The Creators || h.styles

Chapter Two

Jay's P.O.V

The electricity flung me back in the chair, but I refused to let out a scream. I gritted my teeth, snarling at the pain. Then it was gone, and I slumped in the chair, panting. Nimble hands undid the buckles holding me down, and I rubbed at the marks carved into my wrists by their tightness.

I grimaced and stood, my legs shaky. My golden eyes drifted to the golden ones of Damien, who nodded and smirked, gesturing for me to come to him. I walked across the cold, damp concrete, coming to stand in front of him.

"Well done. How was it?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "Bearable. I think we'll be able to move it up another level soon." I informed him, to which he gave a satisfied nod.

It had been two years since Damien had taken me under his wing again. I couldn't remember anything between the time from when I left to when he brought me back to him, but Damien told me that he'd simply given me the option to leave and see the world, which I had taken. Not that I got anything from it - I couldn't remember anything.

I didn't see any point in trying to remember or find out what happened during those 20 years, it's not like much could have happened anyway. I shrugged off my thoughts and walked down the long hallway, still a bit shaken from the electro shock therapy. The point in getting electrocuted every day was to get my body to not acknowledge pain, and I was getting quite good at it.

I stepped into the huge common room of the warehouse, finding the only other girl here sitting on one of the couches, surrounded by male soldiers and with her eyes closed. I walked over to her, two of the other Warriors shifting over to make room for me on the couch.

Upon my return I had been accepted with open arms, assuming my previous position as second command. Damien's army of Warriors had grown a lot, but not too much that we were crowded on our hidden island. And it was an island, Damien had bought it during my 20 years absence, and we had moved here so we could fly freely and not worry about being found out by humans. That would just be another death that we couldn't be bothered with.

Another thing that had changed was Damien's appearance. He was missing an eye and his neck was covered with the deepest scars, as if someone had tried to behead him, and his left arm was missing a hand. He couldn't fly very well, as one of his wings had been carved into, but he survived well enough, especially with a whole army of 142 soldier Warriors who would give their lives for him at a moments notice.

And they did. When I arrived here we had more than we did now, but the number goes down whenever Damien sends us out on a mission. I haven't been out since my return, and I was incredibly irritated with that fact, but what could I do? I was Damien's to command, and he hadn't commanded me to leave yet.

"How's the EST going?" The other female Warrior - Vima - asks, glancing at me and smiling.

I shrug, picking at a piece of dirt under my nails. "Good. If you punched me it wouldn't register in my brain, so yeah. Pretty good."

Vima raised an eyebrow but nodded, impressed. I was one of the few willing to go through EST - electric shock therapy - in order to feel nearly no pain. I was left to think over things in near silence, until Damien wandered into the room, many of the Warriors following him. I sat up straighter, wondering what was going on. He must have called a meeting.

"Alright, listen up." He ordered, standing in front of us all, his golden eyes searching each of ours as we fell silent. "You've all wondered why I have been building an army, and now the time has come for you to find out."

I shifted excitedly in my seat, keeping my face composed. Damien had never told us why we were training and building an army, we just went with it. He was our Creator, of course we did what he said without asking why.