KH-vids: Camp Hope

A/N: I have no shame in stating I was inspired by Roxas's KHVR. This is similar. Sort of. Except completely different.

KH-vids: Camp Hope
by Jade Rhade​

Prolog

"Sir... aren't your afraid this measure with be received with..." the man's voice was obviously hesitant, and he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the rich red carpet between his leather-soled feet.

"Met with what, Mr. Speaker?" the answering voice was suave and sure. "Disapproval? Violence? This measure, Mr. Speaker, is intended to prevent the very acts of which you profess so much fear."

"Yes sir." The Designated Speaker of Italy sighed inwardly, but carefully kept his face neutral and his eyes on the floor. "Some of the more democratic countries may see this as a violation of their citizens' rights. Specifically, the United States has always been particularly adamant about national pride and-"

"Citizens' rights? Civil liberties?" He laughed calmly. "Are we not all citizens of Earth? Quaint customs such as 'national pride' were dispensed with over a decade ago." His voice froze like ice. "In case you've forgotten, Mr. Speaker, I was elected to this position for the betterment of our planet as a whole."

"I never challenged that, sir-"

"Do not interrupt me, Mr. Speaker," his voice lashed like a whip. "As I was saying, there will be no protest. This is for the good of humanity as a whole. Never forget that, Mr. Speaker."

"Of course, sir." The Italian lowered his head a fraction of a centimeter in an apologetic bow.

"If that will be all...?"

"That is all, Sovereign Commander," he responded defeatedly. "Thank you for your valuable time; if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to." The Speaker backed out of the room, between the two silent WSF officers keeping watchful guard toward any potential threat, real or imagined. One of those silent, stern-faced black-uniformed officers opened one of the looming double doors, and the Italian Speaker exited the chamber. As that single white door closed ominously, the Designated Speaker realized with a chill that throughout the entire meeting, he hadn't raised his eyes once to gaze directly at the Sovereign Commander of Earth.

-xXx-​

21:34 hours EST, Pennsylvania (Eastern U.S.)
22 June 2187

"Am I the only one concerned that our Sovereign Commander cares naught for the rights of us, the common people?" a young woman narrated to herself as she typed furiously. "Sovereign Commander Ashton tramples liberty and simple freedoms under the pretense of his 'better world for all'. Who is 'all'? Certainly not the common person, who ignorantly goes about his way trusting in the wisdom and goodness-"

She shook her head and tapped the backspace button several times, "-benevolence of those in power, without the slightest worry that they might not have our best interests at heart." The sixteen-year-old sat back in her chair with a sigh and re-read her statement. With a quick nod, she scrolled to the bottom of the post and clicked 'Submit Reply'. With a final glance at the message she had posted online, she exited the window and reached out one finger to shut down the computer monitor.

Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 2 (1 members and 1 guests)​

Chapter One - Belltoll

"To view the world through a rosy lens benefits neither the viewer nor those being viewed."
-Atar'shi Shinomo, First Sovereign Commander of Earth​

05:57 hours EST
23 June 2187

In the early hours of dawn, a black Sedan eased into the driveway of a home in a modest suburban neighborhood. Its headlights sharply illuminated the garage door and stabbed through the windows before being shut of as the key was removed from the ignition. A black-suited man with a shaven head emerged from the driver's seat, mirrored by a man stepping out from the passenger side. With twin, near simultaneous thunks, they slammed the car doors; the sound echoed through the neighborhood, seeming louder than normal in the sleepy suburban morning. Their polished black shoes likewise ricocheted like gunshots from the concrete walkway leading to the painted white front door.

The man with the shaven head adjusted his tie as his partner raised one black-gloved hand to rap twice sharply against the wood. "This is the World Security Force," he announced. After a moment's pause, he knocked twice again. "World Security Force," he repeated, louder. "By law, you are required to permit us entry!"

The shaven man laid a hand on his partner's shoulder, shaking his head to prevent him knocking a third time. He wiggled his fingers and formed a fist, pounding the side against the door three times.

Thud, thud, thud. "WSF," he stated, his voice deeper than his partner's. "If this door is not opened within thirty seconds, we will resort to methods of forced entry."

