Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger there! I just had to :)
Well I finally updated! Hope you enjoy it, please comment constructive criticism (ooh big word!) and shizzle :3
Anyway, I'll stop going on and get to the story...
-meeeaaaahh
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I stare into the keepers eyes. Before I can even wonder if it’s someone behind me, strong, constricting hands close around both my arms, dragging me to the crowd of people who are about to die. What am I talking about; I am one of those people.
I don’t know what to do. My legs start to shake, I can’t let this happen. I stop in my tracks, my feet fixed to the ground. Then a keeper comes up behind me and grabs my shoulders, tight, to steer me away from the assembly hall. Just then, before I can think of what I am about to do, I fling back my head, right into the keeper’s jaw.
“WHAT THE…?” shouts the keeper as he lets go of my shoulders. I turn around to see him pull a bloodied hand away from his mouth. In three seconds, I am against the wall, two keepers holding me there and seven others pointing weapons at me.
“The little b*tch made me bleed…!” the guard spluttered. All eyes in the room were on me. This was it, I’d done it now.
“Well, this should be fun…” A cold, deathly voice declared. Everyone turned to face one of the keepers. This one was obviously important, as he was dressed in dark blue instead of black.
“So, which one would you prefer... Electro-gun, or Firedart?” Anything would be better than a Firedart, even a shot of electricity pulsing through my body and electrifying my heart; at least it would be quicker.
“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” The crowd of keepers all burst out laughing, including the blue one. Menace and torture were reflected in his eyes, as he chuckled horribly at his own joke. “Looks like it will have to be Firedart then…”
YOU ARE READING
Death Camp
Horror"I still remember the days when I could talk. I remember a lot of things. That's all life is to me now, memories. They rush around my head, too many to control. But the memories that stand out the most, as if they were mangled scars on the skin of m...
