Hey, everyone! So I finally got the first chapter finished of the prequel to The Fire's Illusion. I decided to get fancy and have names for my chapters for this one. It shall be starting from the beginning, and by the beginning, I mean the very beginning. Anyway, enjoy!
Darkness. Darkness was the only thing I could see. My eyes had been closed for what seemed to be forever. So long, to me, that I always wondered what the outside world beyond my eyes was like. I wanted to open them, but they were stubborn, reassuring me that it was not yet that time. How long had it been since I had started breathing? How long had it been since the breath of life had given me part of its glorious gift? Suddenly, the quiet, dark, and peaceful bliss was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound. The sound had hurt my sensitive ears and I let out a small, pitiful wail, hoping that someone understood my distress and would cease the noise. My panic only continued to rise when I felt large, yet delicate hands grab me and bring me close to whoever the hands had belonged to. I continued to cry until I heard the being speak, but I could not understand the stranger. I heard the gentleness in the tone, however, and calmed down, willing my stubborn eyes to open for the first time.
I laid my eyes on the person who cradled me; it was a young woman wearing a white coat with clean, strawberry blond hair and vibrant green eyes. She gave me a bright smile and spoke again, crooning to me happily. I could not understand her, was she happy that my eyes were open? All of this seemed so strange to me. I looked to her curiously. I didn't know this lady. Where was I? Where was my mother? Did I even have a mother? Was the lady holding me my mother and I just didn't know? If she was, did I look like her? I silently hoped that I did. She was kind and gentle and pretty.
My rushed and confused thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a heavy door opening and slamming shut. I looked up fearfully; I had a gut instinct that something was wrong. The kind woman who was holding me had tensed her muscles. Two men dressed in dark green colored uniforms walked into the large room. I looked around at my surroundings as they entered, the room itself was surrounded with odd looking contraptions that I did not know the use of. Perhaps one of those machines had made the loud, and irritating buzzing sound that had woken me up earlier. Thankfully, that noise had ceased.
I finally turned my attention towards the two men. The oldest man looked to the lady. He had dark brown hair that was starting to gray and cruel, ice blue eyes. I didn't like him, and I felt my heart freeze when he looked at me, but then he looked back at the lady that I had accepted as my mother. He raised a bushy eyebrow and talked to her in a voice that was anything but gentle. Quite the opposite, actually. It was cold and cruel, just like his eyes. There was something about the way he held himself and the way he talked and looked that just shot fear into my fragile heart.
The lady nodded, her eyes, once happy and kind, were now wide with fear. She understood him, but I did not know what either of them was saying. I didn't know words at this point in my life. My "mother" seemed to be as frightened of him as I was, perhaps a bit more. Was the cruel man that talked to her my father? No. I wouldn't accept that fact. I couldn't even imagine my mother getting along with such a man. I risked another wide-eyed look at him. He held himself high, as if he was above everyone in the room. He seemed like a figure of authority, based on how he looked and sounded confident, but I could tell that he was cruel. Perhaps he was corrupt from power. I didn't know for sure, but he irked me. I couldn't see myself getting along with him in the future.
The other man, a much younger looking fellow with bright blond hair and brown eyes, looked at me suspiciously and spoke in an irritated tone. I couldn't help but get the feeling, by the sound of his deep voice, that he was insulting me. I frowned and held up one of my arms, inspecting my chubby, childish fingers. I didn't see anything wrong with me. From what I could tell, everyone else in the room had hands too. Sure, mine were small, stubby, and chubby, but, wasn't that normal for someone my age? What did the young man not like about me?
The old man glared at him and barked in a harsh voice, slapping the younger fellow with the back of his hand. The hit was so hard that the sound of it echoed around the machine room. I winced slightly from the sight, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away. Oh, how I wished that my eyes were closed at this point, but they did not want to cooperate with me.
The blond boy held his cheek for a moment before looking back up, wiping an odd red liquid away from the corner of his mouth. Blood. The side of his face where he had been struck was now beet red. It looked like the hit had really hurt, but he did not shed a tear. Most definitely, he was tougher than I. If I were in that situation, I would have been bawling by then. He glared at the older man fearlessly and shouted at him angrily, taking out a weapon. It was thin, and sharp, and its silver metal was glinting in the dim lighting. It was a knife.
The older man only let out a cruel and terrifying laugh before taking out his own weapon. It was slender and black, shaped to fit easily in his hand, and it had a long barrel for shooting out projectiles at a quick speed. A gun. He whispered in a scary and murderous voice before a loud bang reverberated around the room. The noise was too much for my little ears to take and I started to wail like the baby I was, the lady, who was frozen to the spot, trying to quietly calm me down.
Through a vision blurred by tears, I could see the old man standing beside the fallen body of the young one. A hole was in the head of the blond man, and a sickly crimson liquid pooled around him. He didn't move. I didn't know at the time, for I was too innocent, but I had witnessed, only mere minutes after experiencing the breath of life myself, someone end the life of another for the first time.
The old man looked at the lady, she was just as scared as I was, I could tell by her shallow breathing. He pointed an index finger at her and barked an order to her harshly. She nodded and rushed out of the room as fast as possible, taking me with her. I didn't understand what had just happened, but I was terrified, my terror fueled even more by the terror of my mother. Suddenly, the great gift of life didn't seem that great anymore. Would life always be like this? Constantly living in fear? If so, I'd like to go back to having my eyes closed so that I wouldn't have to witness anymore horrors.