Darkness of Chaos
  • Reads 9
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 2
  • Time 1h 27m
  • Reads 9
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 2
  • Time 1h 27m
Ongoing, First published Apr 01, 2019
Mature
Prolouge:Cold and dark have always been my friend. But that's not the worry as I crouch in the snow. Waiting, silently as the seconds tick by. Feeling the icy ground crack underfoot. Hearing the shouting of guards as they find my cell empty. I pull the darkness around myself and walk to my left. Hearing the gunshots echo around me as they fire at the cloud of living darkness. Fear motivates me as I pull what little strength I have and release into the yard. The void of darkness tears through the prison, leaving nothing but steaming ashes where proud humans once stood. Feeling drained, darkness closing in as the world rushes up to meet me . I crumple to the ground as the alarms finally sound off. Listening to the silence around me I pull myself to the trenches a few yards away. Waiting to see if anyone is left to come and  finish me. After waiting for what feels like eternity. Feeling safe, at last, I fall into a deep sleep. Footsteps echo around me as they see Caleb has finally fallen asleep.
"Grab him but treat him gently, we don't want him to wake and run  before we have a chance to explain." a voice says" 
Hands gently pick my body up and they carry me away.
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KILLED

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My best friend's body lies on the wooden floor, her head help up by the rope that is tied around her slender neck, which is secured to the ceiling. Blood still pools out of a wound in her abdomen, creating a vivid red puddle on the cedar planks. Sara's gray eyes are wide open and glazed over slightly, her light hair pulled into a messy side ponytail. When my brain fully registers these details, my hands drop away from my face, I turn on my heel, and then I burst into an adrenaline-filled sprint out the door. I take the steps two at a time, and when my feet hit the snow covered earth, I take off again, running and running as fast as I can, feeling not free, but full of unfamiliar fear. When I tear into the house, I find my mom sitting on the couch, staring at our Christmas tree with a soft smile on her face and a cup of coffee in her left hand, steam swirling up into the air in an intricate and beautiful pattern that only I can see. "Tess? Are you alright?" She's at my side the instant she sees my face, the coffee mug crashing to the floor and shattering to a million pieces, the shards representing my heart. "Call 911", I manage, my shoulders shaking. "Sara's dead." ------- Christmas was never supposed to start like this. My father wasn't supposed to come back, and my best friend shouldn't have been murdered. Now I'm wondering: What have I gotten myself into?