PrologueA Chapter by Lena Rossmore Prologue to post-apocalyptical dark fantasy The Cataclysm. "To die will be an awfully big adventure." -J.M Barrie Three things filled the warehouse. The first was the all-consuming darkness; impenetrable, it wrapped around the building three times over creating the illusion that it did not even exist under the night sky. The second was the stench of spilled blood. The smell hung damply in the air, creeping into every orifice it could find. But it was not the smell that mattered, instead the fact that the blood had come from two child captives. The third thing that filled the warehouse was the screams of torture. They were not muffled or subdued, as no one was around to hear them. They were screeches of agony and pleas of mercy that fell on deaf ears. "Cut her arms open…slowly." The statement came from a man named Exodus. He was sitting in the middle of the warehouse, sprawled carelessly across a metal chair. "What about the boy?" The second man to speak - Felix - stood ten or so feet in front of were Exodus sat. His large hands were clamped around the arms of a struggling girl; he silenced her with a blow to the head. "Leave the boy for now," Exodus spoke again, in a more dismissive tone, "He must watch his sister suffer." The boy in question was screaming incomprehensibly at the back of the warehouse; heavy metal shackles chained him to the wall preventing him from running to his now unconscious sibling. "Help me chain her up." Felix motioned for another guard to assist him as he dragged the girl's body to the back of the warehouse; in full view of her younger brother. "Nyla! Nyla!" The boy screamed his sister's name in a futile attempt to wake her. "Don't worry, your sister will be awake once we start the torture process. You can say goodbye then." Exodus was no longer lounging on his chair but instead had crept towards the captives in a manner similar to a beetles'. Standing up, he was not particularly large in stature but instead he was tall and skinny; not common features of a clan leader. "Let us go! Please." The boy was no longer screaming but had now broken down in tears. Exodus laughed. Not a big booming laugh nor a screechy evil laugh but a pitying laugh, as if to say "You really don't know how wicked I am do you?". "What is your name boy?" Exodus inched forward; slightly. "Griffin. My name is Griffin." A heavy silence filled the room after that, broken only by the gentle sobs of the boy. Exodus had paused, perhaps to think up new ways of torturing Griffin and Nyla, but regardless of what he was thinking, his reverie was broken by the large metal doors scraping open. A strong gale of wind preceded the two guards into the building. They were dragging a limp body behind them, leaving nothing but a trail of blood in their wake. "We found him snooping in one of our supply caravans." They gestured towards the body; it was that a teenage boy, quite young, eighteen at most. The colour of his hair was indistinguishable as it was matted with blood seeping from the gash on his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over. "A theif…" Exodus stood contemplating for a minute before he turned back to the young boy, "Do you know what we do with thieves Griffin?" Griffin chose not to reply but the expression in his eyes said it all; he was terrified of this man and it was only then did it dawn on him that he was going to die. Exodus sauntered to where the new captive lay, but something stopped him in his tracks before he could speak. Fear. Exodus felt nothing but fear; an emotion that had not possessed him in years. Despite the darkness and the blood covering the boy's face, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that it was Atticus. Exodus had naively assumed that Atticus had perished during the cataclysm. The Lower Grove had been reduced to nothing more than rubble and so he had gathered that all of it's inhabitants had died. He was clearly mistaken. "Kill him." The words escaped his mouth as barely more than a whisper, but they were said with enough conviction that the guards obliged without questioning him. Exodus turned his back just as the gunshot was fired. The sound resonated off the warehouse walls before the room fell into complete silence again. Exodus watched as Griffin writhed in horror, a sight that would normally evoke a feeling of amusement. But that feeling was no where to be found as Exodus pieced the puzzle together in his mind. At that present moment he was certain of two things. Firstly, he was sure that Atticus' brothers Gaz and Jake were still alive; they were hiding in the darkness that wasn't uncommon after the cataclysm, and plotting their revenge. And secondly, that if either Griffin or Nyla died, he would too. "Wake her up." the anxiety in Exodus' voice was uncommon enough to provoke a sense of urgency in the guards. They woke Nyla by slightly burning her fingertips with a rusted blowtorch. The pain rose her from slumber and she gasped for air as if she had just been held underwater against her will. She was incapable of coherent speech and so was forced to listen to Exodus, all the while watching to make sure no harm had come to her younger brother. "You treasure your brother's life more than your own," the fear had evaporated from Exodus' voice and was now replaced with a deep rooted anger, "So you will do as I say or he will die an unmerciful death." "Don't you dare touch him." Nyla had somehow found her voice amongst the emotions flashing visibly across her face. It was a rattlesnake against the silence; cracked, dry and venomous. "There will be no need to hurt him as long as you do what I tell you too." Exodus was unfazed by the girl; she was far more important than she knew, but as long as she stayed oblivious to her significance, he was free to play mind games with her. "Don't hurt Nyla! Please!" Griffin had now succumbed to his knees but his head was tilted up, as if in prayer. "You should be more worried about yourself, because if your sister doesn't get me what I want then you will soon be dead." "What do you want?" Nyla's tone had turned to pleading; he knew he had her. "I want you to go on a little adventure to the Lower Grove." As he managed to find humor in doom, Exodus gave malevolence a name. "That's impossible. There's nothing left there." "Ahh but there is. And there is something of value there for me…or should I say someone. Two people in fact. I want you to bring me back Gaz and Jake Logan, or the consequences are simple; your little brother here, dies." © 2012 Lena RossmoreAuthor's Note
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18 Reviews  Last Updated on July 22, 2012 Tags: fantasy, dark fantasy, fiction, teenage, psychological Author
Lena RossmoreLondon, United KingdomAboutJust another aspiring writer. "there's a hell of a good universe next door, let's go." Feel free to drop me a message and I'll be happy to do a swap, just read and review 'Century' as it's what .. more..Writing
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