"She was like a new light. A new beginning. A new end." - Rick Grimes.
This story is about Bella Sinclair and her journey through the new world of the dead. A story of hope, of justice, of family and most importantly, of love. It focuses on a simil...
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Gideon's POV
"Today is a day of reckoning— oh, yes, it is a day for the victorious."
So this was what they meant... rounding up any Asian in sight before using them as a sacrifice to some malicious God they pathetically believed in. I doubt there was ever a God to begin with, just a simple need to act out on those deepest and darkest of thoughts.
I stood behind several members of the built up crowd, watching intensely as people were dragged out one by one, completely naked, and fixed into pillories. Dumb fuck, if only he hadn't tried to make a run for it. After all the years Minho's known me, he seriously thought I would hurt him... all because of those fuckers. My thoughts were interrupted when a drunk collapsed into the side of me.
"Well, grab him." One of the women demanded.
I snickered, ignoring her and letting the fool drop to the ground in a heap.
"What an asshole." Another voice spat.
As if such notions of disgust could ever sway me. I kicked the guy onto his side, giving myself more room. But through the commotion, I spotted someone.
"Bella." I whispered, having caught sight of her at the further end of the square. My eyes narrowed to find one of those guys that we met earlier stood right beside her. He had a look of knowing on him, watching her closely, while her eyes— wait, why does she look so scared? I followed her eyes, only to find even my cold heart drop into the pit of my stomach. I don't feel things like this. I'm not a good person, I've done things, some of those things I still do now, but this— this struck me to the core.
"No- no! Don't! Don't— you fuck— don't touch him—"
Another man was dragged out and locked into the last remaining pillory. But what had held my heart in place was the sight of a baby having been brought out and placed on the stone alter. What the fuck is this shit.
"Argh— no! I'll kill you— I'll fucking kill you—"
"Put a muzzle on this one." The head honcho ordered.
As shouts, laughs, cries, muffled screams, and everything in between, took over, I caught sight of Minho a few positions down from the last pillory. A sigh escaped me, as my brain whirled over just how I get him out of here.
"God damn it!" The same grouching leader yelled out. "You're killin' the vibe man." He beckoned down to the Asian who had since been muzzled— but that wasn't stopping him. He kicked and pushed his limbs without rest, seeping in desperation and suffering, which all seemed to be in effort toward the baby. I wonder... is that his own? A father reaching for his child. What an unsettling sight. Still, these things happen in this world, more than ever before, and without law or repercussions to restrict them. "I ain't even gonna tolerate this— chances are given when deserved. But you— you aren't deserving." The leader rammed his boot into the back of the mans thigh before demanding one straight forward order. "Slit his throat."
