Fallen Warriors ➢ Bellamy Blake

Chapter One: Welcome to the New Age

Chapter One: Welcome to the New Age

Song: Radioactive- Imagine Dragons

"Mom!" I scream. "Mom, no!" I fall to my knees, sobbing as I watch two guards lead my mother into a glass chamber. "Stop! Please stop!" I beg. I try to run forward, but my Father holds me back. He tightly grips my upper arm, to keep me from advancing forward. "They're killing her! They're killing her!" I yell over and over again, fighting against my Father's hold on me.

I see my Mother behind the glass. She has an apologetic look in her eye she offers only to me. I look like her, though her hair is lighter than mine. I have her green eyes. I'm lucky to have nothing of my Father's. For those who didn't know better, my Father and I looked as if we were from different families. His hair was blonde and he had chilling blue eyes with skin that was a shade darker than pale while I had dark brunette hair with unusually green eyes and olive toned skin.

I could see my reflection in the glass. My cheeks were puffy as I screamed for my Mother. I had to be restrained by guards as I had slipped away from my Father. "Mom! No!" I yelled again, as if it would do anything.

I slip away from the hold on me again and run to the glass. I lay my palm on the glass door. On the other side, she does the same, matching up our hands. Tears roll down my Mother's cheeks. She mouths something, but I don't know what she says since the chamber locks in the sound.

A guard pulls out a long saber that glows an eerie blue. The wand emits an electrical buzz, but Councilor Marcus Kane immediately steps forward and throws his hand up.

"Don't harm the girl." He orders sternly. "Let her say goodbye." The guard listens and turns off the taser, placing it back in the loop on his belt. Kane nods to the man in charge of pressing the button that would kill my Mother, but instead of opening the hatch, he opens the door.

"Mom!" I cry and run into the chamber, throwing my arms around her. She tightly embraces me, her fingers slipping through my tangled brown hair.

"I love you!" She promises over and over. She kisses my head over and over. "Tell Troy I love him!"

"I will." I swear and hug her tighter. She kisses me on the top of my head again.

"It's time." Kane says to the guards. One steps forward and pries me away from my Mother. I cry in protest, but my Mother stands still, sobbing, like she was guilty. Like she deserved to die.

The glass door slid closed again and the man pressed another button, but this one didn't open the door again. It opened the hatch.

Within seconds my Mother is sucked from the ship, thrown into the abyss of space.

I woke with a start, sweaty and fighting for breath. I must have been thrashing in my sleep since the thin sheet that I had fallen asleep under the night before was on the floor, tangled in a small, beige heap. I sat up and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I tightened the rubber band around my hair, which was secured in a messy ponytail.

I stood up and lazily threw the sheet back on the cot. I picked up a small piece of white chalk that rested on an otherwise empty shelf in the room, opposite of the wall my cot was pressed against. Kneeling on my bed, I drew another chalk line on the wall to add to the collection of hundreds of dashed. All together, the tallies added up to three hundred and seventy nine days. Twenty six more days and I would be eighteen. This wall was a countdown to the day I would die.

There was an alarm that sounded once, signaling the metal door was unlocked.

"Prisoner Two Forty-Eight. Against the wall." A guard ordered, preparing to unlock the steel door of my cell. I sighed before standing up from my unmade cot. I raised my arms and turned around so I was facing away from the door, my nose almost touching the wall. Electric baton at the ready, the guard slowly pushed the door open with his palm. To enforce that he was armed, he whipped the taser baton out and it emitted a pale blue glow, an electrical buzzing sound filling the small cell. I rolled my eyes as he stepped forward and pulled my wrists down one by one to join them together behind my back with silver handcuffs. The metal felt like ice on my skin, but I had grown used to it after a year. The guard gripped my bicep and tugged me away from the wall, pushing me in front of him and out of the cell. In the hall outside of my cell, we joined the line of guards escorting the prisoners out of the sector.