He had beaten the wall red with his own blood. His knuckles bloody and bruised sent waves of pain through his entire body with every punch, but he refused to give up. The more he failed the angrier he burned and the more he burned the more he flared.
He released a low grunt with every attack, the anger consumed him until all rationality failed. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. He scratched at his throat, pleading for his voice to work. To be heard.
But even as he layed crumpled on the floor, weeping blood fused tears of anguish, he wept in silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Seven
Teen FictionSeven strangers awake to find they all have no memories and thw world has reverted to a wasteland. Now they must band together to not only survive the uninhabitable conditions of their new home but also in the hopes of finding the truth behind their...
