Even if life was difficult, it was scary to think about losing it in any way; like it would all suddenly be over, and then there would be nothing left. No regrets, no ambitions, no desires, just an emptiness often described as a release from worldly obsessions.
It was all bullshit.
This wasn't the real reason that death was scary.
Death was scary because no one knows what happens in death.
Even as a street kid that grew up scrounging for food and learning to keep her head low when the crime lords made their routine sweeps, Emerald had been forced to mature early.
There was nothing pretty in death.
She'd seen dozens of individuals down in the alleys getting offed by would-be assassins and screaming in wretched anguish from bleeding wounds and broken bones. When the screaming would stop, there was no peace on the features of the assailant, nor blankness as their life had ebbed away. What she saw was nothing but terror and grief, and she vowed to never end up in such a position; especially when she saw the soulless women left used and discarded out of sight of society.
They'd been beautiful, and she didn't think herself becoming any less beautiful than them in the future, but their ends were tragic; her end may even be more so due to her youthful exotic features, tanned almost brown skin, and unique emerald-coloured hair. She would surely have sold well in an underground market.
That wasn't going to be her, she had vowed.
By chance or by sheer luck, she'd eaves dropped on a group of passing Huntsmen regarding the topic of Aura and Semblances, and somehow managed to unlock her own. This put her head-over-shoulders above the rest among the dingy thieves in town. Ordinary shanks and physical confrontations were meaningless to her as she could overpower anyone without an Aura to rival her own. Moreover, life was starting to look up from its previously low point.
Specifically, with her Semblance that could create illusions on targets, the whole word could be her oyster if she was careful enough.
Then what was happening now?
A throbbing pain emanated from her left thigh where she could see a bullet buried half-way into the muscle of her leg after penetrating through her Aura.
The shot came too suddenly, unpredictable, and bloody accurate in fucking everything up for her without warning.
She was in shock, her fingers clamped over her wound in a subconscious attempt to stop the bleeding, but this also meant that her concentration on her Semblance was broken. The vendor she'd stollen from seemed to wake up from a daze and look right at her and what she'd stolen.
No. No, not again.
Her eyes dilated as the vendor reached out for a walking stick leaning against his shop, and she choked up immediately, her body going stiff.
Memories of days before she'd unlocked her Aura came to mind in horrific fashion.
Helplessness, pain, fear, and unshed tears gave way to childhood trauma.
Caught thieves, even children, were never dealt mercy out here where resources were precious. With her Aura broken she'd feel every bit of pain delivered on her, and with her leg injured, she couldn't escape.
She whimpered as the first blow landed, her knees wobbling before her injured leg gave out and caused her to topple on the ground.
"S-Stop!" She pleaded as she drew into a fetal position, hands over her head.
"You selfish thieves are pests!" The vendor wouldn't relent, and it may have been her fault.
She'd stolen from this guy dozens of times, and now that he'd caught the illusive thief, there was no way the man would let her go easily. Thievery was practically the same as murder out here where food wasn't stable.
YOU ARE READING
The Huntsman of Red V2
AdventureGuardian, Protector, Hero, and perhaps something more, that was what he had always meant to her, but to others he was simply known as the Huntsman of Red, Remnant's final hope. This story is not mine, it belongs to Parcasious
