graduation ceremony', and that stemmed from rumours and gossiped shared between my old classmates as we waited patiently to be led away. Everyone had seemed to have a very different idea of what the final task was, and none of them seemed to be right - especially after finding out it involved a needle pumping strange chemicals into my body because of a 'new technique'. I supposed she could be lying to me, but it didn't seem like she was; Inga, for once, seemed sincere, to some sort of degree.

As I headed away, limbs twinging with both old and new pain, I realised that it would not really matter much what they were doing to me. After all, I wouldn't ever make it far enough to find out.

I know this is a strange chapter - it's sort of a shaky explanation to her situation, but it's vague [for a reason] and sort of just shows her in pain like always because I'm so mean to my poor smol. As we get closer to the final chapter [eight more, people!] you'll learn more and more about her and what they're doing to her and why. Some of it ties into the graduation ceremony, yes, so you might know about that already but there are key elements that follow that graduating point but not completely. I don't know if that even makes sense but it's somewhat an explanation.

I've realised that this story will officially end on December 22nd [if I keep my same schedule] which means essentially, this story will end just before Christmas and be your early Christmas [sad] present. I'm not a fan of Christmas but for some reason that tickled me that it will end like that, so that's from me to you, happy holidays here's a tragic story coming to an end.

Thank you for reading!