Are You Lost? You Should Be.

Chapter One

Warning(s): Violence, and blood
Swearing and cursing: None

04 Meïy 1309

Everyone births the same. Everyone passes the same. Yet, nobody is the same.
~Princess Lu Jèzebel

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LENA STONE
Jagged scars, bruises, and cuts cover my entire body. In front of me, he raises the leather whip above his head, and brings it down forcefully onto my back. Small pieces of metal nic deep into my flesh, and the ropes tied around my wrists chafe my skin to the bone. Blood floods heavily from the wounds on my naked body, following the curves of my body.

I scream as the whip catches part of my ear, and I feel skin being torn and stretched. What have I done wrong to deserve this? "Again!" orders a young man dressed in a clad of silver armour, no older then fourteen. The dreaded whip is brought upon me once again, and I prepare for its strike. I close my eyes, and I feel the lash strike me across the face. I open my eyes slightly, and I feel a fiery pain sweep across my vision, and I close them again.

"Stop," the young soldier says.

I try to open my eyes. Must he have pity on me? The whip strikes me again, and the soldier draws his sword. "Did you not hear me?" he bellows, his voice echoes inside the cold, dark chamber. "I had ordered you to stop! How dare you disobey me . . . ."

"Nobody raises their voice against me!" the man with the whip retorts. I open my eyes, and swallow the pain. I feel my breaths becoming shallow as my heart begins to fall away. The man with the whip drops his weapon, and the soldiers around the room draw their swords toward him as he scowls at the young man. His gaze returns to me. "You," he says. "This was all your fault, if you hadn't-" suddenly, the man is struck down by the young soldier, his sword impaling the man in his chest. He gasps, and chokes up blood in exasperation. He mutters swears, and begs for mercy under his breath. "No." my savior says, and all swords are drawn against him, but not one of the soldiers take action.

"You." the young boy says calmly, peeling off his helm (helmet). "Your name?" he says, and I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I cough, and clear my throat. "Princess Lena Stone, of Stone" I say hoarsely, "that's my name." He smiles, and takes my hand. He places the hilt of his sword in the palm of my hand, and I take it.  "Do not be afraid, princess Lena." he whispers.

The boy closes his fists and his eyes, he breathes deeply. All the soldiers surrounding us extange glances and ready their swords. His eyes turn black, looking dead. His skin turns a dark grey, and an oily black fog emanates from his chest, an uncontrolable darkness fills the room. All of the soldiers fall to the cold ground dead. Panic begins to arise inside of my chest, and questions flood my mind.

The boy turns around, brushes away his long dark locks. He walks forward, and he tilts my chin up. I feel the bitter cold touch singes my skin. "Try to kill me if you wish, Lena." his voice is deep. "But I am already dead . . . ." ♧

End of Chapter One
Thanks for reading :) ~elementalmorro