|Chosen To Be
Author: Bluejay73 PM
You are chosen to be something that others dread. Something that will change the the ways of humanity just by your existence. You will experience normal pain humans face as well as agony that is well seen to be brutally inhuman. You will be tortured, killed, and reborn. The only way to escape is to die by your own hand. Are you up for it?Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Friendship - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,080 - Updated: 08-01-12 - Published: 07-06-12 - id: 3039452
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My face hit the ground and mud splashed around. The sun hid behind the horizon and the chill of the cold ran through me. Rain soaked my crumpled form. Light was almost nonexistent, excluding the moon. My eyes were drawn to the crescent. Was this my last glance at life? The wolves will find my body and that will be the end of my existence. The forest seemed endless. I didn't know where I was. I was so hungry. I was so cold. I was so lonely.
I attempted to push myself up from the ground, only to have my arms to give out. I was in so much pain. Wincing, I felt my wounds open and sting from the mud.
Suddenly, the cladding of a canter of a horse brought me back. If they see me, I couldn't fight back. They'd probably kill me. A light followed with the sound of the horse, but I became distorted. I couldn't move. I do not want to give up, but there was nothing I can do. The light hovered over me and the horse stopped beside me of me. They found me and I had no way of escape.
"Hey!" I heard a man call, bitterly. He waved the lantern in front of me, but I couldn't focus at all. I felt dead. The man swore and grabbed my wrist and threw me over and onto his horse.
"You're lucky I'm here and not them." I was shocked. He wasn't one of them? "You and I are both wanted fugitives, so we got to stick together, right?" He was an escapee, too? Who was this man and what did he want with me?
"Let's get you to a medic. You're all torn up."
The horse began to canter again threw the forest. The man placed a hand on my back, next to my whiplashes, making me cringe in response. The rain sprayed my face and matted my hair, sending chills down my spine.
When I began to lose consciousness, the man said reassuringly, "We're almost there. I won't let you die…" I didn't even know this man, and yet he is willing to save me. People like this existed? I wheezed for air. It began to be harder to breath. My wounds ached. Why did I have to be one of the Chosen: the ones that don't belong?
We stopped and I was tossed over the man's shoulder. He was warm against my freezing flesh. My dreary eyes caught sight of a lit cottage yards away. My rescuer sprinted to the building at a break-neck pace. He slammed through the door. He called out for someone while he placed me on my stomach on a wooden table. My vision was lessening to the point were foggy figures were the closest things that resemble humans.
"Another of the Chosen?" a different man asked. The one that rescued me agreed, adding how the wounds were resent. "I see…"
An explosive agony rippled throughout me, then shortly followed by nothingness.