There was dust everywhere when I woke. The taste of its dry particles letting my damaged lungs cry for air. My eyes hurt, feeling as if thousands of scorpions were clawing at my eyelids. I wasn't capable of opening them. I was just too afraid. I couldn't see anything but I heard everything.
Men, women, children, they all were screaming in terror. Shoutings, warnings, commands. Voices of people I didn't know, voices over voices, all melting together thus nothing, no word said made sense. The sound of war, of rebellion and resistance. I heard people die. The noise it makes when a body was stabbed from behind, the blood splashing on the ground when the head was seperated from its resting place by one single stroke of a sword.
I heard it. Again. And. Again. But still I wasn't able to open my eyes. Besides the burning pulse of my own, still circulating blood, my paralysed body was in shock. No muscle moved as I gave the command to run. Or to even rise to my feet again.
With my eyes closed and my shivering fingers buried in the hard floor below, I felt it... The death around me. The streams of blood warmed my bared skin, they were flowing in little rivers that found their way through the stony ground. I felt the trembling of fighting men who must be just next to me.
Panic crept into my brain, filled every single cell with the feeling of energie to flee but the fear kept me from moving. And the pain.
It was that moment when I realised that my feet weren't moving because of something very massive crushing them. There was a sound like the one a rotating wheel does. Some splitted glass was spread all over the ground and over me. Some of the shards were buried deep into my face. The blood streamed hot from the wounds down my forehead. What in heaven's sake has happend?
"This one's moving! End it!", commanded a bull-deep voice and I froze, stopping breathing. Heavy footsteps came towards me and then I heard a child whimpering. The cry stopped unfinished and the last thing I've heard before the footsteps strode away was the sharp knife hissing through the air, leaving nothing than blood gurgling in the cutted throat.
"Disgusting!", came the bull-deep voice again. And suddenly my face was sprinkled by the blood of an innocent kid. The blood must have been remained on the murderer's knife
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Neither did I dare to open my eyes nor dared I to yield the urge to clean my face off from the child's blood. They were getting rid of survivors. But what was I trying to survive? And who were the ones slicing the throats of little children?
"What about this one? Beauty, neh?"
"Aye. Dead unfortunantly", answered the voice of Bull.
"Want some fun?", the first voice asked and I could imagine the malicous smirk on his face. A chill run down my spine. And my previously stopped breath quickened by the fear of being discovered not as dead as they had thought of me to be.
Now or never! I opened my eyes forcefully just to freeze for a second time instead of running away. There was a scene of horror in front of me. My view from the ground didn't help to feel any less frightened. Bloodstained corpses and severed body parts laid everywhere. Weapons, usefull or completly useless ones covered the ground. Fires, torches, arrows, swords, blood.
Blood, dark red or as transculent as water.
Blood flowing down the bodies.
Blood on the blades.
There was just blood. I saw red. Not just because of my own wounds spilling into my eyes, covering, wetting them with red liquid.
And I saw the two uniformed soldiers looking straight into my eyes. I saw the recognision that I was still alive growing wide in their eyes.
I saw red.
Have I ever prayed to a divinity? I couln't remember but in that moment I did pray. More than my thoughts could cope with. There was no chance of running away, that I was sure of. The heavy object on my legs trammelled my run. I grabbed into the ground, trying to pull me forward, away from my captivity but the pain made me cry for its ending. No, fleeing was not an option. This thing upon me refused to move even if I tried to lift it up.
Tears of panic streamed down my face, I wouldn't get away. I moved every bodypart frantically, but without any change. Soon it was going to be me whose head will be cut off.
"Look at that sweetheart. Buried under this extravagant carriage. No running off, sweetie, neh?"
"Looks like she's in distress, poor thing", came Bull's responing voice. Now I saw his smirking all over his face.
Killing me was not their intention. I followed Bull's glance down my chest. And with rising fear I recognised the completly sliced dress I once had worn. There was nothing that kept the men from seeing...
"Damn you!", I yelled, forcing myself to believe that they would follow my orders, "Take off!"
"Nah, nasty today? Won't take long, won't we?", asked Bull's companion.
"A little protest makes a move on me."
My numb lower body was useless. I gritted my teeth, in pain and in anger. And in fear. I was stuck in this place, and in my futility I was only able to grab a piece of the shattered glass around me. One of it was as large as a hand, maybe it would keep the leering men at distance.
Without hectic the uniformed soldiers came closer, strolling, knowing exactly that I wasn't able to run away.
"Our duties are done, sweetheart, no one's hear to tell us what to do."
"Or what to do not." Both of them laughed. Bull's deep, gurgling voice drowning Neh's.
Oh come on, stop playing your games with me, I'm buried under a heavy carriage have you forgotten that? A carriage whose wood was splitted and drilling into my uncovered, unprotected legs.
Wait a second, when they wanted to play their games with me, their only chance to do so was to rescue me, unintentionally. Oh heavens, I'd have to let them touch me.
To create a carefully considered plan wasn't possible, anymore. My mind was racing uncontrollable. My sight was spinning unstoppably, too. Dizzyness fogged my brain. Oh heavens, please not, loosing coincousness now will cause my certain death.
There was nothing clear anymore. Instead of the two men having reached me by now, the blurred lines made me see a whole army.
"Not looking that pretty in this condition, neh?"
"Our master won't accept a girl like her. But we do, forgotten?" Three Bulls smashed their hands against three of Neh's cheeks. The hard sound made my hear explode. My ability to hear was expanded. Everything was painfully loud.
My soft cry echod in my ears and the sound of it made my head vibrate. I was on the edge of fainting.
The numbness ate its way across my body, I barely noticed the rough hands on my skin. There was no difference when the carriage was lifted from my feet. No difference at all.
The new weight, which now laid itself upon me, was even heavier than the first.
I saw, felt, heard nothing at all.
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So ihr Lieben,
an die Percy Jackson-Fans und alle anderen: Hier war das erste Kapitel einer meiner vielen neuen, flüchtigen und vollkommen eigenen Ideen, die erst einmal ausgearbeitet werden müssen. Doch ich hatte einfach Lust, diesen kleinen Teil für euch zu veröffentlichen. Da ich mir nämlich unsicher bin, wie ich dieses Buch schreiben soll, brauche ich euren Rat.
Wie findet ihr das Englisch? Oder sollte ich doch lieber auf deutsch schreiben :)
Was haltet ihr davon, wenn ich ein eigenes Halbgötterbuch weiter schreibe und es, sobald es vorzeigbar wird :) , hier hochlade?
Fragen über Fragen, aber ich hoffe, ihr habt an der Einleitung von „Her name is Khina - Red as roses, red as blood" Gefallen gefunden.
Eure @NinininaHolz
