The Elite

Never to love, never to die.

The unborn shall never cry.

Fearful acts are rewarded as bravery,

When our fair world becomes corrupt with stupidity.

Introduction

The Flame

I felt sweat, hot and sticky running down my features, I trembled as I stood up and left him. Like I had never shared an intimate moment with him in my life, for in all realistic realms, I did not know him. He had not known me; just a simple human with a dirty desire that I will have the obligation to fill. I found out over my years how all humanity falls into the same category of selfishness.Not once have I seen one say a kind word, or do a kind thing for another. Only out for themselves, living their simple lives as the center of the cosmos and never a second thinking about the person that may be suffering next to them, too caught up in their own sorrows to notice their surroundings. I felt something rise up in my throat like bile, made me feel bitter, the name for this feeling is hatred and hatred.

After all that I have lost, I assume that all my life is now, and will never be like consists of pleasure, pain, and the valued adrenalin rush. The only things that moved me away from the searing painful path were those key things. Many assume my crazed acts were those of bravery and sheer courage, but no, this is not so. I do these things in an act of cowardice. I do these things to escape the seering pain, that eternal old whip that threatened to tear my flesh off of my bones. I can only look in lust towards the glowing embers known as bravery for I am its polar opposite. I am cowardice.

There is an age old tale that is told and retold time and time again in my caste. In this place, you receive reward for running into fears blindlt with no plan or solution; this is why I do assume most of us have vanished from our earth. This fine group is called the flame, for we hold our flame-our talent- up to the others as a light to which they must look up to and know their expectations for them. Many men hold secrets dear to them, even nearer to them, grudges. I hold both secrets and grudges dear to my heart, a hazardous combination.

I run, I run from my past, my present, and even from my future. I fall towards threatening and painful devices to distract myself from reality and my past. Pain is the only conscious thing that shows me that I am still alive. I am numb, as if my past never happened and I wished my future never would.

Unfortunately, my certain 'gift ' would not allow me to cut away from the rope that binds my hands- my soul- and drags me helplessly towards my future. As much as I would like to say that my grudge and icy hatred have kept me going, that is only half true. My ' gift ' has kept me alive as well.

Humans, very pathetic creatures, very little motive drive and what motive they have feeds off fowl things, even I am not exempt from this. I stare at my knife's supernatural glow in the moonlight, scoffing to myself. I hate humanity, or at least what it has come to be. I wonder if there was ever a human with good intentions. Maybe humans are just built to hate, with the same hatred I have had building inside of me until it threatens to rise out of me. Maybe that is all humans are good for or could there be a bigger purpose for them? From my years of life, I have found one thing: hate is the only thing, and in a society in which fearful acts are hightly rewarded, I have found this fact serves me well. It will be the phrase that I hold dearly to myself for years to come, my survival skills are keen on keeping me preserved so that they will engrave any useful knowledge to surviving into my brain. For the past five years, I have been living in animal mode. I only have two motives that are not basic to this mode which originally consist of the following: finding food, water, and shelter. My needs space out to holding those basic needs as well as hatred anad grudges towards those who snuffed out the compassion I had shared for my family. Those people will pay; I will make sure of it.