Cvijet walked down the busted hallway. The wallpaper was crumbling and missing in many places. The dim lights flickered and completely died from time to time. Every so often, a shudder would pass through the building and dust would rain down onto Cvijet’s bomber jacket. Of course, Cvijet was used to all that. She had grown up hearing the restless shouts of the patrol men. Grew up hearing gunfire overhead and artillery firing. Manny always said Cvijet’s first pacifier had been an anti-air shell.
Of course, her real name wasn't Manny. In the presence of soldiers, she was Captain Amanda Uzaludan The Second, leader of the Modrulj. With Cvijet, she was Manny, referring to when Cvijet first tried to say Amanda’s name.
Cvijet kept walking down the hall as the building shuttered and dust continued to rain down. She wore her favorite, oversized bomber jacket that had the Modrulj’s symbol stitched in the left arm. She had cargo pants with the pockets filled with nuts and bolts that she kept in case she passed Ero the mechanic in the halls. Her hair is tied tightly back in a bun that shows more of her face. Her eyes are storm cloud gray and her cheeks have a natural blush. Of course, that's if you can get past the dirt and grime that cover her face. Showers are a rare commodity here. The scientist have developed a spray on detergent that rids the people of smell, but the dirt and grime stay.
Cvijet reaches a door marked “Conference Room”. Or rather, what’s left of the sign that says “Conference Room” hangs. Her hand drifts to the rusted doorknob and she turns it ever so slightly.
The door is torn from Cvijet and she is now looking up at the barrel of a black Mat-49.
“Your clip safety is on, Jang,” Cvijet says simply as she pushes past the tall and burly man and into the War Room.
YOU ARE READING
The Modrolj
حركة (أكشن)Cvijet is a nine year old girl caught in between a war of her people and a merciless one. Who or what will they sacrifice for an end?
