Imperfect

Part 3

I was dragged all the way to the center of the town. "Hes making this public!?" I screamed in my head. I was so afraid to speak. I wouldn't be able to handle another strike to the face without blacking out. I could already feel the side of my face tightening and swelling.

The guard swung me around and threw me to the ground. Instead of hitting the concrete I landed on what felt to be a person. When I looked to see what it was I found Valencia holding Zorah in her arms sitting on the ground. Valencia's face was covered in scratches and bruises. She must have tried to resist.

"Valencia!" I cried as I leaped towards her. "Whats happening? Wheres mother?" I shouted. Valencia just starred at the ground clenching Zorah in her arms. "They caught her" She said coldly. "I...I don't know where they took her." All I could do was stare at her. It felt like everything had frozen around me.

As people gathered trapping us in the center of a circle we just sat there. Holding each other. Looking helpless. Just then horns began to sound announcing the kings arrival. All heads turned when more then 50 guards marched by 10 of which carried a large cart on their shoulders. The king had arrived.

The horns ceased and all fell silent. The 10 guards carrying the large cart set it down infront of us. The door opened and out stepped king Enwar.

He stepped down from the cart then stood in front of us. He peered down at us looking dead into our eyes. A wicked grin cracked across his face. Chills ran all through my body. I was so afraid.

Discarding the grin he placed his hands around his back, and spun on his heals to face the crowd. "People of Andacia. It appears we have discovered a group of rebel spys taking heed in our utopia" He announced loudly. Everyone suddenly burst into whispers and glares. " Luckily we have one of the rebel leaders in our custody." He said while jestering towards the guards. Four guards disappeared into the cart the king had arrived in. A few seconds later they were dragging out a large black sack. Whatever it was inside of it was fearfully kicking.