Chapter One

18 3 0

My eyes rolled, my mouth dry as I jealously peered up into the starlit sky. Thousands of them scattered around aimlessly, freely glimmering as they pleased connecting into peculiar shapes as they ruled out the darkness of night.

I bit my lip lightly, it had become a habit of mine only appearing when I was nervous. And I was. Extremely actually, about tomorrow, another day of training to be one of the horrible people they want us to become, cold-blooded killing machines. When one dies another replaces us, like animals, it's sick.

"Tony." Said a voice behind me, I sighed not getting up from my comfortable position in the damp grass.

"Yeah?" His feet shuffled toward me extending a hand.

"We gotta get back to the base." My emotionless stare dropped into a frown as I turned to look up at him. Connor. I latched on to his arm allowing him to pull me from the ground. My gaze caught his for a second before breaking contact. I clapped my hand over his in a 'bro-hug' type manner as we stood.

I brought my wrist up to my hand checking the time on my miniature clock, 22:14.

"Damn, I didn't realize how late it was." I inform him tapping the cheap glass of my watch. We stood atop a grassy hill glaring down into the light filled scattering of buildings and people, dashing about in a civilized manner. Uniforms matching as if clones of one another, the only thing that distributed one from a group was that of their face and a colorful ribbon forcefully tied to the shoulder. Though they didn't seem to mind, going about their night as if it was usual, and here it was. Most of us took the draft as just a minor bump in the road, I wasn't that lucky.

I panicked, I wasn't like the others, they didn't care that they were stolen from their families, their jobs. They saw this prison as a vacation, that they would have to stay here for merely a few years then they could go back to life normal as if it had never happened. People change. I knew that I might not be going back, their might not be a family, it won't be normal, I would have killed people, people like me, people with lives. That isn't normal.

Our quiet footsteps left light tracks in the dew filled grass as if it were snow, shoes soaking with the clear liquid. We glanced at each other words not escaping from our lips, but our eyes. The path we walk starts to slope becoming steeper with every step I take, no matter how big or small. "Why?" I ask breaking the silence, "Why do we have to go back..?"

A shallow sigh escaped his pale colored lips as he shook his head, "Where would we go..?" He glanced down at his rubbery work boots. "Over the hill to yonder?" Then he stopped. For those few quiet seconds the world seemed to stop, everything at peace, the greasy sound of shoes flattening squeaky grass, the wind howling fiercely above, gone. The slow breaths puffing from our mouths was the only sound for miles. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there.. Wondering.. Fearing.. Doubting.. I hung my head back staring at the gleaming stars once more.

"Lets go." I exhaled patting Connors back to continue on. Though he walked his eyes fiercely stuck on the foolhardy base, mine followed his for heartbeat before returning to my own path. If not for him, I would have gone insane, his quirky though observant personality kept a person going, as if it was the only choice possible.

The grassy terrain formed slightly into a rocky earth type area before becoming a silver tile. Cars of different shapes and sizes roamed the largely restricted land. The base was probably made for hundreds of people, though thousands lived there, cramped into claustrophobic spaces filled to the rim with cots.

People dawdled about searching for meals and jobs to escape the extremely close quarters. Though I liked the cot, the many shallow breaths that surrounded me, the acidic scent of sweat and it's bitter taste. The reason I enjoyed the low-class sleeping arrangements was not because of the sweat or the many heartbeats that surrounded me, but because it was mine, and only mine. Though an unmemorable object it was something I didn't have to share, even if it was just temporary.

My feet shuffled against the floor as I leaned impatiently on the outside of the bunk house with dozens of others waiting for our door to be unlocked. Bitter mumbles and annoyed glares were sent at me because of my untamed laziness, while they stood obediently in lines. Emotionless they stood there, as if time didn't matter, not caring the slightest about the outside world. They were repulsive. A single officer walked past the entire line, not giving a second glance to the other who stood around him. He pulled a white and yellow card from his pocket, #283, Brill printed across the bottom and swiped along the door handle, with a stealthy click the door slowly creaked open.

Men pilled in like rats, scratching one another so they could be the first to enter the human traffic jam, which often took minutes. A few others and I waited impatiently watching each one trying to prove the last of their existing dominance.

I scoffed as I tapped my toe fiercely, trying to get the authority's attention. One glanced my direction but didn't seem to care, and so I slumped to the floor, sitting there for several minutes until I was the only not inside the badly lit room. I grabbed the top of my head circling around its axis until I heard the familiar 'crack' and the stress relieved as I sighed. My feet ached as I stood up, the size 8 army boots squeezing against my toes, the black asphalt loudly scratching against the cheap rubber bottoms. An officer walked to my side edging me into the bunker, after seconds of realization I entered, hearing him follow. My cot sat in the third row toward the back between two men of Asian heritage, the identical covers sprawled out over my make-do bed. I walked down the aisle as I heard "Lights out!" and darkness engulfed me.

The next morning was torturous, at exactly seven A.M. we awoke jumping right into the days work, strength training, sparing, mining coal and chopping wood for the plant that powers the base. They pushed us to the point of exhaustion and then let us loose, we were nothing more than dogs.

And there again I sat, atop the mountain looking into the rainy sky, it was how I spent most of my free time, wishing I could fly away. I would run away from the camp if I could, but we were in the middle of a remote forest, the chance of survival would be very slim.

I heard the soft patter of footsteps behind me, shoes flattening the stiff grass.

"Hello." I said to the unknown man. The voice chuckled and didn't move,

"Hey." He replied taking another stride. The man's voice was deep, large sounding, as if he was a superhero or bodybuilder of some kind. "I've heard of you." He addressed, "Tony, right?" The man tread over to me and layer down placing his hands behind his head, mimicking me.

"That's right." I confessed, waiting for him to respond. Slowly I let air escape my mouth.

"You're interesting." He told me. "-I'm pathetic." I interrupted him, my voice filled with venom. He sat there for a moment rethinking his will to come here, I felt his gaze burn over me. "I'm Nixion." The man replied, and I chuckled at the cartoon like name looking over at him. Nixion's cheeks flushed a light pink as he heard my laughter. "Yeah, yeah." He chanted shoving me lightly, his face was cleanly shaven, a green bandana wrapped loosely around his forehead holding back the light curls of his short cut hair.

Nixion wore the same uniform I did, a long-sleeve dull blue button up with a pair of elastic banded khakis. Though he had rolled up his sleeves revealing part of a hidden tattoo, an arrow streak running down his forearm.

A smirk spread across my face as I turned my head to stare at the passing clouds.
"So.. Why are you here..?" I asked suspicion growing. He stayed silence for a moment,
"I came to ask you something." He stated looking over at me. My eyebrow raised at his last word and I turned onto my side returning his stare.
"And what would that be?" I continued.
Nixion's hand grazed the ground drawing out the long silence.

"I wanted to ask you to help me escape."

I really hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter of 'Battle Scars'! It's kind of short because I was trying to figure out how to start it off and I can admit I spent about two months writing this whole thing part by part because I had no idea what to write. Also there may be some spelling and grammar errors, I found a few when I reread it but I'm not the greatest at spell-checking so if you could comment and/or message me mistakes that would be greatly appreciated.

        - InsidiousGrand

Battle ScarsRead this story for FREE!