brokenwolf13

Chapter 11

A barren death land. That was the only way I could describe it… Everything was gone, the trees were black skeletons, the landscape was grey and black, the sky a pale grey, blending into the ground. I felt dizzy with grief.

A new realization had come to me. Life was not all fun and play. Eventually, all that joy comes back to bite you in ass. For me, this is what happened. My home, my sanctuary was destroyed beyond recognition. This wasn’t what I had left only two days ago. I sifted through the ashes that was my home, in the place that was my room.

I hoped to find what I had left there. But as time went by and I didn’t find it, I was sure there was nothing left of it. It wasn’t until the shine caught my eyes that I found it. Luckily, it hadn’t fallen too far when the floor collapsed and fell three stories. I picked it up gingerly, afraid that it would shatter like I felt I would.

The multi-colored glass glinted against the sun but it was only half of what I remembered it to be. The heart that I had taken off the night of the fire was only half there. One half had been melted away, leaving no clue that it had once been whole. While the other half still shone bright and perfect, untouched by the scorching flames that had melted the other half away.

“Half my heart burned and died. The other half lived on to cry.” I stood and left, walking until I came upon the Ancient Oak. I gasped and dropped to my knees, tears coming from my eyes. My Oak had fallen. It lay unrecognizable in a heap of blackened wood nearby. I wanted to scream but remained silent, afraid to utter even a sound or I would shatter into a million broken pieces.

In one of the holes that had been left by the roots I dropped my half heart and shoveled dirt around it. The shine disappeared quickly, never to see the sun again. I would never see the sun in the same way. I could never look upon the world in the same careless joy that only a few days ago reined supreme in my way of life.

“Half my heart burned and died. The other half lived on and cried. But that little piece will shatter someday…

…but before then, it will be destroyed piece by piece.” Today, I turn fifteen. My birthday. What a nasty birthday present I received. My dogs died, we buried them in the back yard and set little rocks around them to protect them. My dad wanted to go the pound and rescue a couple of dogs but I wasn’t interested in replacing my family.

So, welcome Monday, and with brought more heart stopping grief. I went to eat my lunch but when I arrived at my favorite spot, I found my tree was gone. All that sat as a reminder of what had been was now a stump with students standing on it.

“I guess today was the day my heart shattered. I’ll be home soon, Shadow.”

The End

Chapter 1

-Blood Warning-

After a night like the one Sam had just had, she had never been so glad to lye down on her soft and warm bed. She shook her head against the pillow, eyes planted to the ceiling. Three empty graves in one night. They must have stumbled upon those who had died in that explosion a while back. She closed her amber eyes, blocking the light of the moon from her mind. She drifted in the twilight zone, random thoughts racing across her mind. As fast as they came, they went. She caught the faint noise of pounding somewhere along her journey. She ignored it at first but it seemed to be getting louder until it sounded like it pounding in her ears. She opened her eyes to find the source.

The moonlight had gone and been replaced by bright sunlight. She turned her pale face to the door on the other side of her room, examining it with great displeasure. She considered not answering but that would mean that whoever was pounding on her door would just come in and shake her till she woke again. She mused for a minuite, the locks on her door where almost impossible to break but the fact that she giant locks on her door would be a cause for concern. Not what she really needed. She decided the best option was to get up and answer it.

She cracked it only enough to look out. On the other side, looking rather distressed, was a palace maid. "Come quickly, Princess." The young women took Samantha's hand and dragged her down the hall, not giving her a chance to dress in proper out-of-her-room clothes. At least she looked decent. They passed windows and halls, being dragged down a hallway by a maid in her sleep ware, Samantha felt slightly awkward. She made a mental note to chew this women out later for the inconvenience.

The maid stopped at a balcony with a number of people on it. Those people included her father, King Royan, her younger sister, Isobel, Callahan Crave, directer of the clean-up committee and CSI, and a number of maids and servants. They seemed to be looking at one thing out in the market courtyard. She sighed. With all the training she had, she got rid of the devious glint in her eye and the smirk gracing her pale, pink lips.

Mr. Crave was closest to her, standing behind the King. He was watching him instead of what everyone else was so dumbstruck by the sight of. He had already seen it enough times.

"Good morning, ."

"Good morning." He seemed tired, his young face looking older than it should. Lines on his face, his silver eyes a greyish color. The bag under his eyes betrayed the hidden excitement of his next words. "Another attack."

She gasped, acting accordingly, and rushed to the edge of the balcony. As expected, on the wall in the center of the market were the word painted in red, almost like blood, "GIVE US FREEDOM." At the bottom of the wall was a very ragged looking corpse with a severed head. she looked at the soil covered body with great hatred. Surrounding the wall was a growing crowd of civilians, this she smiled at but quickly stowed the expression away for later. They all looked with awe, shock, fear, sadness, or anger. People wailed that the threat be killed, destroyed, terminated. Others called that the king should just give in and let them go.

