HUNTED. RETRIEVED. KILLED.

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                HUNTED. RETRIEVED. KILLED.

                That seems to be the typical process of my new life, now-a-days. Three simple words that seem to go along with three different rules. Hunted, hunt the unwanted and bring them back, dead or alive. Preferably alive, though. Retrieved, retrieve them to the warehouse, for further prosecution. Usually tortured which is almost always. Killed, the last step that I’m always recruited to finish, killing the weakened. The only way to survive is to become one of us, that doesn’t occur often though. If you’re not highly trained that well, then we don’t want to waste time training others when we have a job to do and finish. The last rule is the only chance to live, the only chance of survival. That was my last chance, my last chance to show them that I was too valuable to die.

                I was only seven when they started to take my family out, one-by-one. I never found out why my family was being hunted. All I knew was that we couldn’t run, we couldn’t hide, without them finding us. Moving every night we would live with cordial strangers in their basements, feeling as if we were following Harriet Tubman, herself. After two years, we ran out of money and couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. We had to face them, by we, I mean my family: Daniel, Grace, AJ and myself.

                My father, Daniel, was the first to go through the three rules. They captured my mother, Grace, to reel Daniel right in to the devious little trap. They all knew that he wouldn’t let her be tortured continuously and possibly die, so he decided to try and rescue her before she was bloody murdered. Before he set out, he left AJ who was thirteen then, in charge and kept us somewhere at the base of the Himalayan’s, where no one would dare venture to that distance. After he left, he never came back with her, not a word, message, or anything that could prove reassurance of their living self.

                AJ and I eventually gave up and started to move again. If we would have stayed, there was a high percent rate that we would have died, wouldn’t have survived. We had an advantage, our lightweight and height, gave us the opportunity to fit in microscopic places and run as if it was our last breath, last sight, last anything. Yet, they had an advantage too, there sense of sight and smell. They are nothing compared to mammals, like us. It’s almost as if they were mutated to be better than us, have enhanced senses just to kill people similar us. Eventually, AJ and I were forced to separate.  They kept tracking our stench and noticing the little things that we left behind.

                I manage to survive another year of avoiding them, coming near death and closer to the light and the lost connection with AJ. At last though, they found me abandoned in an old tree top that was knocked down in a storm the night I slept in it. They cornered me when I fell, and retrieved me back to the warehouse. There did I endure every torturing that they could think of and possibly achieved. I handled all of it, didn’t say mercy once. Of course I thought about it sometimes, but I wasn’t willingly enough to say so, wasn't willingly enough to give up my life to death. And the day that they promised me to ‘let me go’, they marked me as their own instead. Now I was one of them, as they didn’t need to train me. I learned things quickly and transformed into what they are today, but I have different advantages than they do, things they never knew could happen to one of them. They never thought to mutate me like what happened to them, they just kept taking me out, hunts after hunts, retrieving the victims back to the warehouse, and killing them when they weren’t worth anything anymore. I was stronger than most, worth more to the company than most there, which is why I’m not allowed to leave, not allowed to die.

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So this is my new story, this is just the prologue, comment below to let me now how this is! thank you! -Jay :)

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