Darkness is all around, save for the red glow that emanates from the source of the destruction that surrounds her. Vines tear through the earth, racing towards her. If they hit, she knows she's dead, just like her parents. A sob racks her as she catches sight of their lifeless bodies on the floor, remembering how they had been shot into the air, and how they had fallen with a sickening thud. She can't run anymore, and the thorns are right there. Malicious laughter fills the room with an eerie echo, as the Rise of the Thorns raises her arm as if to throw something, and in one graceful movement, lets loose another wave of the deadly vines, their thorns coming into focus, so that every excruciating detail is visible. Falling to the floor, she gives up, her tiny body unable to protect her from any form of damage. She squeezes her eyes shut and hopes it won't hurt too much. The gruesome, slithering sound of vines breaking through earth was right next to her, when she finally decides to run again. But it's too late. It's far, far too late. The vines are upon her, and she lets out a scream as a thorn gashes her back. Suddenly, she is knocked roughly out of the way, and she scrambles up and begins to run. Away from the thorns. Away from the evil.

Janna sat up, gasping for breath as her nightly torture finally ended.

Shit. Where did I fall asleep this time?

She wondered silently, taking in her surroundings. Judging by the strange noises and the biting smell of gasoline that were coming from the dark street, she was in one of the seedier areas of Zaun, where she lived. This was the type of area where you'd find assassins and thieves, or brothels and Shimmer dealers. Shimmer. The thing she both hated and needed most. It made you feel, so strongly. It just emphasized your emotions, and she needed that. She needed to feel, with nothing holding her back. Normally life was just so empty and meaningless without her parents, without friends, without a home.

I wish I could lose control. I wish I could forget. I just want to feel good again.

She rubbed her back, absentmindedly, pale, shaking fingers running over the ragged scar left by the thorn 10 years ago, tracing the contours of pain long past. It was so ugly though. Healing should be a thing of beauty, not something horrible.

Of course, rubbing corrosive Shimmer all over it isn't making it any prettier.

No one would even know it was a scar from the thorns. To any common person, she just looked like an addict, scarred by the corrosive waste substance that was Shimmer.

Shaking her head to snap herself out the reverie, she groaned and stretched out, feeling shaky.

I need a fix. Now.

Her unsteady hands went to her worn, patched, cargo pants, and slipped into the pocket, the shaking hands finding what she needed. The small bottle was almost empty, but there was still enough for one more rub. Putting a plastic bag over her hand, she uncapped the small bottle, with frail, chapped fingers. Tipping the remainder into her hand, she lifted up her sack-like tunic. She rubbed the Shimmer on her back and sighed in satisfaction as the familiar burning began. Colours began to fill her vision, and she could feel again. The range of emotions was a terrifying thing to someone who had never experienced them, but to Janna, they were familiar, and greeted her like an old friend. At first the colours in her mind were bright, and she experienced extreme joy, but after that, they darkened, and she was given grief, sobbing and screaming and wailing grief. No one noticed. No one cared. Not even her. At least she was feeling something. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her throat hurt from screaming. Other screams echoed hers, from outside, through the dark streets, and out of the apartments. Everyone was equal in their pain. The palette of shades of grey and black swirled through her vision, and she sobbed and laughed for hours until her exhausted body was finally given solace from the torture, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Groaning, she was awakened by the loud, harsh sounds of peddlers trying to sell their goods on the street. Sunlight streamed in, and she sighed.

It's over. Why does it have to be over?

The emptiness had returned, and she rose, feeling worthless. Rubbing her eyes, she put the empty bottle back into her pocket, and made sure that the knife strapped to her thigh was secure.

Careful not to hit her head on the low roof, she crept out from under the tin roof where she had fallen asleep. She wasn't always lucky enough to find such a protected place to sleep. Too many of her nights had been spent wandering around the streets, stealing Shimmer, or valuables from gullible vendors who thought they were going to get lucky when they saw the young girl wandering around alone.

Ha. Sure. Idiots.

It had been too long since she'd had a hit of Shimmer, she'd almost forgotten how tired it made you feel.

Where am I?

