3Author's Note: Hi, my name is Cloey van Zyl and this is my first time publishing anything on FictionPress! (although I've published a couple of stories on fanfiction. net). This was written a long time ago but its taken a long time for me to gather up the courage to actually publish it anywhere. I've always only written for myself so I know it might not be the best quality. Anyway, just to get you up to speed on some of the things in this story: Although this is technically a kind of fantasy, everyone is human in this story. They live in the normal, modern-world (it's never mentioned which country it is so you can choose for yourself) and have cellphones and TV etc. There are two different "kinds" of people. The Fallentered and the Dorrenion. They are at war and donot live in the same area so it's kind of like they live in separate countries. Other than that, it could be set in America for all I know. I want to make it clear that I have no knowledge of how the army works and didn't do any type of research so in this story, I've simply called the senior guy "General" and the rest of them are "Soldier". Most of the details I've made up and this is a fictional story so I don't think that this is how it would happen in real life. Okay... Sorry for the ramble! Enjoy!
Chapter 1
Years ago, when I was still innocent, I remember my father and mother talking to my Uncle Lewis about the Fallentered, about how evil they were. They all gave their different opinions on the matter, but they all steadily agreed on one thing: The Fallentered were our enemy.
As a Dorrenion, I automatically despised all Fallentereds. I had grown up being told that they were evil. At home, we watched propaganda-filled television and read anti-Fallentered magazines and books. At school, we were all taught that Fallentereds were the worst group of humans ever to have walked the earth. The war between The Fallentered and The Dorrenion had been going on longer than anyone could remember. Often we would hear of ambushes in the dead of night. Killings. People being taken hostage. Sometimes it would be someone we knew. A group of Fallentereds killed Auntie Ruth, Lewis's wife, when I was three. Our next-door neighbour was taken hostage. My school's headmaster and his family had been brutally murdered on a Sunday afternoon.
But we killed them as well. We also took hostages and had little mercy with them. It was an evenly matched war. It sometimes seemed to me to be a stalemate. I had, on a rare occasion or two, wondered if it wouldn't be better if we just surrendered and made peace. I never told anyone about that idea; it would have been too dangerous to even admit to having such thoughts.
The Fallentered and The Dorrenion were not very different, in fact, the biggest difference seemed to be that Fallentered all had striking blonde hair and dark brown eyes and The Dorrenion all had standard brown hair and green eyes. No Fallentered ever had brown hair or green eyes and no Dorrenion ever had blonde hair or brown eyes. That was how we could tell each other apart. Other than that, there was no noticeable difference. We were all ordinary human beings with families and jobs and normal lives that we lived. The Fallentered and The Dorrenions had not lived close to one another for God knows how long. The Dorrenions lived to the west; the Fallentered lived to the east. That was all I really ever knew about them as I grew up. I never even understood why we were fighting; I don't think most people knew either. I think no one really cared. The Fallentered were the enemy and we were at war with them; that was all the justification needed.
My father hated them more than anyone else and always referred to The Fallentered as "the evil bastards who had ruined our lives" and this was a statement I never questioned. Until I was taken.
It was a Thursday evening. My mother had just begun preparing the food. My father was flipping through channels on the television. I was reading a book on my favourite chair in the lounge. My mother called me and told me to lay up for supper. I sighed, got up, stretched and went to collect knives and forks to lay out on the table in front of the TV: we never sat at the dining room table to eat except for fancy occasions. I was just about to sit down again after I had laid up when I decided to go and check my cell phone that was charging in my bedroom. I trudged down the corridor, picked up my phone and sat down as I read the message from my best friend:
OK, what about beach on Saturday? I'll ask Shaun if he, Matt, and Steven are going;) And guess who Carrie saw yesterday? Peter! Just because I like him, I don't see him! Do you think I can ask Shaun to invite him to the beach if we go? Also, my car is only getting back on Tuesday so can we use yours?:)
I smiled and began typing my reply. All of a sudden, I heard my mother scream. I had never heard her scream before and it was a terrible sound. I heard my father shouting and screaming. It sounded like a huge struggle and a fight but I just sat there, frozen. I listened and tried to understand what was happening. Soon though, the house fell silent. It was only then that I heard the five or so strange, rough and frightening voices.
