My heart plummeted. His scream was cut off almost as soon as it started. His blood splattered across my face and arms. I could see the rest of his blood flowing out from underneath the rock and stone that now lay onto of him.

It didn't feel real. Standing here, surrounded by war, watching another one of my friends die. This time was different though. I didn't kill him this time. I watched him die, and I couldn't do anything to help him. I had to watch his blood leave him.

I had to watch his young live leave his body before he got to do anything.

This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that I got to live, and he didn't.

I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be dead. Would you feel no pain? No hate for the people who killed you? I tried to think of what it would feel like for all the blood in my body to pool out on the ground and have the person next to stand in it.

Have their skin soak in it.

I remembered what it felt like to have all the blood running down my body that night. . . I wanted to forget what it felt like for him to put in me. I wanted to forget what it felt like for him to cut open my arms and legs and look at my insides.

It wasn't so long ago, and I, unfortunately, could remember every detail.

His humming died down to something I could barely hear. Straining to hear him, I almost didn't notice when one of the tools disappeared from its place and found a new place; it was dug deep into my right arm, the one that isn't numb by the injections he previously suck into me.

The pain made me frozen in place. I couldn't move, so I just let the pain flow through my arm and up into my neck. He slide the knife down cutting open the skin and letting the blood pour onto the table and pool under my shoulder. It was thick and stuck my arm to the table. The doctor slowly moved his finger down the shallow wound. My muscles twitched as his finger lightly glided over them.

"Oooh~ your muscles are so well developed for someone your age," the doctor whispered blissfully; his finger was removed from my muscles, and a needle took its place. He quickly stitched the shallow bloody cut, making the blood stop almost completely. A clank on the ground signaled the doctor dropping the knife. "Shit, I can't use that now," he muttered almost violently.

Slamming the next knife down on the table beside me, blood sloshing off the side and dripped slowly onto the floor with a sickening plop.The doctor started humming again. The song was fast and low. It sounded like some song that would be in a show the saviors spoke about, an orchestra or something. His humming got louder and quieter through each part of his while he pick his next weapon of torture.

I held my head in my hands and tried to forget everything that I had been through, but it was no use. I still felt the way his knives dug into my flesh. I still heard that sickening slosh of blood landing on the floor.

I turned to the forest surrounding the prison and ran. I ran and ran, not bothering to even look back at the building. Blood was drying on my skin, it made me feel dirty and sick. Not that I wasn't already. I was a terrible dirty person.

I killed my friends. That made me terrible. I would never live it down. I would always remember the screams and panic filled eyes of my closest friends. They were almost brother, but truthfully I think we were always closer than brothers.

We went through hell together, but I'm the only one who lived to tell the tale. I didn't think I could ever tell the tale.

I slowed down to a walk. The trees were growing thicker and thicker. The forest was blocking out the sun, but it was also blocking out the smoke rising from the place I was raised.

It was at this point, that I realized, I would always try my hardest to survive this. I could live on for my friends who are dead. I could live on for my brothers. For everyone who died by my bloody hands.

I realized how cold it was, the middle of the snow season probably. I glanced at the sky and wondered what the snow would actually feel like underneath my rough touch. I wondered if it was soft and wet, or dry and cold.

I didn't know where I was going; I just knew that I was leaving that place. I was leaving hell. The weather was getting colder and colder as I walked through the forest. I was hoping to find somewhere to stay, but soon the reality started crashing down on me that I probably wouldn't.

I would die. I would die be starvation or from the cold. At least I could be with everyone else. I could rest easy, but somehow, my feet kept moving forward. They wanted me to live, I guess. I looked up toward the sky and noticed that the smoke had cleared.

The blueness of the sky made me stop. It looked fake. Like I was in some sort of dream. If I was in a dream, I couldn't decide if I wanted to wake up, or I wanted to stay asleep because I was finally free. A few clouds cut across the sky. They raced each other out of my view.

I kept walking until I got to a road. I looked both ways before decides that I would go right. It was almost night, and my light clothes weren't keeping me warm. I was shaking from the cold. I tried to run, but soon I got tired.

All I could do was think, but I didn't want to think about anything. Everything that came to mind reminded me off the friends that were now dead. It didn't seem fair that I should escape and not them. So I kept going down the road.

As the hours got later, I got more and more tired. I decided that I was probably going to die, but that didn't bother me. I was use to death. It calmed me a little bit. I knew I was probably going to die, but I didn't care. I laid down on the ground and curled up into a ball.

At least I tried to stay warm. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. This was the first time I hadn't worried about what would happen if I woke up. I just slept and slept. I dreamt about nothing. Nothing at all.

I woke up, to my surprise. I was freezing, and my fingers were blue. I put them underneath my arms and jumped up and down trying to heat myself up. It seemed to work a little bit, but not enough were I was comfortable again.

The sun was rising, so I started walking again. By the time the sun was right above me, I made it into town. I looked around as the some people moved things outside of the buildings. Some didn't notice me, but some people glared at me. They looked appalled that I would be standing there.

I lowered my head and walked faster through the people. I didn't know where I was going though, until someone stopped me. I ran into him causing me to fall down. I looked up at how tall he was. He looked down at me with a smile on his face, and another child at his side who didn't look happy.

"That's how I got here," I said, smiling a little bit, "I'm really grateful for young master and Sebastian. They saved me when I thought I wanted to die, but I really didn't."

Mey-Rin looked up from the kitchen counter, "That's horrible, Finni! Absolutely horrible!"

I smiled and rubbed the back of my head before leaving for the garden out back.


So sorry for the crappy ending. I hope everyone enjoyed this story! I appreciate any type of feedback.

Amely'Trs

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Leto Lelantos

AwsomeKity

I thank you all for your wonderful reviews on my story. If anyone has a story idea for me, or prompt for me, PM sometime! I don't bite I promise. :3

Have a good day!