Racist - the year 7182

Racist - the year 7182

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WpMetadataReadMaduroEm andamento1h 20min
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização sex, jun 12, 2015
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It is the year 7182. The races have split millennia ago. The trivial small wars between races, as in White, Chinese, Mexican or Indian, even the English and Russian wars are long forgotten. The fourth and fifth world wars were child's-play in comparison. This development gave a new meaning to the term 'Racist'. Evolution brought a bigger, shrewder and the most frightening manifestation to the history books. The races have split. Man versus Woman. Male versus Female. It was over a long period of time that this revolutionary evolution transpired. That women started to despise the male race for their dominance, god-like attitudes and savage cruelty. Clusters of women started to move away from the central cities where men ruled, to the outskirts of our continent. Finally the day came when the last woman - without pressure (that's the rumour in any case) stepped through the gates of Feline - that's what the woman call their city - and the final split occurred. Will men be able to live without Women? Would women survive without men? Would the human race survive? Will they ever unite again and if so, what will it take?
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Re-posting. The common story is that finding a mate is supposed to make the wolf stronger. For an alpha, finding his mate, blessed by the moon goddess, strengthens the pack. But there can be such darkness hidden in that dynamic. Even those of cruel hearts can seek the power of a mate. And the damage they cause might not ever be healed. ***** Prologue: Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythm or the water would have been soothing if it hadn't been so cruel. Drip. As it was, it was nothing more than a taunting form of torture. Drip. Ears could hear the soft thudding of raindrops at the end of the hall as a door was pulled open in squeaking protests and then shut with a harsh metallic clang. How the rain made its way into the depths of the cement room, it didn't matter. It was there. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. The footsteps were strong and full of purpose. Though just as unwanted as the drops of water that fell too far out of reach. Unable to quench the dehydrated desperation chained to the wall. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. Only one set of footsteps. There was no question of the destination or purpose that carried them down the hall. Not that it was a surprise. It was always the same. First the pain, then the visit. The cell door opened to darkness. There was no energy to move, not even enough to will eyelids to open. Not that it mattered. The visit never changed. What more could be said? What more could be done? All that mattered was that stale, barely edible food was only given after he was done. Only then, could there be any comfort from hell. ***** WARNING- This story does delve into topics of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, murder, and violence. Though the scenes are not explicitly detailed, underage readers are discouraged. Also note that I do not own the rights to any photos I have or might post for this story. Just photos I found online, cropped and edited. The story however, is all mine. No copy of content is permitted.

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