Sacrificed Runaways

Author's Note:

Hey guys, so I'm entering this story into the Young Writers Short Story Contest from hot key books. The prize is 20 books from Hot Key Books of my choice and a consultation with a senior member of the Hot Key Books Team. The story for this contest has to be by the theme of Rebbellion and have a maximum of 2,000 words. The theme can be interpretted in any way. In order to be considered by the judges at Hot Key Books my story has to get on the list of top 20 stories with the most votes. So please read my story, and vote, if you like it.

- Astrid Shreave 

-A scream rang out through the santuary. Only after I felt the knives peircing through to my heart did I realize the scream was my own. A sacrifice was being made, and it was me.-

I thought back to the begining, when a scream rang out through the santuary. I stared at the girl strapped down to the sacrificial chair. You'd think she'd be proud of herself, after all it was the biggest possible honor to be sacrificed to our magistrial gods, but upon looking into her eyes all that was possible to see was soul penetrating fear, and regret. I did't understand what about being honored in the way that she was could triger such sorrow and suffering, but still I couldn't help but feel sorry for this girl. She was quite beautiful. Even with the redness of her face and the sweat dripping down her brow from the screaming, you could still see her lush brunnette hair that fell in delicate waves. You could still see her gentle grey eyes and scarlet full lips peeking out from beneath her tears. Maybe her beauty was the reason she was the one to be chosen. It is said that all those that had been strappped in this chair had a unique quality for which they were sacrificed. As the Selected neared, the girl's sreeches hightened in all dimensions, by pitch, by volume, and by fear. Her body shook multiple times with increasing hysteria as the knives were being disinfected. She allowed her face to fall as if in retreat to the blades that approached her chest, thus triggering the Selected to smile back in sick and twisted ways. However as the final step toward her distresed body was being made, she ripped her hands through the convicting leather bands that were holding her down. The Selected lunged toward the chair, but she was already sprinting past the preparation tables lining the exit gates. The girl turned once making sure her persuiters were far enough away, and I noticed the small shred of hope she had left, pouring out through her eyes. This time it was my face that fell, for as she threw her head back around, a whip came down on her back, and she fell to the floor withering in pain. The last sound to escape her mouth was an exasperated yelp, as the whip came down for seconds.

Her lifeless looking body fell to the floor followed by a second thud. The Selected came at the girl grabbing her by the limbs, and dragging her back to that wreched chair. In a matter of what seemed like seconds the bands were replaced, once again risticting the poor girl to follow whatever the wills of the Selected were in the mood for today. She struggled helplessly agianst the bands, letting out a gasp as her back scraped the rough wood of the chair. While the Selected approached for a second attempt at slowly and painfully carving her heart out of her chest while she screamed, struggling to to trap her life inside herself for a few extra seconds, I found myself shooting up on my feet with the words cascading their way out of my mouth " STOP! LET HER GO! Take me instead." A silence instantly hit my ears with full force. As the words sunk into to the minds of those around me I felt the oxygen slowly being ejected out of the sanctuary. All eyes turned to look upon me. In some of those eyes I saw shock, in others puzzled glares, however that was in the audience. Once my gaze shifted toward the center of the room, I saw four looks. Three showing pure hatred and digust, while one very weak and very weary glance showed me thankfulness and a quiet disaprovance. While the attention of the crowd shifted back to the Selected their expressions cautiously recomposed themselves. "Excuse us young man, did we hear you correctly? You want to take the place of this young miss, to have your heart carved out in sacrifice to the gods?" Sarcasm was seeping through their words. "Not nessacarily. What I want, is for this innocent girl to be spared and if takes the carving of out my heart to do so then that's what I'll do." My attempt at sounding brave was ruined by the faint quiver that followed my words. "Do you have personal ties to the young lady?" "No." " Then, and correct our judgement if we are wrong, but you must be mentally ill." "Call it what you will, but the innocent shouldn't be robbed of their lives, for the sake of ten people living in a ditch, you prefer to call a camp." I grinned with a hint of arrogance respecting my witty response. They glowered back at me almost as though they thought that I would perish from the force of their eyes. I remained indifferent to their glares, leaving them to drown in their disapointment. While I was focusing on letting a pompus grin creep across my face, I realized a pain was spreading from my neck, out through my limbs paralyzing my body. The lights then weakend their defences allowing darkness to take their place, I caught a last glimpse of the girl's angered look, then drowned myself in another demension where all there was left to do was wonder was that piercing anger directed toward me?

My mind slowly found itself readjusting to the light, and the pain of something thick tuggeing at my wrists. I allowed my head to fall to the side, and I noticed the girl glaring into my soul. I caught onto a fierce whisper coming from her direction " What's you're ward?" I felt my brows pucker in confusion "Excuse me?" She let out an annoyed sigh " Come on they can't hear us, and even if they could they don't understand the The Code." "What in the world are you going on about?" She must be hullacinating from all the pain, " I want to know you're ward, so that I can have a chat with your extremely clueless strategist." Before I could answer back a scream rang out through the santuary. Only after I felt the knives peircing through to my heart did I realize the scream was my own. A sacrifice was being made, and it was me.