Chapter I:
Survival. The goal for everyone in this unforgiving, god-forsaken world. To me, it's home. To
me and my sister. Death's not unfamiliar around the community. You watch people die everyday. As the life seeps away from their quivering, pale lips. All you can do is watch. There's nothing you can do to help. It's better to die than survive in these ruins. The ruins of a so called shining country above the waters. A land of freedom. My foot. The only freedom you get is when your heartbeat stops. When you're free of the burden of savages stealing your food, leaving you starving, left to rot in your home. I'm not fond of anything anymore. I'm left with no one but my little sister. Dad. Mom. Slaughtered. In the hope of bringing us prosperity and a future to cling on to. A light to guide our way. Well, I've been watching that light flicker around as the years pass. And one day, I witnessed it vanish into oblivion as I watch my mother bleed before my eyes as I try helplessly to stop the pain. The pain of watching my mom disappear. The joy vanishing, forever. And so did mine.
My bow loaded and ready to kill. Hunting. My senses felt alive and sharp. The golden weapon glistened in the sunlight as I whizzed pass trees, looking for prey. Lunch. My arrow notched in the silent and deadly weapon. I blew back strands of dirty blond hair as I searched stealthily for food. For some game. The woods. Nature. The crackling of leaves and the whistle of the wind. It calms my mind. Distracts me from the horrors of facing my innocent and cheery sister. The horror of facing my failure. The failure of providing for my sister. She's my life. The only light left that burns in this dark, dangerous world. I loved her. My ears pointed at a piece of greenery. Rustling. Rustling of leaves. I silently approach my prey. My steps leaving nothing but footprints. I readied my bow. Then the creature appeared. It's long antlers prominent and strong. It's sleek brown body, smeared with dirt. It's legs quivering from fear. My arrow, aimed, right between it's eyes. Deer. I'm lucky today. Then I saw the eyes. Chocolate brown and beautiful. It's eyes stared at me innocently. Someone had those same eyes. Heidi. My sister. She had those same beautiful eyes. How could I shoot this deer? Why isn't it running away while it still can? It stood before me. Not moving. Not one bit. I shut my eyes. One. Two. Three. I heard a whiz as the arrow pierced through the air. Then a yelp. Then a thud. I knew it was all over. I opened my eyelids to see the gruesome carcass of the deer as it lay on a blanket of leaves. I slipped off my hunting jacket. I gently pulled out the arrow and placed the dirty dark green jacket above it's head. I stroked it's body. It's fur tickled my fingers as they ran across it's body. The lucky ones. Dead in seconds. Relieved from a burden just like that. I tied the dangling cloth securely around it's neck. I slung it around my shoulders as I head for home.
The community came into view. Grey and black run down buildings jutted out of the sandy ruins. Windows dangled precariously as people roamed the streets. Survivors. Survivors of the full blown natural disaster that almost wiped out the entire human race. Almost.
I don't see how we're lucky in anyway. We're just left to survive. Without any help. Without any warning. Without anything to start with. We're not the only ones. There are 13 communities. The proper term: colonies. We're ruled by a dictator. His name, appearance, everything is confidential. No one knows who he is. Wherever we go, if we want to mention the mysterious man, we call him Master or King. But among our community, secretly, we call him the Inglorious Bastard. They're everywhere. Mercenaries are their proper terms. But to us, the 'survivors', we call them the living dead. They show no kindness, no notice of the constant dying in the streets. All they watch for is defiance against the Inglorious Bastard. Any law breaking, bullet through the heart. Any display of profanity against "his majesty", head comes off. No affection at all. They stand there, barking orders at the quivering people, just minding their business, to fetch them water or food without any payment in return. They stand there, their rounded helmets on their heads, their guns pointed at anyone who passes by. Their glares directed at anyone whoever had the guts to look at them. I'm rule-breaking alright. Hunting in the forest without any permit or anything. But I'm stealthy enough to know where to go and where to avoid. The map of the community my dad always showed me when I was younger was engraved in my mind. I mentally marked every single place of where they are stationed. My home; 24601 Nightingale Boulevard. I snaked through dark alleys and leaped off rooftops. My combat boots making no sound. I hid behind walls and climbed up rusty ladders to reach the last place I want to be in but there in that god-forsaken apartment was the person I really want to be with right now. Little Heidi. The window came into view. Shards of broken glass surrounded the rim. I slid through the opening, used to the sharp, pointy daggers. The apartment was exactly the way I left it. Grey, pale and messy. The torn old wallpaper hung loosely on the wall. A billion tiny bullet holes surrounded the whole scene. The war that broke out world apart... 2Home.
