Ultimate Underworld ➺ [FC Series Bk.3]

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The underworld has gone quiet, no one rules the shadows. Until Alyssa escapes her entrapment, plotting revenge to take back everything she ever loved! A long time ago, Ultimates could rule the world, after all, they were built too. However, gangs have replaced their once significant standing in the last three cities on earth. Frankincense City is now ruled by violent teens, Atlantis is run by a military coup and Avalon is ruled by Jessica 'Red'. 7 long years have passed since the once formidable gang of Ultimate Super Soldiers, STRIKE, were once feared around the globe for their power and influence. Now, they're under 'Red's hands; as broken pets who lost their greatest love and the only child they had to look after. Little do the members of STRIKE know that their first love is alive and coming to save them. After 7 long years, STRIKE may just get to break free of their personal hell... only to step right into a new one. Because their once subservient girlfriend is no longer a door mat. Instead, she is now the most dangerous woman on the planet.

Scifi / Romance
C. Swallow
4.8 21 reviews
Age Rating:

1] Alyssa: Prologue

IMPORTANT INFO: This is the sequel to Princess of the Shadows. Read that first! x

Ultimate Underworld - 1] Alyssa: Prologue

7 years later

I was willing myself to cry again but my eyes were as dry as my brittle blood. I wasn’t really sure if my heart was pumping at times.

The large muscle always felt dead when I thought of the two things.

The two things.



Jessica ‘Red’.

2500 days.

My identity.

Two things.

I was avoiding admitting to the specific second thing while waiting for the emotion.

Waiting for the tears.


But whatever.

Along the carbon barrier in front of me, I watch as my squad catches up to the finish line. I wonder briefly if the 3 girls will notice the oil on top.

Raven hops that barrier like it’s not even existent, while a fresh wound gapes from her stomach, spilling blood everywhere. Strawberry hops over the barrier and Blue decides to jump over it the old fashioned way, by placing her hands on the top.

Consequentially, she tumbles right off the edge and face plants into the tiles of the lab.

A watery tear snakes out of my eye.

From humour.

Yeah, it was messed up.

Her pain made me laugh.

I didn’t really know what was funny in a lab after 7 years of torture, prodding, poking and raping.

All I knew was that I had lost my sense of humour, because I was consumed by constant pain. Pain. That feeling was all any of us ever felt, so for each one of us, pain had many, many different sides.

“That was fun,” Blue groans as she sits up, closing her eyes, her hair plastered to her face with the oil as a bolt of reverse energy lightning, leaves the corner of the lab ceiling and promptly smacks her across the cheek.

Blue’s body slams back into the barrier and just like that, she is ice cold in a deep sleep, slumped and submitted.

Raven and Strawberry are either side of myself, sitting and leaning against the wall.

“Chains, chains,” Raven murmurs to the right of me, ignoring Blue’s strike out as she puts on her own shackles.

Strawberry follows suit while humming under her breath.

“I like anything. Anything, I do, I like it,” Strawberry says this over and over, because it helps her with this situation.

It really did, although I think it was more the repetition of a statement rather than the words themselves that calmed her.

I sit against the wall, not shackled, but quiet and still.

All around me, the lights were dimming out and the foreboding and quick separation was creeping in.

A creepy mechanical buzz in the air suggests we’re all about to get our daily taste of isolation.

“Bye,” Raven whispers.

“I like anything,” Strawberry whispers.

“Anything at all?” I croak out, hearing her whimper a ‘yes’, as she’s taken away with a mechanical shift and Raven is next.

I hear boots marching forward into the all-encompassing darkness as Blue is taken last.

Then I hear nothing.

A door.

Then nothing again.

The lights eventually switch back on and the long room I’m still in is empty of everything but metal tiles. All the equipment is gone. Even all the pools of blood.

In it’s place a bald young man stands in a lab coat.

Lab-Man was the nicest yet also evil man I had ever encountered.

He was polite before he conducted tests. By polite, he’d maybe look me in the eyes briefly for a split second. Once a day.

It wasn’t allowed.

But he did it anyway.

So, I liked him.

Lab-Man starts to approach, while reaching into his pocket.

“I have your hair growth serum in this,” he murmurs under his breath as he reads his notes and stops before me, “I have to stick it… what…?” he trails off, confused by his notes, “I have to stick it in your backside.”

“Red’s orders?” I ask.

“She’s waiting for you,” Lab-Man keeps to the standard procedure of not making eye contact with me as he ignores my question, “Can you stand up and turn around, she’s watching and she’ll want this done correctly.”

“Watch the hair,” as I reply with a sultry rasp that sounds like a dying rat, I get to my feet while I hear my hair scratch loudly against the wall behind me.

My hair was touching my ass.

7 years ago it had touched my shoulders after 19 years on this hell forsaken earth. 7 years later and it may have grown an inch on normal terms. However, the hormones I was injected with every week, increased the growth rate of my sharper-than-diamonds head of hair.

As I turn around for Lab-Man, I feel a sting in my ass.

The moment I feel woozy, I know there is far more in that needle than the synthetic-hormone I was used to receiving by now.

The sick feeling in my veins and the misplaced balance is Jessica’s idea of fun.

“Head out the open door and make sure you wash up,” Lab-Man is polite again as I bravely continue to stand stock-still while my head spins.

Any other time in my life prior to 7 years ago, I would have collapsed like a broken and starved animal.

I had somehow learned how to stand up right regardless, especially when it came to Jessica.

I turn and I walk towards the door that is open.

She’d have photos of her.

I knew she would.

She always did.

And she never showed me.

Instead she taunted me with the back of them so I could see nothing but a glimpse of the slight silhouette of her form.

The silhouette of my baby girl.

My lil’ lightning.

Jessica called her Victory while taunting me.

But that is not her real name.

Her name is Sally.

And she is my daughter!

I never gave birth to her. She was ripped from my womb while tiny in development, within the second month of pregnancy, so they could continue to grow her in this lab.

My heart stops again with the thought.

My blood colder.

All I knew, was that the moment I escaped, I was going to calmly ask for her back.

In a very fucked up manner.

I dreamed about it. Every time I closed my eyes and I had no control of the images that flashed through my brain, showing me my true desires, to find some sort of inner peace.

I was going to escape.

I had been planning it for months now. A real chance to escape.

It would be the start of a huge plan I had formulated in my Ultimate brain.

All I had to do was count down the hours, the minutes and the seconds.

Because tonight was the night.

In four and a half hours, I’d finally initiate my plan.

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