Taken

The Brave Girls

Six-year-old Alexa swung her backpack over her shoulder, skipping down the school steps. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in warm hues of orange and pink. She was excited to get home—her mother had promised to make her favorite meal tonight.

A group of kids blocked her path near the school gate. She knew them. They always teased her for being small, for speaking up when others wouldn't. Today, they weren't just teasing.

"Move," she said, pushing past them.

One of the boys grabbed her backpack strap. "Or what?"

Anger flared inside her. She yanked it away and shoved him hard. He stumbled back, his friends laughing at his embarrassment. The laughter didn't last long. The boy lunged at her, and soon they were all pushing and pulling, fists flying.

Then, suddenly—**a hand clamped over her mouth.**

Her body went rigid. The grip was strong, an arm looping around her waist, lifting her off the ground. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled against the palm pressed to her lips.

The last thing she saw was the kids staring, their faces frozen in shock, before she was dragged into a waiting black van. The door slammed shut.

### **Darkness and Fear**

Alexa's heart pounded as the vehicle sped away. Her hands were bound, and a thick cloth covered her eyes. The air inside was stale, mixed with the faint scent of leather and something metallic.

"Stay quiet," a low voice ordered.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but the van eventually stopped. Strong hands pulled her out. The blindfold remained, but the sound of rushing wind filled her ears. She was led up steps, then pushed into a seat. The hum of an engine rumbled beneath her.

She was on a plane.

The blindfold was yanked off. Harsh lights burned her eyes, making her blink rapidly. Around her, she saw other girls—some younger, some older. All of them looked terrified.

A man in a suit stood in front of them, his expression cold. "Welcome. You belong to us now."

The words sent a chill through her spine.

No one was coming to save them.

Chapter 2: The Flight to Nowhere

The hum of the plane's engines vibrated through Alexa's bones. She sat stiffly in her seat, her bound hands resting on her lap. Her breathing was uneven, shallow—**she was trying not to panic.**

The blindfold had been removed, but the feeling of suffocation remained. Around her, other girls sat in identical seats, their faces painted with the same fear she felt. Some looked younger than her, their small frames shaking as they silently cried. Others were older, sitting tensely, their eyes darting around, searching for an escape that didn't exist.

Alexa's throat was dry, but she forced herself to speak. "Where are we going?" Her voice came out small, almost swallowed by the drone of the engines.

A girl beside her, maybe eight or nine, turned her tear-streaked face toward Alexa. "I want to go home," she whispered. Her dark curls stuck to her damp cheeks, and she sniffled.

Alexa wanted to say something, anything, to make her feel better—but what could she say when she didn't even know what was happening?

Then—**a sharp voice cut through the murmurs.**

"Silence."

A tall man in a suit stood at the front of the cabin. He had sharp features and an expression as cold as ice. His hands were clasped behind his back, his stance rigid and commanding. The moment he spoke, the crying stopped. Even the girls who had been shaking with fear froze.

"You are here because you were chosen." His voice was deep, emotionless. "Your past no longer matters. Your families will forget you. You will forget them. From now on, you belong to us."

A chill ran through Alexa's spine. **Forget? What did he mean?**

The man took slow steps down the aisle, his polished shoes clicking against the metal floor. He studied the girls like they were objects rather than human beings.

"You are nothing right now," he continued. "Weak. Useless." He stopped in front of a girl who looked about ten. "But that will change. You will be trained, shaped into something greater. If you survive."

His words sent a ripple of tension through the cabin.

**If you survive?**

Alexa felt her fingers dig into her palms. Her body was shaking, not just with fear—but with something else. **Anger.**

She didn't want to sit here, helpless. She didn't want to be weak. She had fought before—at school, against those boys. She had won. She could fight again.

The man stopped beside Alexa's row and glanced at her. His eyes were cold, calculating. He leaned in slightly.

"You will learn quickly," he murmured. "Or you will be discarded."

Then he straightened and continued walking.

Discarded. The word echoed in Alexa's mind. She didn't know exactly what he meant, but she could guess.

She swallowed hard. *'She had to survive.*'

But how?