Ren

The Oddity

A crack of lightning pierced the grim landscape, illuminating the decrepit atmosphere for a few moments. The sky swirled in an eerie blend of dark brown and green.  There was not much left to the once beautiful skyline, and the city that had once been known as 'New York' was nothing more than a crumbling rotted reminder of how devastating war could be. 

The deafening snap of thunder ricocheted  through my chest like a gun shot and I tightened my grip around my knees; If I squeezed hard enough, maybe I could melt into the rocks behind me.

Maybe that was my power...

Doubtful.

"Sir," a deep voice called again,"sir, we mustn't  linger.  There are still rebels in this area that have not yet been detained."

I remained hidden, perfectly camouflaged. Even the slightest movement would alert them to my presence.

It was always dangerous, venturing to the surface, but with the night quickly approaching I ran the risk of going without supplies. The last night lasted about 89 hours.

I hadn't taken into account the possibility of running into them. The Knight Order routinely patrolled the surface, to either draft in unallied  mutants to their cause or snuff out any remaining Resistance.

The sound of multiple combat boots grew louder and adrenaline flooded through me. I was neither a mutant or Resistance. I wondered what Knights did with unbranded humans.

Well, they probably won't parade me around as a mascot. Maybe they'll kill me quick though... I considered.  Death was not the concept that sparked fear within me.

"Quiet..." another dark voice murmured.

I dared to peek from beneath the weathered, thread bare cloak still concealing my location.  A group of four men, dressed from head to toe in dark, worn leather stood with their backs toward one another; each one facing a different direction.

They all wore different versions of body armor, but they also were individually decorated with different types of weaponry.

Though a shiver of dread spiked up my spine, I couldn't help but feel a small sense of awe in seeing the famed Knights for the first time; well, four of the six, for the first time.

Just then, the tallest figure turned. The helmet he wore, black and chrome with violent bursts of blood red streaked and scattered throughout, honed on my gaze.

Though I couldn't see his eyes, I felt them. I was no longer hidden beneath my cleaver illusion. I might as well have been standing in the middle of the desolate wasteland, dressed in all white, for that's how exposed I felt under his gaze.

"There." 

Running would have been pointless, and fear would have been ill-advised.

Two of the Knights walked towards me, instantly removing the cloak that had kept me hidden and pulled me to my feet.

I looked from one to the other as I struggled to pull my arms free. I wouldn't run, but I hated feeling trapped. I continued yanking, unsuccessfully, until I felt my body pinned beneath an unseen force, preventing me from moving further.

Panic began to rise.

"What is this?!" I yelled at them, receiving no response back.

The tallest one was facing away from me, but the other three figures stood with their helmets facing him. He must have been in charge.

"What the hell did you do to me! Why can't I move?!" I yelled at him.

After another moment of silence, he turned to speak to the one standing next to him.