"Check the rest of the house for others." Said a deep voice
Footsteps sounded on the wooden flooring of the passageway. My door was thrown open and a tall, faired haired man stood in the doorway. I had not even thought of hiding. I was still processing what was happening when he turned his head back towards the front of the house and he yelled, "General Peterson, I've got one."
Still, I was frozen sitting on my bed. He turned back to face me, took two strides into my room, reached down, caught my upper arm in a vice-grip and pulled me to my feet. With his other hand he pulled out a long, elegant blade, stained with still-wet blood from my parents, and laid it against my neck. I was still in shock and hadn't fully registered what was going on around me.
"General Peterson!" the man with the knife at my neck shouted to one of the men in the front of the house.
"I just want to check the rest of the house first. Don't let it get away!" the man called General Peterson shouted back.
The man who had me trapped shifted the knife ever so slightly into a better position to kill me if I made a run for it. My eyes flitted to my mirror and I saw myself with my back to my soon-to-be killer who had his knife ready to slit my throat. I looked at my attacker's face and his eyes suddenly caught mine in the reflection in the mirror. The deep, almost black, brown eyes pierced into my light, mossy green ones. I seemed to find my voice and it crackled to life: "Please… "
Tears now welled in my eyes while they were still locked the man's. His stare scared me and I felt more vulnerable than I had ever before as big, fat tears rolled slowly down my blanched and terrified face. I dared not move even my hands to wipe the tears off my face. I tried to read his expression but his face and his eyes gave nothing away. Minutes passed and we did not break our eye contact. Four other large men out of nowhere appeared in my room and gathered around my attacker and me.
"Soldier Irwin, we didn't find anyone else, let's kill her, she won't be of any help." the man who seemed to be the leader said and nodded toward me. My attacker was silent and still. The man spoke again. "Soldier, what are you waiting for? Kill her, we need to get going."
Eventually Soldier Irwin spoke. "General Peterson, I don't think we should kill her." My eyes flew wide open in surprise. I tried to catch Soldier Irwin's eye but the mirror was being blocked by the man called General Peterson.
"What are you talking about Soldier? What do you want us to do with her? Let her go free?" General Peterson seemed to find this amusing.
Soldier Irwin was silent again. He was thinking. "Why don't we take her hostage? She's young, but she might have some information."
"She's won't know anything and it will only slow us down on the way back." General Peterson looked like this was obvious. My hope and excitement of not being killed was fading rapidly as I realised that they had no reason to keep me alive.
"General Peterson, trust me, we need to keep her alive. I know it. Don't ask me why, but I just have a feeling." his voice sounded stubborn.
The man called General Peterson suddenly turned serious. He looked, in a way that can only be described as searchingly, at me.
After a while or so, he sighed, and said "Soldier, you're right. Rather take her than our journey be a complete waste. Tie her up and let's get going." He turned and walked out of the room, all except one man followed.
He turned and glared at Soldier Irwin. "What the fuck are you thinking, man? Why the hell are you doing this?" he pointed to me "This is just going to cause more problems. We all know that you're General Peterson's little pet but, everyone's going to hate you now, James." he didn't wait for Soldier Irwin, James, to answer as he stormed out of the room after General Peterson and the rest of the group.
James somehow managed to keep the knife pressed hard against my neck as he tied my hands together behind my back. I kept trying to catch his eye in the mirror but he ignored me completely. When he finally moved his knife, I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you." was all I could manage as he turned me around to face him and took a sack out of his pocket. His eyes locked on mine and I could not help but flinch at the obvious fury that filled them. "Shut up, you filthy bitch!" he shouted like a maniac as his hand flew out and hit me hard and stingingly across the face.
My eyes overflowed with fresh tears and he glared at me with utter repulsion. The room was silent except for my soft whimper and his heavy breathing. He shoved the rough sack over my head and spoke with a slow, harsh voice, "If you try anything, bitch, I will kill you just like I killed your parents".
A/N: Yay, first chapter done! Please keep reading :D And I would love to have some feedback so please leave a review. I'll update either on the weekend or next Wednesday:) -Cloey van Zyl