A.H A Star Wars story (English version)©

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝒆𝓻 𝟐𝟑

There was only darkness. They surrounded him from all sides, no way to get rid of him... He was trying to escape but hands, cold and emaciated, held him prisoner. The multiple hands forced him to hold his arms backwards. He was helpless, like a prisoner of a hungry sarlac. He was screaming, struggling violently. Footsteps resounded, and in front of him a man came forward. The same red hair, a little grey on the sides, the face marked by time: His father, he was here.

The boy was wiggling his legs against the frozen ground in an attempt to get rid of the grip. It was useless, he was just slipping clumsily across the floor. When he dared to turn his head he saw several stormtroopers, animated despite death, which prevented him from moving. All had smoking blaster impacts on their opalescent armor. He recognized the victims of his madness. He was terrified.

At the very moment he turned his head he heard Brendol's chilling laughter, as he moved inexorably in his direction.

- Pathetic. Whatever you do, you'll always be weak!

- I'm not! He screamed with all the strength of his lungs

- Oh, yeah? Explain to me why you shot your allies? Unable to control you, is that it?

The man's palm fell on his cheek. His head turned to the right under the violence inflicted.

- I should have left you here with your mother. You're no better than her after all.

Hatred roared in the young man's heart. An anger so viscerally rooted in him that he had learned to live with it. But today, he no longer knew how to channel it. It had to stop, the pain was too much. He had to free himself from all this. With a sudden and brutal gesture he stood up, waltzed the soldiers behind him and jumped on his father. His hands clapped randomly on his progenitor's face, hurting him mortally. The punishment seemed derisory for all these years of suffering... it was no less salvific. He was hitting harder and harder.

With his fist up, he was about to break his opponent's jaw, but the pain of his injury bent him in half. He screamed as he put his knees on the ground. Shortness of breath, he felt as if he was bleeding to death. It wasn't just an impression. A pool of hemoglobin had formed around him. He was shaking from the cold. His bare palms rested on the icy ground. The cold burn was almost as unsustainable as his fatal wound.... But at least his pain was directed elsewhere.

- You'll be joining her soon. If you're not brave enough to resist. Brendol Hux confessed darkly with a sigh.

For a moment the offer seemed to him to be an ideal compromise... Let go, just let go and get swallowed up by nothingness. It was easy, he just had to close his eyes.

He felt unbalanced by an unknown force. He turned back. After a strangely long fall his back hit a liquid surface. His body was sinking into the icy depths of water. He was cold, he felt the air gradually leaving his lungs... Without oxygen to replace the fleeing molecules, he gradually lost his bearings. His heart was beating less and less fast. He was afraid to die like that.

He opened his eyes. A human figure was standing on the shore, a few centimetres from him. His hand plunged below the surface of the clear water. Without even trying to understand if it was a trap, he grabbed the unknown hand. Her skin was of a reassuring warmth despite the temperature of the water. This one brought him to the surface without any difficulty. The young boy was now kneeling on the ground, his clothes dripping with icy water. He was coughing to flush out the water that had insidiously crept into his lungs. His breathing was wheezing, his whole body was shivering, transit of cold. He kept his eyelids closed, his face riveted to the ground while waiting to return to a more stable state.