Her hand reaches out to me.
The cords of her soaring veins run from her extended fingertips all the way down her arm, and to her chest where her heart is pumping fast and awaiting the blow of her ever-perpetual, impending doom of a fall.
She's a pity of war. She was the sacrifice for the grand scheme. My hands are still caught in the air holding the empty shape of where I had curled my fingers around her shoulders and ultimately shoved her off the side of the balcony without a second thought.
Time seems to slow its gravitational motion, but there was a sudden rush to my brain as I wrap my hands around the railing and lean over to watch her on her way down. She looked completely frozen in time but the world was wavering around her wailing frame. Under a honey and blue sky, the gathering of rich brought vibrancy to the unknown funeral taking place. The colours of their fabrics were vibrant and unweathered by the wintry onslaughts in which Jorkhan had previously brought, but not even the returning suns could shine away the tint of death to the foundations of the Universe's conclusion.
My mind is a defensive difference to the overwhelming roar of surprise and fright as the crowds below watched with a horrific gaze, the way the Queen's body tumbled over the balcony and in a suspended expanse, slowly fell to their feet and celebration.
Thankfully, it seems that the suns were on my side of darkness as they moved from behind a cloud and made it a burning impossibility to be able to see that there was still my figure standing in her place... But what did I do to spare the spotlight of my sinister actions? Perhaps, the fires of the sky knew that what I had done, was to keep them burning.
Her crown whistles in the air, and her hair which I had previously brushed with a silver handle, becomes matted around the white veil, which perfectly matched her pure wedding dress that whipped and glided like waves in the free-fall wind.
There was no time for me to start contemplating my murderous choice, and why I just did what I did. There was no cadence to the thrill of the fear in the rich's cries for me to regret what had already been done. I did it to selfishly save them, I did it to save myself. It wasn't fair that someone had to be the sacrificed, but the original Princess was the only one who had died for nothing... This slum girl had more bravery than I could ever possess, and I had been through too much to just perish for the doings of my enemies.
Realisation had dawned upon the young, falling girl. She could feel nothing beneath the bones of her prominent spine. Even the air was nowhere. Chest tightening, breath speeding, she managed to force her eyes shut, bracing for impact – But the darkness seemed to scare her more, so she opened them back up to me again. She was powerless versus the world's gravity. There was nothing which could defeat an extreme fall.
The gushing air races throughout her whole body, and I can see the ground getting closer and closer by the second. There's a petrified look upon her face in which tells me that she's starting to find it harder to breathe, almost to the point where her cheeks are turning a bright blue. Her hand is still reaching for the high-up balcony in which I had pushed her from, desperately trying to grasp onto any ignorant chance of survival... But soon enough, her back cracks on the bed of grass below and her head falls back too, sending the golden crown to glide down the carpet of white, all the way to Kylo Ren's polished boots.
She was staring right back at me, her eyes as dead as her soul, blankly meeting mine. Blood slowly trickled out of her nose, and onto the paling of her lips. The white dress had turned a shade of horrific crimson and the thorns from the rose bushes which aligned the castle's edge, hand punctured into her innocent skin.
The slum girl broke like porcelain on the ground, her skin smashing and colliding as her bones shattered into pieces of austerity. A chill runs right through me, but my deep-rooted hatred for all those that had made me this way, warms my blood right up. Have I truely turned cold and calculating, beyond ever turning back into the dim and weakened girl, in which the Troopers had plucked from the orchards? Yes.
The sounds of distress only muffle in my ears as the violins of a death march are being played upon the silver strings of my black heart. Every movement seems to blur in my vision, with their extravagant colours and bleeding happiness – But the man who wore nothing but his dark clothes and the ominous shadow which followed him everywhere, was anything but obscured by the distance between us.
I knew Kylo Ren was looking at me, I could feel the hatred and evil smouldering in his menacing gaze. He was the only one who peered through the sun's gleam enough to stare at me, all while the rest of Jorkhan's attention was on the dead Queen who bled right into the greenery of her palace soil.
Oblation and sacrifice is a traitorous thing, just as is death in the dirt of the slums or upon the gold of wealth – Nothing was fair, no matter if you had money or not. It's an inescapable destiny for each of us as individuals and, for today's twist of structure, the passing of my imitation was almost as if I had lifted the noose from around my neck, and tightened it around the girl who is dead below.
