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Brittany.
Age : 27 Posts : 613
| Subject: "Scars" - Brittany P. Tue 03 Apr 2012, 4:30 am | |
| If you have any comments, please PM them to me with the subject as "Scars". Please and thank you. (:
SCARS
By Brittany Peyser
Chapter One
When you think of somebody who is smart, what comes to mind? Thick rimmed glasses? Their shirts tucked into their pants? Overalls?
Stereotypes. They were all steretypes. If the was one thing that Alexander hated, it was stereotypes. It was because of stereotypes that he was thought to be an outcast when he was in pre-school because of the way he acted, that fact that he was smarter than them all. Nobody wanted to be friends with him, let alone look in his direction. Only one person was his friend, and that was his neighbor Kyle. He was Alex’s only friend, and Alex didn’t mind it in the slightest. They were the best of friends by summer vacation after kindergarten, and then it began. The Apocolypse.
Alex was about four, his birthday to be celebrated within a safe house that was securly underground. For a year and a half Alex, his father George, his mother Mary, his uncle Jacob, and his best friend Kyle were safe. Unfortunatly, Kyles mother was unable to be brought to safety before a building collapsed and came crashing down on her. It was a shame, only a mere four meters more and she would of been safe. Kyle, watching his mother die right before him, fell to his knees with his brown eyes widened in shock. In sorrow. Alex had to grab his friend and drag him to safety before he came to and got into their safehouse. Kyle was depressed for many months, only smiling when Mary had acted like his mother. And even then it was only a small smile. As time passed, however, he started feeling better and wasn’t as depressed anymore.
“Alex!” Kyle shouted one day, shaking his friend to awake him from his slumber. “It’s over! It’s over!” He repeated, estatic. Many of the others had survived, mainly because George had given most families their own safehouse, in the rare possibility that this was actually going to happen. For awhile, Alex was thought of as a hero - well, the son of a hero. Without his father, there woud be no more humanity. Everybody wanted to be his friend now.
Years later, when Alexander was twelve, he was walking home from school late at night. He had stayed after awhile to talk to himself in the mirror of an empty restroom. It was his way of sharing secrets with the only person he could trust - himself. Kyle hadn’t abondoned him fully, yet. He was just always with his girlfriend. If the two wheren’t together with their lips locked, they were on the phone, or texting. They were almost inseperable. Kyle calls it 'love’, Alex calls it horomones.
Walking down the dark street, Alex hears footsteps slowly creeping up on him. He comes to a stop, “Show yourself.” He commanded. Alex was strong, but also full of himself.He had seen scenes like this many times in movies, so he knew what to do. Suddenly, a knife went flying past his face. The Assassins. They were one of the gangs that had started up after the world had become liveable again. Their signature was a knife.
Alex’s heartrate had increased, but he still stood his ground. “Not scared, kid?” A hoarse voice spoke softly, and Alex could see a figure slowly becoming clearer as it began closing the gab between the two. “N... No.” He spoke, his legs trembeling some. The man had stopped, leaving his whole body visible with the exception of his face that was still masked by the shadows. He wore all white clothing, like all the Assassins did. Pale hands similar to Alex’s withdrew another knife from his white sweatshirt. Why was an innocent child being brought into this? With the Assassins rival gang, The Guards, running about the Assassin was defenseless if his priority was going to be Alex. As the man moved in closer and closer, Alex began questioning life. Was this how he was going to die? By the hands of a messed up fruitcake? No. This wasn’t an ordinary gang member. It was... “Uncle Jacob?” |
| | | Brittany.
Age : 27 Posts : 613
| Subject: Re: "Scars" - Brittany P. Tue 03 Apr 2012, 4:39 am | |
| Chapter Two
“How long have you been part of the Assassins?” Alex asked, still surprised that one of the members of those cold-blooded killers was his own uncle. Chapped lips seperated, “I’ve been an Assassin ever since the day they started up - by your father.” There was silence. Alex’s jaw had dropped. His own father? Starting up a gang thats main purpose is murder? No. No, it just couldn’t be true. “You lie. You lie!” Alex shouted, running of to see his father for confirmation of what his uncle had said. His uncle not even bothering to follow him.
