Rescue
  • Reads 437
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  • Parts 24
  • Time 3h 9m
  • Reads 437
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 24
  • Time 3h 9m
Complete, First published Mar 19, 2019
Mature
Without warning, a hand closed around his throat from behind, lifting 11 off the ground and turning him toward the owner of the hand. It was a Trueborn Mog; the others were Vatborn, cannon fodder, grown to die. This one would have been esteemed as royalty by his companions, had there been any more to esteem him. He looked furious, his hatred clear in his sneer and the tight grip on 11's neck.

Spots swirled around his vision and he struggled to draw a breath. Is this it? The last Mogadorian and I fail at the very end? Cruel.

The Mog opened his mouth to say something, but before he got a word out, a hiss sounded from 11's left and something pierced the Mog's head, killing him instantly.

His vision darkening, 11 looked at the object in the Mog's head as it let go of him and fell to the ground.

An arrow?

And then: nothingness.
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Unreal

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I apply pressure to the bullet hole. The pain nearly causes me to grow numb. Darren scoops me up into his arms as he tries to avoid sudden danger. His cautious movements are for my benefit. I gasp at the sudden pain. My heart pumps faster. Adrenaline kicking in. "Hold on, Autumn." I look up at his face. I never would've thought I'd actually care for him. Darren and I only teamed up because we were running from the same person. My father. When things quiet down around us, he lays me down on the ground. "Autumn, look at me. Please." The anguish is clear in his voice. I'm sure he feels the same way about me. The surprise of two strangers caring for one another. I look up at him with hooded eyes. He smiles weakly. "Hi." "Hey." I croak. He rips the bottom of my shirt and uses it to help apply pressure. It's soaked instantly. "I can't believe that son of a bitch--" He looks at me. "I can't believe he shot you." "He didn't shoot me." I try to sit up, flinching at the pull of my side. "The guard did. He didn't know who I was." Darren clenches his jaw. "You're losing a lot of blood." I force a laugh. "I guess it's a good thing that I'm a fighter." His eyebrows draw closer together. I wanted to say something to easy his concern, but words lodge in my throat, causing me to sputter. It feels like I'm choking. Desperately trying to catch my breath. "Autumn? Autumn!" I try to say his name among my coughing fits, but blackness grabs me with its cold merciless hands before I can get a word out... That moment when you have to learn to accept yourself, but you don't even know who you are. Your reality is shattered. And everything you thought was real, becomes the opposite. (Inspired by a dream)