He and I, are now the same – But he chose to be this wicked, and I was only moulded by his violence to become his opposing shadow. Through the treachery of my lies and a forced imitation, I seem to have stripped myself clean from who I once was, whilst still defying the role I was replacing... Leaving me to only turn into someone who would do anything to survive.
My soul is burning up in flames, and I only bask in the heat of my inner darkness. There's no escaping the twinge of a smirk which settles upon my face as I stare at the black dot of Kylo Ren, and I hope that he can somehow see it from here, so it will forever become the muse to his hauntings.
But then to my surprise, my mouth falls as the hovering aircraft in the sky, sinks lower than its place among the white clouds. All grounds and surfaces of Jorkhan seem to vibrate, and I could almost feel my brain rattling against my skull. The whole kingdom resonated with the deep grumble of the straining engines which came from the black First Order vehicle that now made itself known to everyone below.
The shuttle roared and the wind buffeted around it, rocking the trees ever so slightly and causing my hair to whip in front of my eyes and drag through my burn. Sudden fear bursted through my chest, as I thought about the possibility of the controllers in the aircraft, aiming a target on me and shooting a deadly laser into my heart, but as I flicked my eyes back to Kylo Ren who still stands at the end of the alter, with what seems to be, General Hux whispering into his ear – I watch as both of them, stop whatever conversation they were muttering to one another, to turn their attention to the aircraft above. It was as if they never knew it was there.
Just when the confusion settles amongst my bones at the possibility of two of the most authoritative members of The First Order, not knowing of the presence of one of their own ships hovering above the ceremony... A flash of red catches my eye, and drags my gaze back to the black aircraft.
But it wasn't all black. Strangely, there was an inkling of crimson upon the bottom of the craft. It was the same colour red as the liquid which spurted out of the dead Queen, but it didn't seep across the black as chaotically and randomly as the blood painted the grass in which the guests all trampled upon... It was perfectly etched into the shape of a remarkable symbol. A symbol in which I had only seen a handful of times before.
It was the emblem and mark of The Resistance.
A gasp falls out of my throat and lips. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest, but before I could clutch my hand over my ribs to keep the pulsating beat behind the cage of bones, the aircraft is quick to cover up the symbol, when the latches below open... And a bomb drops from the aperture.
Jorkahn seems to turn dead silent as everyone just watches in shock, the way the silver sphere from the sky, whistles through the air as it soars all the way down – But then all at once, it explodes... I flinch, close my eyes, hold my breath, and brace for the impact of my own death.
Even through closed lids, I can tell the blast is stronger than the illuminance of the suns – And that, and the heat of the crash, is what I notice way before the horrific sound of its thudding drop fills my ears and thunders my insides almost to mush.
The foundations of the world shakes and convulses, as the people upon it all shrieked and cried loud as they attempted to withstand the power of the mighty wave of a violent blast.
But, I don't feel the strike of fire to my skin, nor does the cobblestone of the balcony start to rumble and shake out of place, causing me to topple down to the ravaged grounds along with the rubble of the destroyed castle. No, in-fact, for a second I presume that I had died a quick death, and I was most likely already standing in the heated flames of hell.
I open one eye, and then the next... Only to find that I am not living in hell, but still the havoc of Jorkhan, where a Resistance bomb had been aimed and dropped purposely, and heroically, right on the fleet of First Order ships at the back of the castle.
A blinding fire erupted from the rubble of where The First Order ships all docked, and as more crafts caught on fire, their engines only ricocheted with a domino effect of constant explosions. My face is contorted completely into one of pure shock, my mouth agape and slack as my hands hold stiffly on the side of the balcony, all while my body sways in the midst of windy impact. The sounds of both the explosions and the screams of the guests, and all those who lived in the city by the kingdom, pierce my throbbing ears and sends a thousand goosebumps scattering over my skin.
And just when everything couldn't seem more remarkable, the screams only hinder beneath the roar of a thundering battle cry. I turn my head to the sound coming from the city, and my wide eyes only lay upon the large, swarming wave of a rioting city.
The rebels. The Rebellion. There were so many more of them, they weren't just a group of people who were sick of being on the outside of mercy and righteousness... They were an angry, and violent, army and they were marching into town, throwing flames and weapons onto the Troopers, and throwing punches all the way to the castle gates.
