The Dying Generation

Mails and Letters

It was quiet, except for the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore, and the quiet chirping of birds. Whispers of trees filled the air, rustling and leaves drifting in the breeze.

A twig snaps quickly under a running footstep. A young child, about the age of 7, was running for their life. Black and white hair, long and messy, hung over their shoulders, and a single navy blue eye, the other covered by the child's hand, blood dripping down their face and down their arms, dripping onto the ground. Leaves crunched as they ran, yells and calls behind them.

The child ran, a single tag dangled around their neck, with a simple name and a simple number. "Fin: B6734." Alice kept running, dodging and diving in between trees. Fear and adrenaline was the only thing keeping the young child running. Pain and exhaustion piled through their body, but Alice's will to survive was what was keeping the young child alive.

Alice dashed, their hunters close behind them. Alice looked around frantically, their right eye bleeding out profusely. They now had a blind spot in a terrible situation. Alice grabbed their tag, and tried to rip it off. It wouldn't come off, and Alice looked around again, for anywhere to hide. Anywhere! Alice saw a tree, with a hollow near the base, that was plenty big enough to them to hide in. The child dashed to it, quickly ducking inside. The sound of angry yells and heavy footsteps filled the air as their hunters passed. Alice covered their mouth with both hands, trying to muffle their breaths and chocked sobs.

Alice waited in pure silence, and could've sworn something scurried across their boot. Fear swirled in the child's mind, and minutes turned to hours, and soon the day faded to night. Alice limped back out of the hollow, dried blood from their right eye smeared across their face. Alice stared at the boot prints on the ground, and felt their eyes watering, slowly filling with tears.

Alice heard running footsteps behind them and whipped around, and their muscles relaxed. It was just their father. Despite him being half dwarf, he was fair height, about 5.10. He ran over, and the child could see the grimace and the slight look of disgust spread across his face when he saw the bloody mess over his child's right eye. He quickly knelt down, and a tag similar to Alice's dangled slightly around his neck too. It read "Vuler: A6723.

Vuler had simple white clothes on, and was barefoot. He quickly examined over Alice's eye. Vuler ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and quickly tied it around the child's head, as a makeshift bandage. He had a small bag tucked under his arm, and he tied the strip of cloth, before scooping them up and running again. "Daddy, where's...where's mommy?" Alice whispered, tears threatening to fall again. Vuler hesitated with his answer. "Mommy won't be here for a while, alright?" Helga, Alice's mother, had been killed already. Vuler just didn't have the heart to tell his 7 year old child.

Vuler sprinted, running as fast as he could while clutching Alice close to him. Alice cling to their father's ragged shirt, trying to stop the tears. Vuler ran, until the familiar feeling of cool sand was felt beneath his feet, sand being kicked up behind him as he ran. The moon was waning, and Alice looked up, a small feeling of relief washing over them.
Vuler was exhausted, his legs ached, and he stopped, panting for air as he set Alice down, before clumsily trying to open the bag he had tucked under his arm. He pulled out a grey and green devil fruit, in the shape of a eye, with a black circle in the middle. "Alice, I need you to eat this, alright," Vuler explained, handing the fruit to the 7 year old. "Eat it!"

Alice, startled, shoved the whole thing in their mouth. It tasted horrible. It tasted like mold and grime, Alice had tasted that before. Alice swallowed it down, almost gagging it back up. Vuler threw the cloth bag into the ocean, and heard something. It was like a whisper, a far off yell...or yells. Vuler whipped his head around and turned back Alice, fear and worry painted across his face in twisted horror. The tree line wasn't too far away, and a few fallen trees were lining it, from the last storm that had hit the island. Vuler pointed to it, and hurriedly whispered. "Alice, go hide behind those trees for me? Dad will be right back."