She wandered along the crowded street, just an urchin, nothing more. No one was going to save her: she didn't look like she needed saving. No one was chasing her, no one was hurting her, except herself. What person in their right mind would try to save someone from themselves? She was nothing. Nothing. The words echoed through her mind as she wandered up the street. She absentmindedly reached into her pocket to fiddle with her bottle, and was immediately reminded of the fact that she had no more Shimmer. She could only go 3 days without that stuff before she got desperate to feel again. She remembered the first time she'd tried shimmer. She'd been looking for food, wandering aimlessly to find a shopkeeper who wouldn't notice a few apples missing, when she'd wandered into a decrepit old shop, where a young, scarred, man had been selling small bottles of something. People were paying out of their asses for the stuff, and of course Janna had seen the opportunity for money, so she'd snuck in after hours, and taken 3 bottles of the stuff to sell. Curious to see what it was, she had put a bit on her finger. Worst mistake of her life. She had been 12, confused, and empty. If you give a starving person food, they're going to want it all the time. That's just logical. The same goes for emotion. Janna didn't feel, and when given something that made her whole again, even if only for a brief time had seemed like the best thing in the world. Oh how wrong she was. And now she had none.

I have to get money. I'm going to need a hit. Soon.

The sky, as always, was a dark grey from all of the smog, and the city mimicked this grim outlook. Tall concrete factory towers could be seen all around, and squalid little peddlers could be seen advertising their goods up and down both sides of the street. In Zaun, goods ranged from enslaved young children, to a night with a beautiful woman, to the bare necessities like food and drink. Being a part of the slave trade was the one fate worse than the one she faced at the moment. When she had first run away, the lure of a slavers words had seemed too good to be true. A warm bed, free food, and all she would have to do would be... well that depends on what her owner wanted her to do. Some slaves were luckier than others. Good thing she had common sense and had decided to try her luck alone. As she wandered down the street, the city was beginning to properly wake up. Shopkeepers opening their shutters, and apartment owners turning on their lights.

I wish I had an apartment. Ha. Nice one Janna. You'll never amount to enough to have a home, let alone an apartment.

Looking for a "good" place to beg was no easy feat, as Janna had soon discovered upon escaping from Zyra, the Rise of the Thorns. She had discovered the mystery woman's identity from a childhood friend, who had followed her dreams and left Zaun. Her name was Jinx, and she was the only friend Janna had ever had. She had heard of the "thorn lady" as Janna described her, and told her that who she was describing sounded suspiciously like Zyra, a hermit, living in the forest, who was said to have powers of the supernatural calibre. Supernatural as in super + natural. She could control nature, and she had honed those powers to do her bidding, be it good or evil. That sounded mystic, and almost desirable. Of course, now all she wanted was drugs so, it didn't really make a difference either way. But anyway, begging was difficult, especially as a 6 year old child, people had wanted to take her away, either to one of those orphanages/ slaughterhouses, or they had straight out asked to cut up her body "for science"

Science is so overrated. Scientists are just stuck up pigs. Ugh.

She'd had to learn very quickly how to hide, how to run, how to lie, and how to steal. Speaking of which, a gas guzzling contraption was pushing it's way up the street, no doubt full of techmaturgists. More importantly, rich techmaturgists, and Janna was poor.

I'm going to get enough for a whole week of high. I deserve this. I need this.

She adjusted herself, running her pale hand through her even paler hair, and made sure that her ragged tunic wouldn't catch on anything. The guzzler was getting nearer, and as it passed, she leapt after it, catching one of the tubes on its outside and flipping onto the roof. She burned her hand on the tube, but she didn't care, she was working towards her Shimmer. She let herself enjoy the feeling of immortality that the polluted wind on her face gave her, before dropping onto the back before any debris could hit her in the face and proceeding to pick the lock. She had never attempted this level of lockpicking before, but she had also never been so sure of her need for the drug before.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Her hair whipped out behind the machine, drawing attention to her, and also making it harder to hold on. Making sure that one hand was holding her to the back of the contraption, she fiddled with her makeshift lockpick, pricking her fingers and slicing them open due to how crude her pick was. Oh well, at least she was feeling something, even if that something was pain. Finally, she heard the telltale click meaning she was in. Glancing around through the black smoke being emitted by this selfish contraption to make sure she wasn't being watched by anyone of importance, she slipped into the back of the truck.

She was met with the slightly surprised faces of 3 huge armed men.

Shit.

SHIT.

Her hand inched towards the stolen dagger strapped to her thigh, prepared to slaughter these men so escape, and to get a fix. Before she could do anything, though, one of the huge men got over his surprise and bolted forward to grab her.

"We're taking you to the boss, girlie." he grinned, showing her a mouth of rotten teeth and old food, his sour breath making her feel dizzy.

What have I gotten myself into?