They were ready for a war, and they were obviously not going down without a fight. I could have never suspected anything like this, but it brought a sense of hope amongst all this destruction, and a bright and quivering smile lapped my face as I understood that Anwar had a main part in all of this – He knew that The Resistance stood a chance.
My frazzled nerves jumped all together, but somehow in different directions. Those nerves were frayed to the quick thinking that morphed into not thinking at all.
Kylo Ren and his men no longer stand at the alter, but soon enough the sounds of the terrified people and the chants of the rebellion, are only fighting against the shrilling sounds of blasters going off, and the distant sound of a whirring, lightsaber.
From up here, the sight of Jorkhan is almost unimaginable. No longer does colourful cloaks and dresses surround the limp body of the Queen on the grounds, but they flee from the battleground. The First Order took no time in selecting their weaponry, and they were not fighting for the survivors, they were fighting for no survivors but themselves.
The First Order no longer had a way to tie themselves to Jorkhan, now that the Queen is dead, and after the first firing from The Resistance, they decided that they will just try and pry it from our filthy hands... But without ships, they must wait for further fleets, and so far, the rebellion are outnumbering their army of white-armoured soldiers.
I'm the conflict between two competing impulses which exist and grow within the human nature of the central Universe. We are created with the intention to live in peace with our Gods their creations, and follow the moral commands of the equation for frail existence – But once you turn your back to human nature, you notice that the darkness always lingers in every breath and every essence. In the dark, many act violently to obtain supremacy over the life of the Universe, because there are many plagues in this lifetime, and greed is a disease of the conscious mind, but the addiction to survival is a bane to existence.
I have realised only now, that I would do anything to stay alive – I always had. I stole, lied, and manipulated my way through my life, in order to stand today... But was the act of killing another to survive, evil? In my past, I was a child of innocence, because I had never seen no further evil other than the rich eating what I had savaged on a hungry stomach. Though, now that I am much older, I have confronted evil right in the eyes and embodied it into my understanding of the Universe, which holds the clashing of light and dark.
Innocence is a threat of prejudice. Experience is the destroyer of ignorance. It's a battle of life against savagery, and it's order verses chaos. My faith in the world is badly damaged, as am I. I have retreated into a vessel of a persecuted innocent, a mind of a woman who needs nothing but revenge, I want to keep this world running on rules and civility, but Jorkhan's commandments have never been fair for all, causing the burdened to become obsessed with hunting for something much more empowered than equality – For the people of the slums don't want what the rich have, they want to steal their wealth right from their hands and then kill them all.
I once thought that there used to be just good and bad, but now I know, that everyone is truely evil – That is the promise in human nature. Kylo Ren once told me that people would do anything for money and power, and perhaps he was right because he knew just as well as I did now, that everyone is followed by shadows.
The Resistance are causing as much wrath as The First Order could. They bombed the grounds of Jorkhan, just as the dark-side would – And their desire to control and subjugate proves more powerful than a soul's desire for empathy, intellect and civilisation.
The dead slum girl was right: '–That small herd isn't as small as your ignorance believes it is... The worst of their wrath is to only come.' And here it is. We have a chance to survive. Jorkhan is fighting back against the prejudice of the crown, and the savagery of The First Order.
This is Jorkhan, and without its people, this world is nothing but a name. Everybody wants to rule the world, but this time, I think that change is truely coming and it might just be for the best as even I, have surrendered to the thrill of violence and mass hysteria.
There was no mercy in a war, and with their first shot being bestowed upon the Order's fleet... They declared a war for the sparing of Jorkhan. Kylo Ren was still down there, I was frozen in my place and I only watched as he brutally dug his burning saber into the chests of many guests. He had a barbaric twist upon his face, and the disgusting cut across his cheek only matched the vehemence of his dangerous rage.
In his cloaks of black, he plunged his weapon of firing red into the neck of a wealthy man who wore all the colours of the sun. There was no blood to seep out of his burnt wound, but there was a spurt of mud which spat up into Kylo Ren's wretched face as the man ignorantly tried to punch the apprentice away, before his untimely death. Kylo Ren's neck muscles strained and I could see the way he basked in the smell of a raging war in which he had never expected would happen today, and the fear that eluted all around him as his head arched back to the sky and his black eyes rested back upon me.
He smirks. I turn around and run for my damned life.
