The Scorned (Finished)

I remember the scene like it was yesterday. The argument with my father in front of our little hut. He always did say I was way too angry for an eight-year-old, I suppose he was right. When suddenly the raiders appeared, we didn't even notice for the sounds of our own yelling. They rode through our home, the collection of small and frail shelters we affectionately called a 'town', slaughtering everything that was in their way like children killing bugs.

When my father finally noticed something was wrong, he turned back to me and yelled, "Get your mother and sister and hide in the basement. RUN!"

I tried to sprint inside, but the first raider was already upon us. I spun around at the door just in time to see my father get sliced open with a sword and my body froze. -- I wanted to run, but nothing happened no matter what I tried-- A bandit slowly walked up to me and with a grin and drew his sword with a dramatic flourish that told me I was going to die. He raised it above his head and made to swing down; when, suddenly, another of the raiders blocked the strike. Still paralyzed with fear, I could only listen to the two bandits argue over whether I was the right age to be taken or not. Eventually, they agreed on taking me alive on the grounds that, if I didn't get the approval from 'the doctor', they could just kill me later. The first bandit seemed to be blindingly fast to me when he spun around and bashed the hilt of his sword into my temple, which caused me to crumple to the ground. The only thing I could do was curse my own weakness before passing out long before I hit the ground.

For what felt like months I was dragged behind those raiders. Every village they came to meant more boys and girls around my age and younger to be collected. Finally, we came to what looked like a huge prison and stopped marching at last. As a group, were herded into a giant atrium; and, eventually, a man came out and introduced himself as "The Doctor."

He explained to what had to bee the hundreds of us that we were all 'lucky' to have been selected for his experiments. That our time there would consist of 'two different trials'. The first was that, once a week, we would be getting injections to help him with his research on 'creating the next level of human evolution' as he called it. The second trial consisted of how 'willing' we were to survive. Apparently, there were currently 200 captives under his 'care' at that time, and once every morning 200 portions of food would be left out for us. A 'portion' being the bare minimum amount of nutrients the average child in our age range would need for the day. He went on to say that the food would all be gathered in one spot, and on a 'first-come-first-serve' basis. So, if someone took (say) ten portions for themselves, then nine others would go hungry that day.

He stayed silent after that in order to let everything sink in -- we were at each others mercy, exactly two hundred children struggling not to die, all the while being experimented on.

We were then down a hallway in a single file, each of us meeting with The Doctor to receive our first injection and to then get a number tattooed on our left ankle that we were informed would replace our names. When my turn came, The Doctor asked me my name, but my only reply was the burning hatred in my eyes, knowing it was a trick and my old name didn't matter. He only raised an eyebrow as he injected something into my arm. It didn't hurt, at first; but, all of a sudden, I felt a ravenous hunger. Sudden pain in my ankle distracted me from the feeling for a moment as I looked down to see that I was now number '200'. -- Confusing, as I was sure I wasn't last in line. However, I was snapped out of my thoughts when the doctor asked if I 'knew what was going on'. I still refused to answer and a nearby guard clubbed me in the stomach, causing me to drop to the floor and retch up my empty stomach, struggling and unable to catch my breath.

The doctor kicked me over onto my back and stood over me, "Now, 200, you seem like a smart one. Tell me what it is we are doing here."

Through clenched teeth and rough gasps, I responded, "The first injection was only designed to make us hungry. Once the weak have been culled, you'll probably start the real testing on whoever's left."

The doctor said nothing but nodded; somewhat impressed at my correct assumption. After that, I was ordered back to the atrium, our new 'home'. Once all 200 of us had been marked and injected, The Doctor re-appeared at his podium once more to finish addressing us for the day. "Congratulations, you all have done such a marvelous job that it is now time for food."

At this point, a group of his raiders carrying dozens of large boxes dumped exactly two hundred small loaves of bread onto the floor dirty floor in front of us. Everyone paused for a moment, waiting to see what everyone else would do, then the hunger took over and everyone dove for the food. Punches were thrown, people were stepped, shoved, clubbed, and bitten, but somehow I was able to make it to the pile of bread and I snatched two for myself and made it out of the melee with only a bloody nose; which I figured was comparatively lucky. I ran to a far corner of the room and was about to devour my bread when I saw a tiny girl back at the pile of struggling starving bodies. She was too scared to attempt to try and grab food, only impotently hovering at the edge of the mass hoping for mercy or to catch something cast off by the group.

I was starving, and angry; trying to block everything else out and eat in silence. There was no denying, unfortunately, that she looked just like my sister and that drew me to her through my instincts to survive. I knew that it wasn't her, that it couldn't be her; but, at this point, I was for anything to be some semblance of normal. I walked up behind her, careful not to get anyone else's attention, and grabbed her arm; which caused her to jump and give a meek yelp. I held up the 2 loaves of bread and started back to my corner, effectively ordering her to follow me; which she did almost immediately and without question. Once we were far enough away I handed one of the two loaves out to her, simply saying, "Eat".

She paused for a second, I assume out of fear. I suppose I didn't really have to tell her what to do with the bread because her hunger was already too much, and she snatched it out of my hands and ate almost without chewing. When she was done, she tried to introduce herself to me but I stopped her; not wanting to get attached, and pointed to her leg.

She got the message and said, "13."

"200." Was my detached reply.

