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The gun was heavy and big in Bambina's hand, her arm would ache every time she held it too long.

Padre had just placed the thick pistol in her hands, the gun was larger than her whole hand.

"Bambina, I love you, you know that, si?" Her padre leant down to her level, hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.

"Si, I do," she nodded her head.

Standing up, he took a small booklet out of one of the soldier's hands and opened it, beginning to read aloud, "House, automobile, sunset, daisy, trophy, coaster, window, volcano." Closing the book with a loud thud, he looked up at his daughter.

Bambina's back was straight, her head high and attentive, shoulders rolled back. With eyes as glassy and empty as a window that looked into an empty cell room, the usual smile wasn't present on her face, in its place, a straight line that transferred no emotions.

"Follow me 524," turning around abruptly, he began to lead Bambina into an unknown place.

Opening the always locked basement door, he flicked a small switch, turning on a flimsy light bulb that hung from the ceiling, grey walls surrounded the cement stairs that led into the dark.

Descending the stairs, Bambina felt no fear, even while she blindly followed the loud thuds of her father's boots hitting the cement.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, the disgusting rotten smell of unshowered flesh, human waste and blood became sickeningly prominent, being the only person to be down here for the first time, she was the only one to cringe her face in revulsion.

Another switch was flicked and a row of flickering bright lights lit up a long hallway, to their left and right were numbered doors, and beside the doors was a one-way glass window, allowing people on the outside to look into the room.

Bambina was too short to see into the windows and didn't have enough time to realise that the red streaks on the ground were blood, as her father began walking again.

"Inmate 10 is Harry Andrews, 35, a drug addict, rapist and loner," her padre began," he borrowed one thousand dollars and thought he could get away with not paying us back, that's not how things work here."

They reached a door with the number 10, her padre opened it and revealed a bare grey room, cement as the floor, walls and ceiling, the smell of human waste was even stronger.

In the middle of the room, there was a man, a beaten-up man on a metal chair that was nailed to the ground. His hands were tied tightly to the chair with rough rope.

The man's hair was caked with blood, an eye swollen shut, with a broken nose and bleeding mouth, his head was hung. The man looked dead, and he wanted to be.

Bambina didn't feel sorry for the man, a rapist? He deserved what he was getting.

The man looked up slowly, one open eye partly closing due to the bright light shining. He then noticed the young child in front of him, putting him in shock.

The girl looked to be 4, her eyes large but blank, hair in pigtails with small pink bows and wearing light pink attire, his eyes travelled to the gun in her hands, a gun that didn't look like it belonged anywhere near her.

"Eliminate Inmate 10," her padre broke the silence.

Bambina stood still staring right back at Harry, his brown eyes pleading with her for something.

"524, this is a direct order, eliminate Inmate 10." He spoke again and this time Bambina moved.

She walked towards him and held the gun up, not shaking one bit, but she was dead scared inside, no amount of shooting people shaped targets could ever prepare herself for this.

"Please no," a loud bang sound ricocheted in the basement, silencing his quiet, wheezy voice.

In front of her was a dead man, a man dead by her own hand.

She was officially a killer and she didn't know how she felt about that.

"Good job Lorelai," her padre smirked in pride as he stared at the seemingly successful experiment that he and the Don had decided to start.

He was proud that his 6-year-old girl seemed like she was going to be way better than Emma, subject 148, who when first told to kill someone, had shaken so much Dom thought she was going to faint.


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