I turn out of the bedroom and spill into the hectic hallways, where palace guards are unsure of what to do. They wear the armour of white, the same as the StormTroopers do, but there's a crest upon their shoulders which prove that their allegiance is first tied to the kingdom, which no longer has a leader. With the occasional person sprinting through the far up halls, they do not spare the time to stop me as they linger with their guns cocked, but not yet loaded.
The more I run, the faster I get to the lower levels of the kingdom, where all the scared faces are looming and trying to find cracks to hide in, from the Order. The crowd is a violent flood of people, everyone moving in the same direction and threatening to trample me if I lose my footing. Everyone seems to be running further into the castle, but I am trying to find an exit out of the high walls and rich curtains. I am faced with the challenge of pushing through the crowd rather than flowing along with it, but I avoid the first exit that I come across which is a direct path to the courtyards that connect to the fields in which the war-zone is most rampant.
I try and claw my way through everyone that knocks me out of their way and I begin to feel the claustrophobia take over. Gunfire soars through the air, but there's too many echoing sounds to know which way the bullets and blasters were coming from. My heart rate began to speed up and so did my breathing.
I heave as if I was drowning, and my skin suddenly feels cold as if the air is now cooling my overstressed flesh. I wheeze as my burning lungs gasp for a rest, but I don't stop my footing as I bunch the material of my skirt up over my calves to find more movement. The wound across my face is stinging as the wind laps onto it, causing my sweat and hair to sink into the raw burn.
People are everywhere, and some are already wounded or coughing up the dust from the first explosion. It worried me that the majority of the guests were fleeing inside for cover, when surely the castle is only trapping them in. The kingdom guards that lingered by the walls, where the portraits of the bloodline of royals were hung upon, were doing nothing to help, purely because they still had no orders to fulfil – But some were beginning to load their blasters and walk against the crowds to the openings, guarding the space until the Troopers of the Order came to fight them.
There was an overwhelming sense of misery in the palace, but this was something that I had expected, though now I only hold onto a slither of hope, as The Resistance ship is most likely still in the sky, and the rebellion is marching to the kingdom, where they would then have to find a way through the gates to fight the merciless Order.
When I finally make it to the opening in which connects to a further expanse of a courtyard that should lead me to the main entry of the palace, the light which the doorway allows to bring upon the heads of the herd of alarmed people, looks like a haloed glow of freedom.
But suddenly, before I am able to reach it – I collide right into the chest of a tall man, sending me crashing to the ground. All the chaos around me, rushes by in a blur and I know the pain is coming as I whimper on my hands and knees, only flinching when the feet of the herd kick into me as they trample by. It goes by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. All perception of time becomes distorted.
It is when a particularly forceful kick, swipes right across my face, that causes me to scream out and move my head up to look at the culprit. A much older, pudgy man who wore all drapes of emerald, turns back to look at me – His rumpled, grey face turning red and a scowl forming upon it at my frail, dirty state. My wound cuts open, and the blood throbs right out and slides down my chin and neck.
"Move scum!" He yells to me, before turning back and running further into the embrace of the fallen kingdom.
Scum.
My face was throbbing, and my mind was aching with the strike of vulgar hatred, which only detonated in my bones and ignited the survival in my veins. There was nothing left in my heart but eternal darkness. My face closed into a tight grimace, and a few tears flood out of my eyes as my skin becomes pale and clammy at the expanse of pain, but I felt no hurt from the defamation from the man who is now long gone.
I scoff to myself and a weak and tired breath of laughter falls from my lips – If only he knew who I was, just moments ago.
Finally finding my feet, I feel as if once vertical all the blood had suddenly rushed down into my shoes and my heart had stopped beating. I swayed on wobbly feet, my hand moving to my face and feeling the warmth of my blood as it seeps into my nails and into my mouth. I had no time to feel the pain, I only had time to escape – I continued clawing my way to the light.
The light was dazzling and once the air hit my skin, I could barely make out the shapes and sizes of the thousands of people who were running in all sorts of directions around the palace and along the courtyards.
It was a haze of colours, but the colour red and white were all that I could distinguish – And when my vision finally shifted like the turning of a looking-glass, my body froze in its place of the doorway to the outer-courtyards, when I noticed the swarm of StormTroopers who were all closing in on the kingdom, and gunning down anyone in their way.
It was as if I had just thrown myself into a dangerous, city of apocalyptic tendencies. I could almost see the kingdom crashing even now, as the brick of the courtyards began to break off in some areas from the previous stampedes, turning into scattered debris and rubble.
