The Wicked Trial | Wickeds Vs. Morals Short Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

       The break of dawn, everyone in the fort was gathering around outside, waiting for the announcement I hated hearing everywhere. I was one of the few people who didn't agree with this little 'game' the Wickeds put an unexpected soul through.

       I didn't let anyone know I didn't agree with it. I was supposed to keep up an image of a brave and daring person, just because my mom and dad were the two most wicked people living in Peyetia. Of course, their son and daughter would be just like them.

       I was, in a way. I liked causing destruction, breaking rules, defying basically everyone.

       I didn't like seeing other people in distress, and I definitely didn't like causing harm to others.

       I didn't dare let anyone know that about that, about how I was barely anything like my parents. Peyetia was all about everyone following their fate. What if my fate had nothing to do with me being wicked like everyone else on the Wicked Side.

       However, I didn't bother hiding how I felt about The Wicked Trial. As everyone gathered around the crackling bonfire to wait for the chief to call who would be attempting the trial, I had a scowl on my face the whole time.

       My parents noticed, and my dad sighed heavily. "Grimm, stop looking so....grim," he said.

       I laughed sarcastically. "Hilarious. Like I never heard that one before."

       "Can you blame me when you're acting like this?" Dad asked. "This trial is supposed to show how strong and brave us Wickeds are."

       "How?" I asked. "It's the same thing everywhere. Someone gets called to go, nobody volunteers to go with them, they never return. You want to talk about being brave? Get people to volunteer to go. The only reason why people are going alone is because nobody is actually brave enough to attempt the trial."

       My parents never liked the attitude I gave them, which made no sense whatsoever because they always taught me to speak my mind, to never be afraid to defy anyone. Unless they are the ones being defied, that is.

       "It's a good thing those people never made it back," Dad said. "We need brave and strong people considered part of the Wickeds. We don't want anyone weak."

       I was trying my best to keep my anger under control. Nobody ever deserved to die, if that really was what happened to the people who never returned. Either that, or they got lost and had to make life where they were right now.

       So, I didn't bother replying to my dad. I didn't want to get even more angry.

       The worst part? Anybody over the age of twenty were never called. Apparently, they already proved themselves to be wicked after all the feuds, battles, and wars against the Morals.

       Once the sun had completely set and everyone had gathered around the bonfire, everyone was silenced by the chief of the fort who held up his staff. No voices could be heard, so the chief began talking. "Welcome, Wickeds, to this year's Wicked Trial!"

      Everyone cheered hearing those words. Everyone but me, and even my younger sister Arcadia. She didn't agree with the trial either, but she was never vocal about her distaste. She left that all to me.

       "You should all know how this works," the chief continued. "Beside me is this cauldron filled with names of those eligible for The Wicked Trial. Once I add all the ingredients in, a puff of smoke will reveal the name of the one chosen for the trial."