Lonely Tides

~Chapter Two~

After about two minuites I realised he looked... reletivley normal! He didn't have that many cuts and his face was clean, only about 2 hours of the outdoors on him. He dragged me away. Knocked me out too, though obviously I didn't notice till now.

I wake to stuffy air, long deep breaths and a woman's face over me. She had dark, smooth skin with no spots, blemishes or marks on it, like an actress. Her hair was ringlets of purple glory. Her breath smelt of mint, surprising because there was none left. She stared into my face, my soul.... Something about her. Maybe I knew her? She spoke like one of those gospel singers you can't help but smile at, "Hey darlin'!" she wasn't from England, you could tell. "Y'all right? Y'all in a whole messa trouble!" was I?

It turned out, she was right. Her name was Silvia Bascott, a crew member of the "LHN" team, meaning Live Hard Now! I have no idea what it means but meh. They say they treat peoples the way they should be but... I seen the lasbs, the torture chambers and the places I really shouldn't see. Blood and peices of random body everywhere. It was an underground chamber, a new world. They even had a prison, th type you get killed for anything and turned to meat for the starving people. Cruel world.

I went through their data files. Piles after piles of writing, names, people and capture dates. It turned out they where hunting us and doing experiments on us, things unimagianable. Making kids give birth to mutants, giving them powers undescribable and disecting peices of us even a true scientist would not discover, that the real ones where really the fakes, here to make us happy with lies about our bodies when we are actually complex super beings, in the year 2062 anyway. They where futurists. Not the kind that are time travelers, the kind that seem they should be and try to controll our minds as one big body to give them universal powers. I also saw a folder names "Causes for meltdowns" but as I did I saw a name. A name I knew. Loved. Wished for. Ares Blair.

Blair was our last name and Ares the god of war, my brothers name also. His 18th birthday exactly 7 months before the tornado. I looked through, he'd been here a week before me. It's marked with 'departed'.  He has escaped this place of doom, according to his file. They say nothing fun happens in England. Well it doesn't. Only scary stuff enough to scare all that's in you out onto the floor like in the torture chambers. Looking down his file for clues. Bright Ginger, emerald green eyes, fair skin. Sounds like he's Podesium more than Ares. He's 6"0', weight is roughly 12 stone, average. But something catches my eye, something that nothing else has. Flicking away another annoying curl I see a stamp. Marked with curses of red letters.

TO KILL.

My shock makes me fall over, onto my spine and a few files to break the fall. I pick myself up and dust off, tucking his file in my shirt, only a weirdo would look their. Better not use any names though. Just then one of the many scientists enters, grey short hair and a neat moustache. One of those ones in the craze of 2012 as said in our history books, no one knows why they where though. He saw me and dove. Dove for my arm but I was too fast. My family have odd names. Lola-Mae means Sorrow, mum thinks one letter changes it so I'm 'y' not 'e'. Ares is god of war, greek. Sometimes I think its ironic, other times I realise mums just crazy. Was just crazy.

I dash for the door, swing it open, leaving a dent in the wall and leg it down the coridors, it was one of those movie scenes, people with papers and helping people and all that stuff, me knocking them over and the grumpy ganetor complaining. So I run. Out of this place. Out of hell.

'Departed'.