My dress was now tatted and stained with my own blood, which only kept continuously running down my face like salty tears. My mind suddenly became hazy and I felt my system failing amid a mass of terrible sensations: The fearful blow of the explosion, the noise of glass shattering behind me, the hoarse howl of people – I felt as if I was living in a nightmare.
The world seemed darker, and as the shock settles over my bones and clicks my mind off for a short second, I turn my bloodied face to the sky.
No longer were the suns shining with a glorious hue, but even the blue of the sky was dark, covered with grey clouds that smothered every ray of light which tried to penetrate the murk. It was only until I blinked slowly and my ears stopped ringing, did my mind shift back into drive and I was able to hear the screams and destruction of the land, and tell that the grey of the blue sky, wasn't just clouds, but it was the dense smoke which eluted from the bomb that had detonated, far off in the other direction.
Thunder roared, but there was no rain to clash with the flashes of lightning. I furrow my brows – The cracks of harsh sound wasn't lighting, it was blasters being shot by, and the flashes were the spits of death coming from Trooper's aims.
A series of new flashes broke out, lifting and spreading through incandescent smoke right in front of me. I flinched back as the strike of red flew by, but the heat felt like a great gush of flame, until it became cold as it propelled away from me, and obliterated the back of a running man on the other-side of the courtyard.
I tried to scream, but I found that my throat was too dry, so I just ended up stretching my mouth wide and allowing the blood to sink upon my tasteless tongue.
I had to look away as the man fell limp to the ground, in the same way the slum girl had as I pushed her down the balcony edge. My body shook with anger, and I knew that there was an extreme possibility that I would end up as dead as that man, who had a hole in his back... But I had no time to die, and that was the only phrase that was ringing around my mind as I took a step out into the openness of the courtyards, and began running with the people who were ducking from shots and twisting around corners.
First Order weapons were firing from every direction, but I never stopped sprinting. A few feet away where the stone of the yard meets a conjunction, a bloody, red flame had decided to punch its way down from a sniper shot from the third level of the castle, and the force of the strike hits the middle of a pillar, which I only just dodge as it crashes to the stone floors and brings the ceiling of the conjunction down with it.
I could hear a woman cry from beneath the shattering, but I made no effort to turn around as the dust of the debris rushed into my nostrils, and caught onto the heels of my shoes. Thousands of pieces of marble and stone, became nothing but a deadly rainfall that showered down on the remaining individuals running in the same direction as I was.
I wail out as the smoke begins to cloud my vision and I begin to choke on it's heaviness. Out of shock, I lift my fingertips to my cheek and wipe at the spilling crimson, before then swiping at the air... When the air finally clears, I find it is only me who runs towards the edge of the palace. I was alone, but the shots seemed to be getting quieter as I created further distance between their ravaging and I.
I vaguely remembered the way to the front gates of the kingdom from when I was first brought here to begin my life of royal incarceration, but once the towering walls of the gates were in sight, I knew for certain that I was heading in the right direction.
My heels are thumping loudly upon the grounds, but I do not care if they give away my presence because I cannot find an ounce of bravery to slow down my heavy footing. Hot beads of sweat are falling down my back, puddling in my hands. My peripheral's are as cloudy as the darkened sky, and I am certain that if I don't continue focusing on my breathing, my lungs will tightly squeeze and kill me quicker than a bullet could.
The air is finally clearing, and the sound of pain and grief is slowly subsiding. I almost give myself a chance to slow down my pace, but as soon as the roar of a crowd floods my ears again, I only force myself to run quicker. I almost assumed that it was another wave of kingdom guests, fleeing from the halls of the palace where they are almost trapped like mice in a tubby cat's litter-box – But when I notice that the songs coming from the citizens of war, are not truely wallowing in fear, but rather anger and vengeance... I realise that it is not the sounds of the kingdom guests, it is the battle-roars of the rebellion, who have reached the other-side of the palace walls.
I arrived at the foot of the steep set of stairs which lead to the precinct of stone, where kingdom guards shielded themselves from rocks and bricks being thrown over the wall, and cautiously gathered around the high and wide, wooden doors which were being pounded upon by the angry fists of thousands.
I didn't hesitate before I gathered my skirt in my red hands and ascended the stairs, dodging a thrown stone and ultimately falling on the last step in a quick thud and motion. My palms and knees graze upon the stone floors, and I clenched my teeth together to keep from crying out, as suddenly, two guards made their way over and both twined their armoured fingers around my shoulders and pulled my limp body back to my feet.