The first week was the exact same experience every day, with two hundred loaves of bread all but thrown at us followed by a mad dash of starving children. Sometimes, 13 and I would get lucky, and I would be able to grab three or four loaves for us to share; but, once, I only managed to grab one and we had to split it. Either way, this was just a short term fix and I would go to bed knowing that, if I kept trying to save 13, then we both would starve eventually.

Week two began with everyone getting in line again for their injection. When it came to be my turn, I let the injection happen without protest or angry looks, thinking it would be the same as the week before; but, this time, it was different. As soon as the substance entered my body I fell to the floor in pain. It felt as if my blood was turning into fire, and that I was burning alive from the inside. Two guards present dragged me out of the room and dumped me back into the atrium where we all had accepted as home. I watched as, eventually, everyone else was dumped on the floor like I had been. Eventually, the doctor came out and congratulated us all for 'making it through the first week'. He continued by saying that 'twenty-five' children hadn't made it through the first week, so now only 175 loaves of bread would be distributed to us every morning in the coming week.

This predictable process continued for weeks that turned into years, and, eventually, a decade.

(With the decade passing we jump to the present time.)

Only 5 of us were left, numbers, 2, 6, 7, 13, and myself. We all had long since fallen into the same routine of getting a weekly shot but now, with so few of us left, we had to fight each other directly for our food. No more incandescent brawling in a pile. I was able to hold my own against anyone, but it had become almost impossible to support 13. On a good day, I could get us both a loaf, but, on a bad day, we either had to split one or go to bed starving with nothing to eat.

I could see the toll this was taking on 13, she was clearly getting weaker and weaker as the days went on. Finally, a new week started and we lined up for our injections, but 13 stayed on the floor. I extended my hand to help her up, but she softly squeaked out, "I'm sorry, 200, but I can't move anymore. I just can't."

I sat on the floor next to her and wrapped my arm around her, not saying anything but just holding her close and gently rocking the two of us. Partially out of a desire to comfort her, but mostly out of frustration and anger. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry, knowing what was coming; when, suddenly, I felt a soft kiss on my cheek.

"My name... is... Rebecca."

I turned to Rebecca and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead without meeting her eyes, "My name is Leo. It's alright if you want go to sleep, Rebecca. I'll be right behind you."

With that Rebecca crumpled into my lap with a gentle smile on her face. At that, after all the years of forcing myself not to feel, I couldn't hold back anymore. My only friend and the closest thing I had to family left was gone, and I burst into tears. All the emotions, everything I had been forcing down the last ten years came rushing out of me.

Through the searing pain of my tears, I looked up to see 2, 6, and 7, standing over me smirking. One of them, I didn't care who, seemed to laugh as he spoke. "It's about time that bitch died. I don't know why the hell you kept her alive so long. It's not like she ever 'paid you back' for..."

Hearing those words and the implication behind them, I let my anger take over me. Hell, I welcomed the purity of the rage I felt, letting it drown out everything else I was feeling with its clarity of purpose. In my blood, I felt the familiar feeling of the weekly injections; the fire engulfing all of my being, but, this time, there was no pain. I leaped up to face the three and instantly my fist found the nose of 2, sending him sliding backwards on the floor before stopping and laying there in a heap. As I turned to face the others, 6 hit me in the kidney with his own punch. Impressively, it hurt like hell; but it was nowhere near enough to stop me. Still on autopilot, my head snapped forward and slammed into 6's eye socket, sending him onto the floor right next to 2.

Suddenly, I felt 7's fist catch me in the jaw; but, this time, there was no pain. He looked at me with terror in his eyes and turned to run behind two guards who were approaching with their swords drawn. The first lunged at me and sank his sword into my forearm. Without thinking or caring I grabbed it by the blade and pulled it back out. Both guards tried to slowly shrink away from me at this; one of them even asking, "What are you?" with no small amount of fear in his voice.

I looked down at my arm, more curious than anything, and saw that the wound had already closed and a scar had taken its place.

Still driven by the wonderful, numbing rage, I stopped thinking and fought everything and every one I found until there was no one left.

Eventually, I came down from whatever had taken me over, and I glanced around myself and saw that I was the only one still alive. Blankly, I returned to where I had left Rebecca's body and gently scooped her into my arms as though she was still alive. The warmth had not left her skin, and I hade to then fight myself and the desire to believe that she was somehow still with me.

It took hours, only knowing the Atrium all those years, but eventually, I was able to find an exit; not caring what or who else I might find within.

I picked a direction at random, and with Rebecca in my arms, I kept walking until the building that had never truly been our home was well behind us and gone from sight. Looking around I saw that I had come to be in the middle of a meadow filled with roses. I reverently laid Rebecca on a patch of bare ground and began to dig with my hands. I dug for hours, numbly moving handful of dirt after handful of dirt; and, eventually, I deemed the hole big enough and I laid her body in it, took one last look and slowly covered her.

For some time I laid on the ground next to where she was buried and cried silently. I whispered, "See you soon," to the soft earth and closed my eyes; hoping that I would never wake up again from the sleep that took me.

(Hey everyone, hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I just want to give a shutout to Airwrek for helping me clean this chapter up, if you enjoyed it make sure you give them a follow. They have some awesome stores.)

(And, as always, thanks to Kizu for helping me with all my stories.)

Happy readings Chuck210 & Kizu