Let's Start A Riot

Chapter Twenty-Two - Red

Sarah patches me up, cleaning my cut and bandaging over it so I have a thick white bandage encircling my waist. I decide to lie down for a while, my body completely exhausted from the past couple of days – hours even.

When I wake up it is dark outside, the stars twinkling outside of my window high above the trees. I stand up with a yawn and look over at my alarm clock that tells me that it is just past midnight, meaning I have slept for around half the day – and honestly, I could sleep for longer, but my rumbling stomach protests that idea.

I pull on my shirt and trousers, not bothering with shoes. I make my way out of my room and into the kitchen, the house silent, the others in their rooms, probably asleep, just as tired as I am. I peer into the cupboards and fridge, finally deciding on a quick sandwich and a glass of diluted orange juice.

As I sit on a barstool eating the sandwich I made, I think back on today's events.

I had fought a group of men – a group of soldiers.

I had won against one of those soldiers.

I had held my own long enough for my squad to save my arse.

...

Pretty successful day if you ask me – and I'd managed to pull off those Taekwondo moves I've been practicing all week.

I smile to myself proudly as I turn to rinse my dishes off and walk back to my room. I change back into my pyjamas, looking down at my bandage dressing, which I notice doesn't have any blood seeping through which is a bonus.

I close over the curtains, shutting out the light that shines into my room from the moon and the stars and settle back into my bed to drift off to sleep.

*                            *                            *

"Stand the fuck up." A voice snarls in my ear.

I blink slowly, my eyelids heavy for some reason. I move my arm and wince when it scratches against something sharp. I finally manage to open my eyes, the confusion of why something in my bed is sharp clearing my groggy mind.

Except, I am not in my bed.

I am back behind the training building, on that tarmac, except it is no longer smooth, but jagged and covered in rubble.

"What the fuck?" I mutter, slowly beginning to lift myself up when I feel a hand roughly grab my hair and wrench me to my feet. I gasp in pain, tears stinging my eyes as I try to blink through them to make out the blurry figure stands in front of me, my hands grasping at the one holding me.

"I told you that you didn't belong here." The voice taunts, and my vision finally clears to find James in front of me, his front still dripping with blood, the X scored grotesquely on his body.

"You thought that your little boyfriend could save you?" James teases, pulling the hunter's knife out from behind his back. "Well, where is he now?"

James lets go of my hair and I'm finally able to look around me, my heart banging a hard rhythm in my chest, the tempo only quickening when I find myself blocked in on all sides by the other three men, only darkness behind them. There's no sign of those picturesque fields now.

I can't believe my eyes. Two of the men have blood slowly leaking from a small gash on their collarbones, while the other one's face is a sight to behold. His nose was smashed in, so much that it seems to be deflated against his skull, the skin hanging loosely, swaying as he moves. There is blood smeared all over his face and his shirt is stained red. He opens his mouth to smile, and a gush of blood pours from his mouth. He doesn't seem to notice, none of them do.