"Get back in the palace!" One mechanically shouted, and when I noticed the additional crest upon his plated chest, I understood that he was the captain of the palace guards. He previously stood directing the soldiers with a look of profound confusion even with their helmets on, anxiety and anger all mixed across the panes of their blank eyes... But now, he peers down at me, the poor girl in a bloody, blue dress with a distraught face of wounds and tears.
The rebellion of the streets are thudding against the castle walls, trying to get in to fight the war where the heart of it truely lies. The Resistance are trying to get to their enemies of the crown, and the Order.
I splutter and almost choke on the the bone-dry feeling in my mouth, which ached when I tried to swallow the rise of hope which pulsated in my veins. My ribcage constricted into itself a little tighter, I glance to the masked soldier who cocked his head to the side, "Open the gates."
He moves slightly in his mask, "What?" He asked, either not understanding my peculiar request, or understanding it perfectly but needing to hear it again.
I spit my words through my teeth and a splatter of blood shoots onto the white of his mask, "Open. The. Gates."
I glance into the eyes of the head-guard, hoping to see some form of empathy in his masked eyes, but all I am met with is my very own glassy irises, which even the colour is screaming behind the rise of red – My burning vexation loitering in my dilated pupils.
The solider pauses, all while his men loiter around as the walls keep away the riot of the slums, as a true merciless war is being bestowed within the kingdom grounds. The guard's silence almost brings a fearful feeling to my chest, but suddenly, his mechanical mask erupts into a small chuckle.
He shakes his head in the helmet, and his grip tightens around my arm, "We are already under attack from The First Order, and you think that we are going to open the gates and just let in all the rioting scum?!" He shouts to me, shaking my body in his tight grip. His black eyes move in a little closer to me, but all I stare at is my own face – The face of someone who has been through hell and back, but survived no matter what cruelty was bestowed upon her.
He laughs again, "Who do you think you are?"
I suck a sharp breath inwards, and it sits coldly in my chest.
I'm nobody, never was anyone. I played the role of a starving, dying soul. I imitated a Princess, and now I have become someone abused by war – And in the midst of my roles, my soul tried to love another, who didn't even possess one to begin with, and that was the most destructive to my original temperament and nature.
I have killed, only to survive, and the first death of today which was by my hand, was only the first marking of battle. The royal kingdom has been thrown into chaos and with my alignment in darkness, I now moved with speed and decisiveness. I am undaunted and unafraid, I have outwitted my enemy, all while being ignorant to the true power of the place in which I originally came from.
I am more than I could have originally willed myself to be – But I am still uncertain as to who I am supposed to become amiss all this destruction. It almost seemed that Jorkhan itself had convulsed at the speed and momentum of my own brittled heartbreak.
There's panic in the streets and riots in the heart of Jorkhan, the kingdom is becoming paralysed by the Order after the occurrence of their original tying to the world, has been destroyed, so their taking it from beneath our feet... But it was The Resistance who struck first.
Doom and destiny is aligning. One just has to have the right amount of wit and nerve to triumph both in this world. Jorkhan is on the edge of chaos, and I was the one who had pushed the world only further, but there is always pain before anything can heal.
I have shown my true strength by holding the throne in the name of survival, and not only for myself, but for all. I am a living embodiment of Jorkhan's secret exploit, unmoving and indestructible.
My lips twist. I inch closer to my own reflection in the guard's mask, "I'm the fucking Queen."
He laughs, and before I know it, I am thrown back to the ground.
"The Queen of Jorkhan is dead," His electric voice roared, his armoured fingers now itching their way to the blaster which was clipped to his belt. For a second, the darkness of the sky deceives me once again as my vision blurs like it did when I first entered the courtyards, but when I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them again, I work through the hazy gaze – Only to meet the tip of his gun which is pointing at my forehead.
I eye the barrel and notice how close his metal fingers were to the trigger behind it. I flinch, my eyes closing back again as I await the darkness to consume me entirely... But, I'm still not afraid.
I hear a click of the safety being turned off, and I can almost decipher the smirk upon his lips as the guard speaks once more, "And so are y–"
But then, suddenly, a voice from behind cuts the guard's words short, and holds the power to force his finger away from the trigger of the gun in which he holds to my head... Once again, I have somehow survived death.
"Open the gates!"