Hey! What's up?
Evil Me: They can't talk to you idiot.
Me: Oh . . . yeah.
Evil Me: Just do your stupid story
)O(
Kim was running.
Fighting.
If she didn't catch this one, there's no telling what would happen to her. He jumped over the fence, clearing the metal spikes at the top, the one's designed for tearing flesh off of bone. Kim was right behind him, swearing under her breath as she tried to match his pace. She spit a piece of her long blonde hair out of her mouth. She wished she had put the damn stuff up. It was only getting in her way.
Her speed was slowly decreasing, while the refugee was maintaining his pace.
"Fucking bastard probably does this all the time."
Kim believed this refugee to be a coward. He was a runner, that much was evident. Why didn't he turn around and fight her? Was he scared? Did he fear her? Was he leery of hitting a girl? Kim snorted in mock amusement, panting as the boy continued his agonizingly long sprint. He looked back at her every now and then, what he was looking for Kim had no idea.
He suddenly struck out at stack of rotting wooden crates, toppling them over and blocking her path. Instinctively, Kim jumped, trying to clear the massive wooden boxes in front of her. But, Kim had misjudged the height of the crate. She inhaled sharply as her foot caught the top of a crate. She stumbled to save herself from faceplanting into the cold, unforgiving asphalt. As she landed, Kim felt something catch her leg, and let out a yelp as she fell to the concrete floor. Immediately, she tried to get to her feet, only to feel a streak of white hot pain shoot up her calf. Kim turned to look at her leg. A rusty, sharp trap made from crude materials had managed to ensnare her,and the source of her pain? A sharp piece of metal digging into the back of her calf.
Kim heard the refugee's footsteps slow and she snapped her head up, only to see him turn and look at her, stopping with ease. The young teen looked at her with suspicion. Was he wondering if this was a trap? Kim growled to herself. Would her entire lower left leg be covered in blood if this was a trap? The boy started to walk towards her, slowly getting closer. Kim cursed as she judged he was about 5 feet away. She struggled to get to her feet, and let out another screech of pain. She crooked her head to turn and look at her leg, wondering how painful it would be to simply rip the spike out of her leg. Her muscles constricted in pain, as if sensing her thoughts. Kim felt tears burning her eyes, threatening to spill and trail down her face. No! She would not cry. If she was going to die at this boy's hands, so be it. She would not cry. No matter how much agony she was in. After all, what good was training like hers if you couldn't suck it up and deal with a little pain? Kim looked back to see her blood had turned from a healthy dark crimson to an evil looking scarlet. That's when she passed out.
)O(
Jack was making his way to the camp. The girl who had been chasing him was slung over his shoulder, unconscious, her head hitting his shoulder every now and then. He winced as the girl let out a groan in her sleep. A sigh escaped the boy's lips. Jack had been running for months looking for more kids like him. People who didn't like the man who called himself supreme ruler.
Jack had been going to meet someone when the girl had spotted him. He had been intrigued by her. Her fierce beauty only seemed to be matched by the intensity of her eyes. He considered talking to her. She looked innocent enough. But then, he had seen her knife. The insignia on it had told him everything he needed to know. Him. That's when he had started running, hoping she wouldn't yell to any others, hoping he could get away. He had heard her pounding footsteps behind him, her curses and grumblings. She had thrown a few things at him, trying to slow him down. She had even gotten close enough to tug at his shirt at one point. But she did not seem to understand the streets. She didn't know her way around, often swearing at the dead end walls he led her to climb over. And that's when Jack realized that this girl was a new recruit. She didn't have that set in her eyes yet, the hardness that seemed to come with their particular task.
Sadly, this recruit wasn't nearly as unprepared as some of the other goons. If the girl hadn't tripped, the roles could have easily been reversed. All he knew was that this girl had been prepared to kill him. To chop off his head and present it to her leader. Jack sighed before his ears perked after hearing another low, guttural groan from the young blonde. The girl was light on his back, something Jack was extremely thankful for. He was strong, but he was a normal kid. He wouldn't have been able to carry her the four and a half miles back to camp if she hadn't been so light. He brought his attention back to his surroundings. They would be at the camp soon.
)O(
As Jack pushed back the foliage that covered the entrance to the camp, he wondered how on earth he was going to explain this to Carla. After all, she had a pretty good reason for hating his soldiers. That damned man had twisted them into bloodthirsty monsters. No, He did not deserve to be called a man. He was a monster, turning kids into ruthless killing machines for his own twisted game. Kids who should have been outside playing and having fun with their friends were instead being trained on how to properly take someone's life with any type of weapon.
All that's about to change, Jack thought as he entered the camp and headed towards one of the tents the refugees had built. Carla, his second in command, turned to see who had entered. She noticed the girl who Jack was carefully laying on the floor. She looked at the knife, the insignia. She caught Jack's eyes, used her gift to probe his memory. She simply nodded and put two fingers in her mouth. The whistle that came from between her lips was shrill and loud and normally gave bystanders a headache. But, it did have its uses. Immediately, two girls in full white were in her tent. She signaled with sharp words and quick motions what was required of them. They nodded and waved to a boy outside of the tent.
Nick, who was one of the strongest guys there, immediately jogged over. He looked at the girls, then Carla, then the blonde on the floor, his deep blue eyes taking in everything in front of him. He took note of her leg, how the blood flow seemed almost sluggish now. Nick knew immediate action was a necessity to this case. He gingerly picked the girl up off the floor, muscles pulled taut as he hoisted the girl into the air. He slowly stalked out of the room, the two girl's in white trailing behind him. Once they were gone, Carla turned her gaze back to Jack. She had seen the way Jack had looked at the girl. She knew Jack was experiencing some unsettling feelings. After all, this was the first time they had brought one of His recruits into their camp.
Carla sighed. Her job would be much easier if Jack would tell her what really happened. But Jack knew how to lock his thoughts and feelings away, even from her. Carla turned back to her work. A sheet of paper looked back at her, the gray lead lines that marred the pure white of the paper glaring back at her. Carla was preparing for court. They had found one of His recruits, posing as an injured refugee. The boy would most likely be killed. Being 14 and having this responsibility of giving or taking life was tough, but she never complained. Carla knew that one day, balance would be restored, and all of this would be worth it. Balance that had ruthlessly been stolen from kids everywhere. Carla hated to think about it. She had faced her brother in a fight not long ago. Had to watch her spear go into his heart, watch the life drain from his eyes. Oh yes. He would pay. He will pay.
Well? I hope ya'll like it. Review please!
Evil Me: Why should they? Your story sucked.
Me: It did?
Evil Me: Yeah. Don't know why you even try.
Me: Because I like people reading my work! Now SHUT UP!
