Running in Pain

Running in Pain

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Aug 13, 2016
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Fiction
Action and Thriller
"Thud, thud, thud." The sound of raindrops hit the ground while I lay there, covered, covered in blood, scratches, pain... I look to the left to see if my friend is alive. "S-Sarah..." I manage to squeak out of my mouth. I hear a groan to my left which means Sarah woke up. "Are you okay?" I try to speak through my dry throat again. I look at her, she doesn't move. Just lays there, looking dead. I manage to crawl over to her. "Sarah, get up." I speak more confidently now. I see Sarah's head begin to turn around and I smile, desperately wanting to see my friends kind eyes again and caring smile. Before she turns around I notice her hand. Something different than any injured hand I've seen... It looks like it's falling off... Rotting even, that's when I see it, her face. "Sarah! No!" I scream so loud that my ears begin to ring. She doesn't reply, she can't reply. I look at her gruesome, rotting face, the face that used to be filled with joy, kindness, laughter. I try to get up, my legs are too injured to even stand. I slip and hit my head hard on the ground. My vision starts to fail, all I see is black, darkness, nothing.
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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.

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