"Heidi! I'm home!" I yelled as I headed for the dusty kitchen.
"Coming, Scarlet!" she replied, the sound of the pitter-patter of her light toes as she hurried for the kitchen. Scarlet. She was the only person whoever called me by my real name. Scarlet Stone. Everyone called me by Stone because I disliked my rather girly name. I placed the game on the cracked granite counter top. I looked at my blurry reflection. My flowing golden curls sashayed down my shoulders. My striking blue eyes were fierce and stern. The dark circles around my eyes display my exhaustion. I collapsed onto the stool and got to work. I skinned and cleaned our lunch and handed the scraps to Heidi as she readied them to be sold. Her dark black hair were tied into pigtails and she wore her checkered blue blouse with army pants. I watched as she tucked her brown strands behind her ear as she took away the scraps to sell. You have no idea how much people would pay for dirty remains. Desperate times call for desperate measures. She knew the routine; Never Get Caught. She disappeared to start her job. Heidi. She really knows how to convince people. I started to divide the venison into smaller chunks. When I was done, she was back. The scraps missing and her smile, wide. She held out the money before her. A whole 20 bucks lay in her small palm.
"You sneaky little mink!" I praised as I took her in my arms and spun her around. Her giggles filled our run down apartment. I laughed along as we tumbled onto the cold marble floor. My vision became unclear as the dizziness overcame my mind. All I could make out was Heidi's little form laughing away. I sat up and pulled the cheery girl close to me. Throughout the whole day, I always longed for this moment right here. I caressed her hair as I could feel her heavy breathing. She then started to tell me about her day in school and what they learnt. I'm 15. And she's just 10. I had to give up getting an education to support Heidi and me. I'm all the family she's got left. And she's all I have left too. She could live a nice life too since I did teach her how to hunt and which plants our edible to eat but when she comes home from school, she just seems, happier and more jumpy. She's good with business. She always finds away to sell what needs to be sold. She'll grow up just fine. Unlike my sick and twisted childhood. I watched dad die, live on television. His blood, soaking the ground around him as he squirmed and screamed for help. The last words that he ever spoke to me as he stared into the camera were, "Scar, avenge the suffering. Make me proud." Yup, no "I love you, Scar" or "I'm proud of you Scar" but a message I'm still trying to interpret. How am I suppose to avenge these suffering people! I'm suffering myself! He died from retaliating against the 'Living Dead'. The worst punishment you could ever get was participating in the Assassin Series. It's where criminals and rebels fought against each other in an arena that was built to represent Rome in the olden times. It was shaped like the colosseum except the arena is designed to target your weaknesses. It was compulsory for everyone to watch, in all communities. It was annual. Both my parents died in the arena. I watched them bleed to death as their killer triumphantly walks away without a care about what their victims might be leaving behind. The last one standing gets to walk away with a wish of a lifetime. Anything you ever wanted granted in one wish. But the catch is; You'll come back every year to participate as a 'returning champion'. You'll go back down to that hell of a place till you die. You still get that same wish every year... Unless you die trying. I think the first option of dying sounds more... Delightful. It was shameful and ruthless. People do volunteer for the chance at ultimate victory and pleasure but who in their right minds would want to do that? And then, there was the story of Erik. I could still remember vaguely how he looked. Chocolate brown scruffy hair, piercing hazel eyes. Sun-kissed complexion and a tall and athletic build. How he was the first person who talked to me in school when I shyly brushed past all the annoyed glares as I clumsily nudged everyone. How we both loved to be one with nature and just breathe in the fresh air. How we hunted together when my mom died. The memory of my last day with him flashed before my eyes;
The cold wind hit my face like icy daggers. Bad timing. Bad timing Erik. I zipped past tumbling leaves and dangerously dangling branches that could snap and cause a head concussion. The wind howled in the distance as it snaked through the forest. I pulled my hood over my shivering lips as I journeyed on to the rendezvous point. The oak tree. That oak tree. It brought back a lot of memories. My dad used to carry me on his shoulders as we pretended we were airplanes swooping about. My sister was born right before my mom was shipped off to fight in the Assassin Series so she never knew dad. But I told her stories all the time about how much fun we would have. Before it all went wrong. He would make a tire swing and push me back and forth as I giggled away, happy. My mom would always prepare cookies that she would bake every once in a while if we actually had money... I chose the rendezvous point when Erik pulled me aside in school and whispered to me that we urgently needed to talk. All I did was nod. He had some kind of message to convey but it was confidential. Last words I said to him before we ended our conversation; Oak Tree, Seven pm, don't be late. The stormy skies rumbled in the distance. Shimmering lights flickered in the grey tumult. Lightning. This better be good.
