It was like the devil had arrived at my front door.
Smoke drifted and curled into tendrils of death as it snaked through the streets of Atel, forcing itself into your lungs. A deep, suffocating poison that ate you from the inside out.
Fire that leaped like dancers through the hazy air, heated fibrils that sucked the unfortunate in and devoured them like a hungry predator.
A horror beyond imagining.
All of it playing out before me like a memory. A memory that I couldn't get rid of—one that wouldn't fade, but one that burned like the inferno that surrounded me. Every second ticked by, unaware of the terror that unleashed in its midst.
I slipped away from my grime tinted bedroom window, each fiber and muscle in my body singing. My people were dying.
I could hear the shouts of my parents from downstairs; their hollow voices drowned out by the continued screams from outside of our house. The screams of the
innocent. . .
And then came the bone stilling sound of our front door exploding. The cries of my mother. The sound of her body hitting our kitchen floor.
My father's desperate pleas. The thump of his body hitting the floor.
My mind swirled, and my heart thrummed. It didn't make sense. This wasn't happening.
Waves of white-clad stormtroopers continued through our streets, the sounds of their blasters trilling like a chorus. An explosion that erupted in the distance, fire licking the sky.
Rapid footfalls pounded behind me as several someones marched up the stairs at a low run. I fell beside my bed, burying my head in the palms of my hands. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
"You!"
I didn't register the voice as my chest went up and down in rapid rhythms. Another explosion, another group of voices cut off like a lifeline.
"Stand up!"
I reluctantly pried my eyes upward towards my parent's murderers, a half dozen stormtroopers. Their black lenses flashed back the scene that unwinded outside—the flare of flames, the crimson spray of plasmablasts.
"I said, stand up."
Each word felt like a slap to the face. Gritting my teeth, I rose from my spot, careful to keep my hands out to show them I was unarmed.
"Hands on top of your head."
I put my hands on top of my head.
The trooper who was talking, a First Order insignia branded on the side of his stark white pauldrons, gestured with the tip of his sniper.
Another soldier walked over and grabbed my wrists. Both shoved behind my back, and a band of alloy restraints coupled them together.
"Bring her out. The General wants prisoners."
Without warning, I was prodded down the corroded stairs that squeaked and shuddered under our feet.
It felt as though a boulder had harnessed itself on my shoulders as we walked past my parents. My mother lay there, stunned, her head facing the ceiling. Blood ran down the side of her lips and gathered in a small puddle on the floor.
Father lay beside her; head turned to the side. A nasty purple bruise had bloomed on the side of his neck. I turned away.
I would remain strong. I had to. Even though every muscle in my body screamed to be used, to pummel these troopers that were most certainly leading me to my death, to avenge my parents, I would be impregnable.
The smoke-filled air assaulted me once we stepped outside. A choking smog that rested like a blanket over the city.
Bodies lay haphazardly on the streets, crimson blood soaking the dirt like a battle scar. I could hear each voice, each scream for help. Each one that was abruptly cut off, silenced forever.
Some of the troopers had rounded up a group of frightened villagers, their eyes as wide as apples and hair disheveled and plastered against their sweaty temples.
They prodded them with the butts of their blasters towards the center of the square, any who dared rebuke shot on sight.
"This is the last one," I get pushed forward, stumbling against the sudden force.
Above me stood a man, his attire much like those of most First Order officers. Cloak ironed to a finish. Hair slicked back so that not even a wisp of his ginger lock was out of place.
"It seems we've found a blossom within the blood," the officer stepped forward so that he loomed over me like a menacing shadow, one that could swallow me whole.
He grabbed a tassel of my hair and wound it around his gloved finger, tugging slightly. I winced.
At my sudden irritation, he smiled, a brittle expression that never found its way up to his emerald eyes.
"Yes, I think she will do," the officer gave one last tug of my hair before flicking it away. "Bring her aboard."
"Yes, General Hux," the stormtrooper gave a crisp salute, clicking his boots together, then turned back to us.
"Take her in."
A hand came down hard on my shoulder, and with a kick to the heels, I was forced forward. As we began to exit the square, the blood-curdling screams of the villagers pierced the air as a wave of bullets hailed them.
They were gone—all of them.
The reality gripped me like an icy kiss, an old lover's caress—people I would never see again. Children who would never feel their mother's arms again, never hear the fantastical stories that came from their father's lips.
All of it, reduced to steaming piles of ash as though they were no better than the dirt they now lie on, blaster holes fuming in their shoulders and chests.
I hated them. I hated them all! All the bedamned First Order, every person who supported their cause. Everything they stood for.
They had taken my parents, and they had taken my friends, they had taken my peace. And now I was ready to fight.
I am Jani Svero.
Revenge will be mine.
Hey guys! Thanks for reading the first chapter in my Dark Apprentice fanfiction! I hoped you enjoyed it, and if not, make sure to give me tips on how I can improve in the future. Always open to criticism.
Thanks again!
xoxo