"Oh, no," she muttered, "not again."

"'Fraid so, dear," her father said quietly. He also looked tired but not as worn as Mr. Crave did.

She looked at him suddenly, an expression in between fear, hope and caution written on her face. "Maybe..." she trailed off, looking back to the words painted on the wall. "Maybe... we should... let them go..."

Her father suddenly turned on her, looking furious. It surprised her at how fast he advanced on her, towering over her before her tired mind had time to react. "Let them... Let them go! If we let them go these attacks will only increase. They don't understand I'm trying to help them!" He backed off, strain written on his face. The mood swing left Samantha a little scared, still wheeled back on her heels, hands up in an innocent gesture. She looked to Mr. Crave but said nothing to her father.

"Mr. Crave, I want this mess cleaned up and at least one individual suspect by tomorrow evening." The king paused and turned to his subordinate, Mr. Crave put away the angry expression just in time, "is that enough time?"

"More than enough, Sire." Mr. Crave replied silkily, hidden annoyance in his smooth voice. He turned and departed from the balcony, tail coat waving behind him as he strode off. She watched him go, feeling a pity for the young man.

She looked back at the market but instead of looking back at the message on the wall, the young princess drew her attention to the crowd below. The streets of Sanktered City were as busy as usual. The panic of the painted message hadn't died away yet. She examined the crowd, immediately pulling out multiple people dressed all in black. They all had a single word written on the front of the shirt in blood red letters.

Normally, someone looking at the shirt would think it was simply a frashion statment to wear a shirt with a word in another language. But to Samantha it wasn't just a word. She had seen the word too many times, written it too many times, read it too many times to just let the seeing of it pass her. She knew what the foreign word meant even if no one else did. She knew why they wore it.

One of them was staring at her from the center of the crowd, his blue eyes never blinking. He looked like he was waiting for something, anything. His handsome face portrayed in a hopeful frown.

"Nat..." she whispered to herself as she violently jerked her head to the left as she turned away from the scene. To anyone but the young man, her action could have just been a simple way of getting her long, dark hair from her face as she turned away. But to the blond, he knew what the flick of her head was.

He turned a moment later to be faced with him brother, Scrandel. "Well, what she say." Scrandel asked his twin. Scrandel and Nathanial were identical twin unless for the exception of Scrandel was well tan while Nathanial was pale. Scrandel enjoyed the day hours, working in the endless heat. Nathanial preferred the night life, besides his belief that the city's Black Market, Sank, had a much better pay.

"No." Blue eyes met the identical pair across from him. Scran swore and turned away.

"See ya later." The tan brother said as he walked away.

"Yeah, see ya..." Nat remarked coldly.

Chapter 13

-Drowned in the Storm-

It was empty. All empty. The junkyard, the tunnels, the abandoned track, Sam’s heart. Hollow, cold, empty. She couldn’t believe what she saw around her. The place that had teeming with life in even her earliest memories was still and lifeless. The storm brewed over head, as if Sam where not the only one angry.

Isobel stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at the empty junkyard. If only she could have seen it when it was full of people that would have welcomed her as family, if only it was all still there. She felt as if she would do anything to just go back in time and prevent any of this from happening. To think only a day ago, she was running a mission with them, all of her close friends by her side, always and forever.

She barked a hollow laugh, making Bell look at her with concern in her innocent eyes. The laugh turned into a sob, as she fell to the ground. The storm above them broke, lightning lighting up the world, the palace in the back ground rising like a nightmare out of the darkness and thunder screaming through the clouds. The sounds of Sam’s raw screaming where drowned out by the down pour.

XXX

The storm was moving away, the bright morning sun fight for a chance to shine. Sam stood on the highest mound, looking at the city in apathy. The sun won for room in the sky, bathing parts of the city in angelic light. A cold wind buffeted the two Animars as the world woke at last. With the tempest past and the screams dyeing away as the clouds melted, the city emerged from its slumber, innocent to horrors that the storm had brought.

“So, what now?” Bell asked timidly.

“There is no longer much here.” Bell resisted the urge to flinch away at the death that seemed to echo in her sister’s voice. “We’ll go to next city over; there might be Animars still alive. We’ll have to regroup our numbers and start over.”

Sam turned away from the seemingly beautiful sight. “In the mean time, we’ll have to hide in some city. Not this one though, we’ll be recognized too easily.”

Bell watch with slight amusement as her sister practically surfed down the side of the mound on a large piece of steel. Bell tried as well but ended up falling on her behind instead. She laughed at herself and brushed off. She hoped Sam would laugh but knew she wouldn’t. The Sam she and all of anyone else knew was gone. That Sam had drowned in the storm.

FIN