Author's Note: Hi! Thanks for opening up my story! I really hope you enjoy it! This is a continuation of the series after Fall of Five. This chapter is what happens after Ella's kidnapping in her point of view. :)
Ella's Point of View:
"It's the Loric prisoner." I hear someone's raspy voice whisper with glee as I arise from my unconsciousness.
My hands twitch, but cold, metal handcuffs and another pair of shackles on my ankles prevent me from using either of them. My head feels foggy, and my toes are frozen. I flinch when the dull thumps of heavy boots from across the room reach my ears. I force my eyes open, which immediately dart to the face of the person who spoke. He's a Mog. Uncertainty flashes behind his dark eyes before he schools his features to an icy indifference.
"Get up," he commands, scraping the cane against the floor. I wince at the high-pitched screech it makes against the stone. My body groans in protest as I push myself up against the wall without fully allowing my brain to register my actions yet. My throat scratches itself in its thirst. Where am I? How long have I been out? An hour? A few days?
The realization hits me quickly like a blow dealt from a blunt, wooden bat. I've been kidnapped! I try to suppress it, but my fear creeps up and shakes me until I start trembling. My heartbeat quickens and my breath grows shallow. Didn't Setrakus Ra promise me in my dreams that this would happen? My hoarse throat whispers for Marina, but the Mog in front of me just smirks.
"Your weak Loric allies aren't here to protect you this time," he taunts as I ball my hands into fists. At least I know now that the rest of them are safe. A Mog steps forward with a blindfold ready in his hands, taking advantage of my disorientation. Shaking the remaining sleepiness off, I jump up and back away. I'm not in Chicago with my friends anymore.
This is enemy territory.
I can barely see in this dark room, with its walls slanted upwards towards the sagging ceiling. Crates and tall boxes are stacked around me, some of them with "handle with care" stamped on the sides. Am I in a Mog ship? I blink my eyes and realize that I'm surrounded by five Mogs. They look uncertain as to how to proceed now that I've woken up, their eyes constantly darting towards the Mog with the cane, whom I now label as their leader. They would be easy pickings, if only another Garde was here with me. But I'm alone, aren't I? I have no chance. I shake my head a little to clear my pessimistic thoughts. Grow up, Ella, I tell myself. I need to at least try.
"Stop," I try to say fiercely before they can step closer. I thrust out my hand in front of me, palm forward. A few of them flinch, but the one with the cane only laughs.
"Number Ten," he says, chuckling. "It would be a miracle if you had any useful legacies right now." I'm not Number Ten, my mind whispers furiously at him. His eyes widen in surprise as I accidentally transmit the message to him by mistake, but he's not the only one startled by the other's comments. Did Five tell him about me?
Rage starts burning from inside my chest at the thought of Five, and I try to focus on thoughts of Marina and Nine instead. Marina would be strong enough to escape, no matter how dire the situation. And Nine? I almost smile at the thought. He would never let a couple of Mogs cornering him escape alive.
I know I have to try. I call up my courage by imagining them next to me, and turn towards the nearest Mog while recalling Nine's words.
Duck and aim their side, because they have the advantage of height. If you can get them to fall over, you'll have the advantage.
My hatred for Five and the memories of my friends push me past acting like the nervous, shy, 12-year-old that I normally am. I slip out of my oversized manacles easily and hear them clanging to the floor. I lift my feet out of their bindings and grin just a little after seeing the astonished faces of the Mogs. I feel almost like Nine for a second. His attitude must have rubbed off on me.
I focus and launch myself at the nearest enemy with my fists clenched. I'm almost tempted to shout, "For Lorien!" The prickling needles inside my right foot which has fallen asleep make me hobble a little, but I ignore it.
The soldier's eyes widen, surprised at my daring charge. I use his surprise against him, ducking his punch that was too slow and throwing my fist into his side. He grunts and winces in time for me to forcefully kick the backs of his knees, causing him to fall backwards with a thud. I spare a second to see his eyelids close slightly so that I can only see the whites of his eyes. I lift my head up again, and not a moment too late. The Mog wielding the cane rushes towards us, overcoming his surprise, followed quickly by the three other Mogs.
Powered by adrenaline, I use the only Legacy I've ever mastered to shrink into a 6-year old and duck past the Mogs' legs. The Mog nearest to me reaches out for my flying hair, but his hand just barely grazes it as I dart past. He leans heavily on his right foot as he whirls around, and I notice that the left one is in some sort of a cast. That must be what his cane is for. I see the said wooden pole inches from my head, and grasp it tightly with both hands. I twist the cane out of his grasp and bring it down upon him, changing back into a 12-year old in the middle of the swing. It crashes down upon his shoulder, and I wince slightly as his knees give way. He falls down on top of the other Mog, and I jab the cane at his throat. The Mog coughs, trying to breathe, struggling to shove the cane away.
As I fight to hold the cane in place and turn to the other Mog soldiers at the same time, I hear a click next to my ear. My eyes swivel to the left and see a gun an inch from my forehead.
"Put the cane down," the Mog says threateningly. They must have found out that I don't have telekinesis. Nine would never let that get in his way. In one fluid movement, I whirl the cane towards his face, smacking the gun out of his hand and scraping his cheek. I hear the gun clatter hollowly onto the ground as I aim a quick kick at his side. The attack causes him to lean over, wheezing. My eyes widen, stunned at how much I've improved, but it's too early to celebrate now.
I pivot to my right and flinch when I see only the hollow interior of a gun. Behind it is one of the last two standing Mogs. The pistol is so close that it's hard to focus on its shiny, smooth texture. I see a green light growing brighter and brighter deep inside the metal cylinder, and I know I'm too late to block the bullet. As I swing the wooden cane for the last time anyway, I think of the remaining Loric. They will find a way to punish these Mogs for the destruction they waged upon my planet.
Hatred flashes in my eyes as I focus past the gun to the eyes of the Mog wielding it with a cold determination. My heart thumps wildly in my chest, protesting my imminent death, but I hold the glare and continue to suppress my fear. I know that I will never stoop so low as to beg for my life.
My last breath of air leaves my lungs. My heart beats out the final pulse to its rhythm.
I hear a blast and see a flash of green light, and then there is only darkness.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Reviews would be great, especially constructive criticism! If you review, I will be forever thankful!
I hope you all enjoyed Ella growing up a little!