Young Writers Society

The next bullet whizzed past Simon's head, the banshee scream of the projectile ringing in his ears, his feet moving before his mind could make a decision. He hit the ground and let out a cruel gasp, his lungs shuddering - he had hit hard. It's fine, you're fine, he assured himself and planted a hand under him, kicking his legs up and managing to get off the ground. His wings, like that of a bats', flapped clumsily as he brought himself up, checking for any injuries. His scraped hands and legs stung a little, but nothing life-threatening. He extended a ivory-skinned hand to grasp the handle of the small pistol next to him. It was glowing and steaming slightly from previous use. It shot the pure, neon cyan light the makers had called HyperRays, and heated up when fired continuously. Still hiding against the barricade in front of him, he held it and peered above the barricade, his squinted eyes the same hue of a HyperRay, and with just as much intensity.

"Simon, we got a couple intruders from the left. Make sure they don't get past."

Looking next to him, he saw Elaia, who also held a firearm and was watching the front of the barricade. She must've pushed forward a couple feet and taken cover with Simon. Nodding briskly he turned his attention to the side and pointed his barrel towards the opening. With a slight grunt Elaia leapt forwards, her black hair flying out over her smooth complexion, eyes burning their fire of red. That was what the Serum did to you, the specially made concoction for elite soldiers to maintain their skill. It filled your blood with fire, hunger, hate. Simon had silently watched as Elaia went through the process after she made it into the Elites, and had stayed by her as she cried and screamed her throat raw, the hellish substance slogging through her resisting veins. All the while Simon thought once again about how he wasn't good enough to go through that agony, and he was grateful that he wasn't.

Elaia moved with inhuman agility, moving quickly and silently, a wisp of demon smoke. Simon watched her go and then went back to guarding his left. The sound of 'Hypers' soared in the air, much quieter and sleek than the cantankerous rattle of bullets from the enemy's side. It wasn't fair, sure - but nothing was fair. It wasn't fair that Elaia had to go through the Serum, it wasn't fair that he had to watch - it wasn't fair that the war was almost over, with his side coming out victorious just because of sheer luck and number - nothing. He realized he had been holding his breath as he stared forward in front of him, waiting. Waiting for the glint of black cloth. A mask painted with a slash of red here, amber streaked there.

For a couple more minutes, Simon stayed there, crouched, barrel pointed. Listening to Elaia's orders with sharp obedience. Usually, he'd never listen to a lower rank giving him orders, but... this was Elaia, brave, fierce Elaia, who wouldn't hesitate to rip an intruder's throat out but would still be too shy to speak to Simon in front of other generals. They were all young. Simon himself was only nineteen, Elaia eighteen, and the rest of the army mainly young adults. To fight, you had to be quick, healthy, bodily able to kill.

Simon grimaced as the roar of bullets vibrated in his ear yet again, yet more distant than last time. Pride seared through him. They were pushing them back even more. Maybe, this time, they'd be able to finally make the enemies surrender once and for all.

He sat there for a couple moments. There wasn't going to be any action here, and he wanted to partake in his side's victory - so, raising himself up a little, he crept towards the opening and stepped through. He kept his gun up and his body alert, ready to duck, dodge, or turn back at any moment. But the only thing that was there to greet him was the subtle breeze, which swept strands of his short, dusty brown hair over his face. Simon raised a hand and tucked the hair under his hood again.

The sound of gunfire was still there, far off, echoes of the violent war. Simon began to walk at a brisk pace. He lowered his gun against his chest and continued to move through the abandoned patch of warfare. His combat boots trodded on the shells of bullets, and the blackened areas of grass where HyperRays had landed. It smelled of smoke and fire and demise. He began to jog, seeing that the battle was still much farther up - when he stopped.

To the right of him, a couple feet away, a catch of red slipping in the corner of his eye. Simon turned and raised his weapon, which glinted with a hue like embers in the falling sun - not breathing, not moving. He approached the small crevice where the figure had vanished. Careful to make no noise. It was a shady and small cavern, a hiding place. With his gun steady he advanced and was shrouded by the dark space, only his gun glowing, his eyes burning bright and fierce. He swung his gun to and fro, shining its beam on the smallest formations of stones, the bullet-pocked walls that curved and bended. Nothing moved, nothing presented themselves as alive and deadly. Simon kicked a couple pebbles away, prodded flimsy looking holes in the stone, but was given nothing to explain the flash of red.

Simon was eventually forced to turn and head towards the entrance again. He still kept his gun ready, fingers brushing the curve of a trigger, taking several glances back - you could never be too safe.

He was almost in the warm bask of sunlight when the needle pierced him straight in the back of his neck.

Simon didn't have time to react. The skin where the syringe had hit him seared with pain too excruciating to bear. The substance - or whatever had been concealed in the needle - instantly radiated into his spine, his legs, his arms, his wings. It felt like he was being torched and impaled with knives and he would've cried out if he could find the strength to. Instead, he let out a noise between a sharp exhale and a cough, and collapsed onto the ground. His gun slid from under him in arm's reach, but he couldn't move; the physical torment was too much. Simon was only vaguely aware of his wings twitching and spasming.

Slowly, slowly, the his eyes closed, and he only saw darkness.