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I crept down the empty city street, keeping my eye out for trouble in the seemingly post-apocalyptic world I lived. It was always unsafe to travel any distance in London; you never knew when The X would find you. They were brutal people with the most demonic views of life, seeing only what they could gain from it and caring nothing for others. These police of the satanic tyrant, Edmund Xavier, were ruthless and prayed upon the odd citizen that crossed their path. Most of the city was demolished, decaying under the plants and rubble that had overtaken the once beautiful scene. Looking around at the cracked pavement and skeletal shells of buildings, I almost couldn’t remember the beautiful city of London that had stood here, just six years ago. So much had changed since then, since Xavier over threw the British government in a coup d’etat more powerful than the world had ever known. The city was burned, the queen and prime minister beheaded in the castle front lawn, and a new age began, a dark age.

No one dared resist Xavier, not even the bravest of the citizens amongst the rubble. His temper flared at a sidelong glance. The rows of beheaded people across the front lawn of the castle were a tribute to this, his insatiable brutality. Resistance was futile anyways, the tyrants following of brainless muscles impossible to contend with. They did as they were told, taking lives left and right for seemingly no reason and capturing the city in a state of fear no one could break. One hair out of line and it was your head, the thing most would not risk.

I nervously ruffled my wings as I glanced down the alley to my right. Not a soul in sight. This part of the city had been uninhabited for years, the buildings too frail for use. Any weight and the floors would crash, a body easily buried alive under the rubble. Many people had been lost to the city itself, the once safe home of thousands becoming their final tomb. It would be easier to just fly over this area, avoiding the rubble and danger that was prevalent, but flying would draw attention to myself. Anyone seen in the air nowadays within a few miles of the city center was seen as an attack on the castle and shot down immediately. I had seen it happen many times, the odd person stretching their wings too close to the stronghold of Xavier. I ruffled my feathers, itching to fly just thinking about the action. I loved the feeling of the wind under my black and white wings, the air rushing by, the feel of weightlessness; nothing could compare.

Too bad my small home was near here, where I couldn’t fly. It wasn’t a proper home, just a hole in the side of a brick building that I covered the entrance of with blankets. It wasn’t far now, I just had to walk another block and then turn left.

My shoes flapped as I walked, the leather around my toes split from the sole of the shoes and creating a noise that echoed off the empty buildings. I would need new boots soon. 

My home came into sight then, a motley blanket draped over the opening and hiding it from people passing by and the abuse of the constant London rain. I pulled back the edge of the fabric and slipped in, nestling into the blankets I had spread around the small space. Everything here was scavenged from the city, having no money to my name. I didn’t really think anyone did anymore; with no production going on, there wan’t a use for it at all. No proper society was left, Xavier ruling over a dead city. 

It was warm, the early Autumn air keeping the city a comfortable temperature. I carefully refastened the blanket to keep me hidden as I slept, the only protection between a cruel world and me. I lived in constant fear that someone with ill intentions would find me living here. After six years, you’d think I’d have relaxed but every night I still slept with one eye open (figuratively) and my ears perked for approaching footsteps. Between the hard base of my “bed” and my light slumbers, I hadn’t slept properly in years. 

With a last thought of someone attacking me through the makeshift curtain, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. The silence of the dead city surrounded me, no one and nothing breaking the stillness. 

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