The oak tree's long, elegant branches stood it's ground as the ferocious wind took everything in it's path. Leaves were ripped from their trees as they flew away, blindly. A dark, hooded figure sat cross-legged at the foot of the tree. He faced me. His expression unreadable. The lightning in the dark stormy clouds lit up the landscape around us. I saw flashes of the seriousness in his eyes. They displayed desperation and sternness. I crept towards the boy who cautiously watched me as I sat at his side, shivering. He glanced at me. His stunning green eyes squinted at me. His eyebrows knit together. I pulled my jacket closer to my body and rubbed my arms as I blew my breath into the cold, winter air. The poof of heat appeared shortly but disappeared just as fast. He faced back towards the field we were in. The forest a few yards away. Dark and uninviting. The black storm clouds loomed above the dark vegetation. He whispered in a barely audible hiss,
"Justice. It's nowhere to be found in this sick twisted world."
"What about it?" I asked as I rubbed my palms together, trying to warm my numb, frozen fingers. He turned back to me, his hazel eyes invading mine. I could feel his gaze burning into my eyes as he scan my every single thought, my secrets and especially those deep, deep inside. Buried underneath the hate that I've come to associate with the world. I knew he was right but what could we do? It can't be done. We're just sick, little 13 year-old peasants who struggle against the tide known as life as the salty water fills our lungs and slowly drives us insane beyond repair. He spoke in a serious tone,
"Don't you want to change it? Don't you want to drive those bastards insane as they suffer before our very eyes, like how we did?" I stared at him full on as I tried to digest what he was saying to me.
"Its not like we could do anything about it!" I retaliated, frustrated.
"I know how we could!" he snapped back, standing up as he looked down at me. My anger turned into confusion. What are you talking about, Erik? He slumped against the trunk. He had a faraway look. He gently explained, patiently,
"What if we could. I know how. I hold the key to our answer, Scar. We could finally live in peace. Without any worry in the world." I pressed my back against the hard wood, suddenly interested in the offer.
"You have my attention. Go on." I replied monotonously. He shift his gaze downwards as he drew circles in the mud.
"I entered the Assassin Series." he whispered silently. But to me, every word he just said sounded like a land mine exploding. I shook my head vigorously as I backed away from him. Step by step, he followed me, stretching his arms out to calm me down.
"No, Erik. Please don't do this to me." I whispered as I stopped in my tracks. His hands grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at me.
"Listen to me, Scar. I've been training. If I get that wish of a lifetime, we'll both never starve again." he explained.
"But you'll have to return to the ring, every year! You'll die, Erik! Can't you see that!" I whimpered.
"I'll last."
"No you won't! One day you'll disappear forever! I can't face that!" I snarled as I pulled his grip off me.
"I shouldn't have told you! I knew it! You'll never understand! I'm doing this for us! I have nobody left! I'm doing this for us, Scar! It's selfish of you not to agree!" he growled at me as I headed back into the woods. I faced him, tears flowing down my eyes, pain dwelling up inside of me. I yelled loud and clearly, the last words I would ever say to him before he disappeared from my life forever,
"Me, Selfish! You're the one who's selfish, Erik! I struggle day and night to help feed you and Heidi. Every stinking day, every stinking hour, every stinking second! I try the best I can to keep us alive and now you're throwing it all down the drain for a chance as tiny as a seed that you'll ever return! No, YOU listen here, Erik! If you truly care, you'll know deep down, you'll stay. And if you leave, I promise you, I'll never forgive you ever again. And you know I keep my promises." No reply. Nothing. Not a goodbye. Not a hug. Nothing. He did nothing to stop me as I walked away, leaving him forever. And just like that, another light of hope just vanished, leaving a dark, cruel world with one last tiny burning candle that brings me to wake every morning, Heidi.
Little Heidi shook me from my daze. Her face seemed confused and worried. I blanked out again, didn't I? I hugged her close to me, as close as possible as I stroke her hair.
If I only knew, if I only knew the only light I have left may soon vanish forever.