draft 3A Chapter by Lena Rossmore Final part in the first chapter of The Cataclysm! Walt gripped Nyla's arm with enough force for it to cause mild pain and led her into the warehouse. Contrasting from the faint light of outdoors, the warehouse's interior was dark and shaded. It took Nyla's eyes a few moments to adjust, but once they had, she could see that the warehouse was far bigger than she had assumed. It was two storeys high and about fifty metres wide in each direction. The contents also took her by surprise. She had expected it to be a giant torture chamber, but was instead it was a training room. There were different sections set up across both floors; acrobatics, strength, endurance, martial arts, normal combat, archery and firearms. She stared at each section in turn, amazed at how they had used rubbish from the cataclysm to create functional equipment. The beam in the acrobatics station had been constructed from pieces of metal being sawed into a long strip of plywood and the weights in the strength section were made from boulder pieces attached to pipes. A makeshift pool built from a trench in the ground filled with muddy water made up the endurance area and the martial arts and combat stations consisted of nothing more than mats spread out on the floor. What caught her eye the most though, were the weapons in the archery and firearms regions on the second floor. She saw enough crossbows, rifles, pistols, machine guns, and snipers to take out Exodus' clan within minutes. She suddenly understood why he had sent her to find Gaz and Jake Logan instead of doing it himself; if these random group of survivors had so much weaponry at hand, she could only imagine how much the Logan brothers had obtained since the cataclysm had occurred. Before she had time to survey the room any further, Walt started dragging her to the back of the room. "Am I starting a training program? Or…" Nyla asked apprehensively. Her voice trailed off as she saw that Walt wasn't leading her to any of the equipment, but instead to a small medical area. "Sit." He ordered her into a rusted, metal chair, disregarding her question as rhetoric curiosity. "What are you going to do to me?" Her fear of being tortured had returned, and this time it was facing her head on, ready to crash into her at full speed. Walt didn't answer her but instead began to restrict her arms, feet and torso with metal shackles. She didn't try to resist; mostly because she had no chance in hell of taking Walt down, but also because she disliked the sound of the metal shackles scraping against the metal chair. He then proceeded to fiddle with syringes on the nearby table only to be interrupted by two figures arriving at the door. "How's our captive doing?" Mish's voice carried across the warehouse in a whirlwind of sarcasm. They were just silhouettes against a gray backdrop, but as they got closer, Nyla was able to see the woman Mish was with. She was dressed in the same black getup Nyla was in but that was were the similarities ended. Unlike Nyla's moss-green eyes and fresh faced complexion that was only smudged by dirt, the woman was dark in every aspect. Her hair rose around her in jet-black curls, framing her ebony skin. Her eyes were peculiar, a misty grey colour, and her face remained contorted in a grimace, even while she spoke. "Have you injected her yet?" the woman spoke in a low, curt manner, unaware of the fear she had just arisen in Nyla. "No. I thought you'd be more suited for the job Nyomi." Walt said, not looking into her eyes. It seemed that Nyomi managed to inflict fear into the heart of anyone she spoke to; an evil queen shrouded in beauty. "Very well." Nyomi joined Walt at the table while Mish decided to strike up a conversation with Nyla. "What do you think of Walt so far?" His beanie no longer concealed his bright curls, and they were free to wave around; an orange halo. "He's quite frightening," Nyla said, deciding to humour Mish in hope of getting some information out of him, "But I guess he'd be nicer if I were his friend." Mish let out a loud laugh, "Walt doesn't have friends, he has accomplices, like me, and then he has subjects, like you." "Subjects?" the word rolled around on Nyla's tongue for a while, "As in subjects for pain or-" "Enough." Nyomi's voice rang clear, "Hold her arm down." She motioned for Walt to pin Nyla's already bound arm to the chair incase she decided to struggle and the needle punctured an artery. There was no harm of that happening though, as Nyla was too petrified with fear to move, let alone put up a resistance. "Will this kill me?" "No." Nyomi said, advancing towards Nyla at a menacing pace. "It will just render you incapable of coherent thought." "Why? What is it?" "It's a dose of the VH1 Virus from the cataclysm." Nyomi injected Nyla, grinning maniacally as the pain of the substance began to take it's toll. "In other words, it's the Plague." © 2012 Lena RossmoreAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
482 Views
10 Reviews  Last Updated on July 30, 2012 Tags: fantasy, fear, cataclysm, teen, teenage, dark fantasy, apocalypse, romance, love, fiction 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
|
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
