Immortals

Interlude // Shane

Their names and faces were echoing through my mind.

Emery, cherub-like looks but not even half as innocent, quiet and thoughtful in a way most weren't these days. Parker, sly as a fox and maybe more cunning than one, the dictionary definition of genius if I had ever met one. Ashe, bleached blonde and tall as a goddess, the pseudo mother we all needed in these treacherous times. And Mia, dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed, dark all around but so light in her demeanor. The girl who had been there for me through thick and thin, been my best friend since we were kids.

I let them down. I let them all down. They were all in danger of being found because I was caught. From the snippets I had overheard, they had gotten away, but there was essentially a warrant out for their heads created by the flank of guards who had captured me.

If I had run a little faster, maybe I could've saved us all. But now, even though I was the only physical sacrifice, there would be widespread danger and the destruction of everything we had worked so hard for in the past years.

I hardly even remembered what had happened back there, the heat of the moment turned it into a blur I was still trying to reconcile with.

All I knew for sure was that I didn't have all the time in the world to do so. It likely wouldn't be long before I was gone in spirit. Physically, I would be alive, but not out of free will. I would, inevitably, be subjected to the fate of many Unfavorables before me.

The end of my life would be in the darkness of a holding cell, covered in my own blood, which was drawn from me in attempts to get the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth out of my lips. They wanted me to tell them about Mia, Emery, Ashe, and Shane. They wanted me to tell them where I came from, where to find the others, why I ran, why they ran, all of the things that were meant to be kept guarded.

I was keeping them guarded, and they didn't like that. Especially her, that almost psychotic one with the sapphire eyes that lit up at every inch of harm she could cause me. She seemed to hate me most of all. Every lick from her studded knife seemed to hurt more than anyone else's, and seemed to be the harbinger of much enjoyment to her. She wanted me dead, it was clear to see.

Especially because I had once known her, and even then, she viewed me as a threat. She was relishing every moment she could, because she knew she had finally won against me.

I knew she won too, I wasn't stupid. She had won, I had lost, and I was going to be the one who paid for it.

And the payment would be with my life.