One by one all of them left me alone.
Blood.
Blood flutters around as if they are cherry petals covering my tiny hands in dark crimson. What's going on? Why does the blood continue to sprinkle and flutter? When will it stop? My eyes grow wide, my legs won't move. Is my blood going to join the array of red around me?
Screams.
Screams echo through my ears. Shrill cries of ones life ending, just as a time bomb would detonate to signify a death. Will I scream like that as a bullet goes through my pale body? Will anyone distinguish my cry from the sea of others?
Tears.
Tears like flowing rivers pour from the children around me. Tears fall onto dead bodies, the perpetrator of said tears soon to join them any time now. Falling tears wash away blood splatters that so boldly stain the cheeks of those who cry. Tears leave a wake of runny red liquid down their cheeks. Will I cry like that when my killer comes? Will I cry like that when someone close to me dies? Am I crying now?
Death.
Death lingers all around. The smell, the sound, the feel, everything screams death. Am I going to die? I don't want to die. Blood continues to stain my baby blue hair. Slowly I move my shaking fingers to touch blood that stains my cheeks. Upon coming in contact the liquid my body trembles more. I move my hand and admire the blood that drenches my snow-white skin in terror.
A man runs towards me. Is he coming to get me out of here? No, he is not. The man screams as he falls, a bullet pricing through his heart. The man's blood pools around my feet as flickers of it fly onto my shirt.
Although I am leaning against a wall I can't support my jelly like legs. I fall to the floor, my back leaning against the wall. Why is it so hard to breath? I am hyperventilating. My stomach churns. The dim lights of the dark prison like room cause my head to spin. Every breath of air I stuck in feels like burring fire to my over working lungs. I can't stop shaking.
I am scared. I don't want to die. I turn my head to the side and view the other scared children, my friends. I can't see their faces in this dull light although I can see their tears clearly.
The little boy with blond hair holds his hands to his ears as he shakes violently, as if to block out the shrill cries that fill air. The boy pleads to god in between his hiccups. Blood drenches his hair from all the bodies that must have fallen on him.
The rather large purple haired boy is facing the wall, his head leaning against the cold blood splattered wall. Slamming his fists into the wall as he cries to be let out. The boy's fists are sustaining injuries and turning a red colour though I know he can't feel it at this point. W-we are beyond t-the point of s-sane thinking… I need to get a hold of myself.
A boy with glasses and green hair hugs his knees to block out the horrific sight in front of him. His sniffles can be heard although his red puffy crying eyes remain unseen to us. The boy clutches his knees with such force that his nails dig into his white skin, leaving ticks of blood, albeit that's nothing compared to the blood that decorates his back from carrying dying, now dead friends.
A boy with dark blue hair stares hollowly into the distance where bodies can be seen falling every second. Although his hands are coated red from killing his enemies with his bare hands, he continues to tighten his fists, nails marking his own blood onto his closed tiny fists.
I wonder what I look like right now? Not that it matters. I just want this to be over. Let us out of this hell. LET US OUT BEFORE WE GO INSANE. My mind is trembling and my eyes are horror stricken. Isn't this enough torture for you? Can't it be over now…please…
I hate the colour red, red, the colour of death.
No, that is incorrect; I do not hate the colour red.
In front of the five of us stands a boy no older than us. With fiery red hair he stands, protecting all of us. I wonder what his face looks like? I know he is our leader. He will save us. He has to. I believe in him.
I believe in him because he is the one that has always given me hope. The one who picks me up when I fall down. In this hell of a world he showed me how to smile. This boy gave me hope and so… I believe in him.
The sounds of guns approach at an alarming rate. Heat from a distant fire makes this room sweltering. It feels like a snake is crawling up my body and slowly it's coiling its scaly body around my neck. My breaths are coming out weaker by the second.
The red haired boy looks over his shoulder to the five of us. I still can't see his face clearly though. Through the shimmering light of the moon peaking in from the cell windows I can see a smile on his face. Calming moonlight illuminates his tender reassuring expression and for a moment my erratic heartbeat paces itself. "I'll protect you. I'll be back soon," he tells us soothingly.
No don't go I wanted to scream to the boy. You'll be killed if you move forward! I don't want him to leave us alone. Please don't leave me alone in this hellish scene. The thought of this boy being killed aches my heart more than buckets of acid eroding me slow. Strings of my heart are threatening to snap when I picture this boy dying. I don't want him to go. He can't go. He mustn't. Yet somehow I can't find my voice to call to him.
The little boy with red hair ran off into the room of fire nevertheless.
Within seconds the four little boys around me start screaming for him to come back. The one with dark blue hair begins to shake his head aggressively and a look of stern determination flies into his eyes. Soon he runs after the red haired boy who vanished into the room of fire.
