If you want to understand what's going on later, I'd recommend reading the next few posts, at least.
There’s a small rap at the bars.
Without willing it, a small, timid squeak of fear espcapes from the back of my throat.
I cover my eyes with my hands, they’re here, they’re here, they will get me.
You’ll die.
Footsteps pad nearer and nearer, in time with my heart. Maybe they won’t find me, if I hide…
Soft, tiny hands clasp around my neck.
“Don’t…move…”
The voice is gentle, feminine. Such a phrase sounds odd coming from it.
A cloth is tied around my mouth and had. It smells faintly of rose water.
“Stay silent, and nothing will happen,” the voice says, roughly. I can feel cold sweat seeping into the back of the cloth. “I promise,’
The voice is softer now.
I’m pulled to my feet, wobbly and dizzy. I turn to the side and vomit.
The girl, whoever she is, doesn’t seem to mind, just pushes me foreward. I close my eyes.
It’s better not to know, now.
“Step up,” she hisses into my ear. As soon as I hear this, my foot catches on a ledge and I crumple.
Something hard connects with the back of my leg, and I have no choice but to get back up. Please God, let me die fast….
I’m pushed along. The smells change as I go farther; blood is no longer thick in the air. Here, it smells like gunpowder.
“Step down,”
I do, and hear my feet pad downa a staircase, the hand guiding me, catching me when I slip.
There’s a rattle of keys on a chain, followed by the crunch of metal upon metal. A rusty hinge sweeps open.
And the cold air hits me.
It’s so cold, so wet. The air is…clear.
I have to open my eyes.
Outside, it’s dark, the sky dotted with stars dulled by overhead clouds. In front of me lies an open gate, with a sentry standing guard.
Please, God…
I hear a gun click. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, one by one. My knees are weak. I’m about to vomit again.
Bang.
I fal to my knees. It’s over, it’s over, all over…
A foot connects with my spine.
“Get up, you stupid boy,”
The voice is shaky, cracking like the person is crying. I sand, wobbling a bit. The gun powder is thick in the air, almost gagging me.
The sentry that had been staning there a momemtn ago is no longer there.
Instead, he is a rumpled heap of blood and bone.
I throw up again.
The barrel of a gun is pushed into my back, prodding me in the direction of the doorway.
“Run,” the voice gasps.
I stumble forward, but don’t get very far before collapsing.
The voice grabs my hand and drags me along with her. I close my eyes once more.
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