Undesirables
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- Parts 2
It started with the grain of hate that festered in the hearts of both the fearful and the jealous, poisoning both innocent victims and vindictive narcissists. It was the septic toxin that crept through the veins of community and turned neighbour against neighbour based on nothing more than the etymology of a surname or the birth place of a grandparent. It was hateful and uncompromising, and took lives without mercy, just as it had throughout all of human history.
What happened in 2017 wasn't the consequence of Brexit, or 7/7, or even 9/11. It wasn't the consequence of the miner's strikes or the Gulf War. It wasn't a result of the Holocaust, or the Crusades, or the fall of Rome. 2017 came about because people are tribal, and while that can lead to communities holding hands and standing for the greater good, it can also cause them to see people who are 'other' as something 'bad'. As something which needs to be destroyed.
We're considered vermin now; rats to be captured and killed. Undesirables whose heads are covered by red bags marked with the Home Office logo as we're tossed into the back of black vans, never to be seen or heard from again. This is the new order, in the new world. This is 'Great' Britain, the country of my birth where my children, my husband, and I no longer belong.
Welcome to the Disunited Republic of Little England.
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#437
ireland
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𝙰 𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜'𝚜 𝙶𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕...
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The experiment.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.Complete
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