Blood of The Wicked

Enter Main Character

Special blood types were the new thing to have. Instead of curves or blue eyes and black hair, it was blood types. Why? Because, years ago, there was a book that randomly appeared in a shrine in Greece dedicated to Apollo. Most people didn't think it was a big deal, until nobody could read it. Then everybody advertised if you could read it you would get a special reward, so people started queuing up, trying to get the prize.

Soon pretty much everybody was queuing up to see the "Book of Legends" as the government called it. But a lot of people still couldn't see what it said. Then the government forced everybody they could find to read it, only two people found out what they said, and those two people were tortured and to find out the secrets of the book. After a while, they stopped talking.

The UN, United Nations, then got testy and sent out copies of some of the book's pages to all the countries, saying that they needed to test their citizens to see if they could read the book. It was a very drastic measure to know what a book said, but they wanted to know.

So, after 10 years, people gave up. The UN stopped stopping people on the streets to see if they knew what the book said, the police were issued to discard any of the small blurbs of the book they had on papers, and everybody forgot about it.

Until more people could read what it said.

Police kept a lot for things meant to be thrown away and some of the departments used them as reading material for lowly criminals to try and figure out what it said to pass the time where they were sitting around, waiting for their government issued lawyer or get their charges.

One day, there was a prostitute taken in for possession of drugs who had been waiting in the small room to be interrogated by officers, when she started recognizing small things in the paper in front of her. There was a notepad and pen near her so she started scribbling out a translation, and then the detectives working on a small drug ring in the city, came in and saw her scribbling out onto the paper and actually translating the page of the book.

Immediately, the detectives questioned her on how she could know what the page says. The woman didn't want to speak so she only kept shaking her head, looking down at her hands the entire time.

The detectives left but soon came back with the chief of command, who had requested she be tested for DNA and blood, seeing if she was in the system, and had sat down in front of the frightened woman while the tests were being run.

In the mean time, the prostitute named Ramla and the chief of police named Jack had struck a deal. Ramla was inside the inner circle of the drug ring that the police department was currently trying to get off the street and she knew all the secrets. In return, she asked for protection for herself and her husband.

Because she was so valuable, Jack never thought twice of protecting her, especially when she got pregnant with her first child.

After she found out she was pregnant, Remla made sure that she was out and in a safe environment with her husband. After giving birth, Ramla then fled her safe house, her husband, and the financial stability that the police offered her, all because her son was like her. His name was Jabari.

Jabari was a sweet kid, he was always polite, always had a smile on his face, and made sure others had more than he did since he was very well off from his mother getting a respecting job. But as he got older, Jabari was more and more bitter, people in his preschool kept making fun of his name and accent since he only really heard his mother speak in Swahili, her mother-tongue.

His mother quickly took notice but told him what his name meant, brave and fearless, and that he had to be brave and fearless just like his name or he would disgrace it. Jibari took that to heart, braved the insults at his accent and name, and smiled when he made a friend when he had sat down in the sandbox with another child, this one that looked to be of Asian decent and spoke only broken English.