~ His father let out a long sigh. “I wasn’t going to tell you until you were older, but yes. I started up the Assassins. But you have it all wrong, we don’t just kill aimlessly - we kill to bring order.” There was a long silence between the two, and an uncomfortable one at that. “Order?” Alex questioned, breaking the silence. “How do you find order in murder?” George stood up, a hurt look on his face. “You don’t understand.” “I understand perfectly fine! You’re a murderer! You’re not the father that had raised me!” Alex interupted him, and his father glared at him. His emotion went from hurtful to more of an evil look. A sinister smile staining his once innocent face. “You know what an Assassin is, don’t you?” Not even waiting for Alex to answer, he continued on, “It is someone who kills for something in return. Granted it is usually money, my Assassins kill for peace and order. You understand?” Tears formed in Alex’s eyes, but not from sadness. He was frustrated. “Then why did Uncle Jacob try to kill me!” A soft chuckle came from his father, “Oh, Alexander. I know you’re smarter than that.” A pause. “He attacked you because - I ordered him to.” |
| | | Brittany.
Age : 27 Posts : 613
| Subject: Re: "Scars" - Brittany P. Sun 15 Apr 2012, 10:25 am | |
| Chapter Three
An order? His father ordered his only son to be killed? “Why, dad?” Was all Alex could bring himself to say. There was no answer. The tension in the air was so thick, it was almost like you would be able to phsyically slice it. His father let out a few chuckles before letteing out a sigh. “If I told you, you’d think I was crazy.” Alex’s voice became a mere whisper. “I already think you are,” he started, his voice gradually getting louder. “So just fucking tell me!” he screamed, taking deep breaths. At this moment, Alexander was getting a feeling in his heart - his soul, that was unfimilar to him. What he wanted to do was unthinkable, inhumane, psychotic. He wanted to kill his father.
“You’re a monster.” His dad said, like he was reading his mind. “A... monster? What do you mean by monster?” Alex responded, confused. “You’re a demon. I wanted to tell you when you were older that way you would understand why I have to kill you.” It didn’t make sense. Hadn’t his uncle tried to kill him only ten minutes ago? If he was the target today, how would it all be explained to him later? “I don’t understand what you’re saying, George.” Alex said, no longer refering to him as his father. A father was someone who cared and protected their chidlren, not try to kill them. George, not really moved by his withdrawal of the ‘father’ title, said “Jacob wasn’t supposed to show his identity, nor was he supposed to go so far as to kill you. Just merely send you a message to you. That there were people who wanted you dead.” Alex sat down, trying to take in what his father was telling him. His family wanted him dead, why? He had lived like a nomrla child for twelve years, what went wrong?
As he was trying to get his head straight, his 'father’ withdrew a pocket knife and stabbed Alex in his left side, right below his heart. Blood pouring out of his wound, he tumbled over, laying on the hard wooden floor. The wound was deep, and it was bleeding heavily. In just ten seconds he was laying in a pool of blood. His blood. George stood over him, mouthing an apology. As he was about to land the killing blow, Alexs’ eyes went from thier normal shade of their normal, peaceful light blue to a blood red colour. A purple aura surrounded him.
What was this? Whatever it was, it had completely taken over Alexs’ body. His body lifted itself up, flying until he was able to stand up straight and look at George, who had stumbled back in fear and shock. He threw the knife at Alex, the aura acting like a shield and deflected it back at him. Landing in his eye socket. George screamed, and died a slow and painful death. Seeing his father dead, his eyes went back to blue, and the protective aura faded away. Alex fell to his knees, his eyes watering with tears. His father was right. He was a monster. |
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