The three boys start to scream and cry more, throwing up and coughing violently as tears poured and poured out of their eyes. The blond boy got up to run after them only to fall the moment he attempted to stand. His tears soak the cold hard ground below him and his curses fill the air. I-I don't know w-what to do. Closing my eyes away from this painful picture I try to think rationally to no avail. My existence has gone haywire.
Screams that seemed to be coming from the fire room flood our ears. Fire, lots of fire fills this room, scarlet red flames. They are enchantingly scary. I brace myself as the excruciating heat flows through my senses. I close my burning eyes and wait for the flames to burn the rest of the boys and I. At least it's over. We are free.
I wait and wait but that time never comes. Slowly I open my eyes to the bright flames that circle around us, protecting us. A rush of fear, panic and relief washes over me. In my shell like state I was surprise that I could feel anything.
Fire of fear and destruction shelters us. Pinches of the flame flicker in front of my eyes. My baby blue eyes reflect the burning flames mystically. Enchanting doesn't even hold a candle to describe the fantasy unfolding before me. I have no clue what's going on but by some stroke of luck, a god seems to be on our side.
Something like this happens to someone once in a lifetime. Time seems to slow down and nothing no longer feels real. Strangely enough at a time like this you feel nothing. As if you are placed in a spell you can't comprehend anything. You are completely captivated by the intensity and ambiance of it all. The beautiful fire that I thought would bring my death seems to be sparing me and yet, the flame's spell I have been subjected to.
I feel as though I am falling into the chained chambers know as insanity. The blood, the screams, the bodies that are now nothing but ash, I am blind to it all though it's right in front of my very eyes.
Moments of pure agony go by as we wait to see what these flames would do and as we wait for the two boys to come back. Somewhere inside me I know these flames won't t harm us but only the slow tick of the clock would tell. Will this fire truly protected us or will it burn our souls to the core?
The flames soon die out, coolness flooding into the room. Suddenly, a flash of ferocious lighting cracks, and following, thunder booms. My whole being leaps in fear and I wince stiffly.
Scarce silence follows. Seconds feel like hours to me. I could practically hear the sound of a clock ticking as anguishing silence continues to mourn.
When time seems to move again, the screams have ceased. Only the sound of sniffs and the purple boy's fist hitting things are heard. The blond boy bites his hand in order to silence his screams from the heart shocking lighting. I find myself trembling uncontrollably. I try to stabilize my breathing but it only seems to be getting faster. To be frank, I am scared out of my mind. I am terrified right now. Mortified. What's going to happen to us? What happened to the two boys?
Footsteps echo and all of us straighten up. I look up to see the dark blue haired boy, his eye completely devoided of any emotion as if his soul had been burnt along with the flames of the fire. I almost shatter into a smile when I see the dark blue haired boy. But then a question drifts into my mind…where did the red haired boy go?
I clutch my heart as I wake up with a start. A dream, just a dream. I stabilize my stringent breaths. My statement earlier is incorrect. Yes, that was a dream but my no means was it just a dream. That dream was of my past, an old reality. I was but a mere age of 5 at the time. I don't remember much about my life at that age and I rather not.
I heave myself out of bed, my tests are early this morning. After getting dressed for the occasion I walk over the testing facility of the white building next door to my sleeping quarters.
As I enter the testing room I see a lady with glasses and a high black bun. She walks over to me and places an electronic collar around my neck. I don't resist, after all this is standard procedure. I nod to her when I am done and she inspects me. She pats me down to ensure I have no weapons on me, which I don't. How could I? When she is done I proceed to the door behind her. Test room 612 it reads.
My testing room, I have been here many times, although I do not know if I have been to this room or one that looks identical to this one, it becomes hard to tell. The room is all white, no windows or furniture in sight. I stare at the white wall as the sliding door I entered from closes. Giving the illusion of no escape the door fades into the wall. I don't see why they must do this, I already know that those doors are indestructible and locked.
"Begin" A filtered voice vocalizes, coming from seemingly nowhere.
"Yes" I reply robotically. "Kuroko Tetsuya. 15 years of age. Male. I belong to this organization, a section of the government known as Shiki. The goal of this special section of the government is to take out an evil organization know as Seiki and advance humanity. The Seiki organization held me captive when I was younger due to the fact I am a child with power. With noble effort the Shiki saved me from them. I owe my very life to the Shiki. I hold the power of water. My powers are owned by the Shiki, they own my life and I belong to them and I am to fight and be used for their purposes" I answer, this is simply standard procedure.
"Good. Now, fight." The voice commands. I have no choice really. I must obey. Did I ever have a choice in this world of mine? This world of utter insanity…
AN: Merry Christmas! Please tell me if you like the premise of this Fic so I know if I should continue or not. ^o^