The second man pointed toward a second-floor window over the garage; a girl's face was plainly visible holding the curtain aside. As soon as the shaven man looked her way, she started and snapped the curtain shut.

A few seconds later, the doorknob jiggled as it was unlocked from the inside. The door was wretched open with some difficulty, and a middle-aged man stood there, blinking in the sunlight, clad in unbuttoned jeans and an overlarge T-shirt. "What do you want?"

"Mr. Jakan," the shaven man responded, pulling a card from an inside pocket identifying him as an officer of the World Security Force, Eastern American sector. "We have orders to take your daughter into custody for an indefinite amount of time." His partner pulled a folded square of canvas from his pocket and tossed it to the man.

"She has ten minutes to pack clothing and personal items into this bag," the other man continued.

"What is this about?" Jakan demanded, eyes wide. "I'm a State Police officer; tell me what my daughter is charged with!"

"Mara Jakan," the shaven man recited from memory. "Charged with speaking against the lawful Sovereign Commander of Earth." His brown eyes narrowed. "As an officer of the law, we can expect your full cooperation in this matter." It was phrased as a question, stated as fact.

The man's shoulders slumped as he stared at the folded bag in his hand. As a police officer, he knew what awaited those charged with speaking against the Sovereign Commander.

"Resistance is useless," the shaven man added emotionlessly, pulling his sleeve back and glancing at his watch. "Her ten minutes to gather her things has been reduced to nine."

Jakan's fists clenched, and he reached behind his back to draw a pistol. "Bas****s!" he shouted. Before he could bring the state-issued weapon to bear, the shaven man's fist whipped around to backfist Jakan across the head with inhuman strength.

The man flew back across the living room and slammed into an armchair, slumping unconscious to the floor.

"Mara Jakan," the shaven man announced, stepping over the threshold, shoes clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. "You are hereby being taken into custody by the World Security Force. Resistance will be punished."

The girl who had been in the second-floor window stood at the top of the stairs. "What have you done to my father?!" she screamed. "What do you want from me!?" A Swiss Army knife was clutched in both hands, a feeble attempt at defense.

"Mara Jakan," the shaven man's partner murmured. "Fits description perfectly." He raised his voice. "Mr. Jakan is not seriously injured. He will regain consciousness in a matter of minutes."

The man with the shaved head reached into his pocket and removed a damp cloth. "Here," he announced, showing the black wad of cloth. "You may use this to revive him and allay your concerns." He flicked his wrist, and the girl- Mara Jakan- reflexively caught it in one hand before it hit her face.

Glaring suspiciously at them, she made her way slowly down the stairs. As she reached the second-to-last step, her eyelids fluttered and she put a hand against the wall to steady herself. The two officers watched impassionately as she collapsed down the last few feet.

The shaven man crossed the living room, stepping over Jakan's limp body, and kicked the knife away from her hands. It skittered across the floor and slid to a stop some feet away. Mara's brown hair laid like a curtain over her face, but already her breathing rate was increasing as her body fought the paralytic toxins soaked in the cloth. "You may gather clothing and personal things," he stated as the last traces of the poison were eliminated from her system. "But only as much as will fit in this bag."

His partner, crouched by Jakan's unconscious body, tossed the folded square of canvas to land before her. It's thud echoed through the room, and the clock ticked to 0600 hours. Across town, the church bell began to ring, summoning the faithful to service.

Chapter Two - Silence

"I've always considered the phrase 'survival games' to be an oxymoron."
- American General Richard Brown, Year 2058​

1800 hours EEST, Libyan Desert (Southwest Egypt)
25 June 2187

Silence had never been so oppressive. But that was all right. In her current state, Wolf doubted she would be that good of a conversationalist anyway. She raised her arm and rubbed her face with her white tee shirt sleeve, smearing dirt and grime and sweat and tears across the clean white fabric, where it dried almost instantly in the baking heat. Shoulder-length black strands whipped the air behind her, tangling with every jolt that traveled through the metal chassis and thin canvas-covered seat; she had given up restraining her hair after the first hour. The constant roar of the engine died down for the briefest of seconds as the driver switched gears and flew over a sand dune. That second of silence scoured Wolf's mind with pleasant hopes that she was at last waking from this horrid nightmare-

With a thud, the old military-issue Jeep slammed down on the road, banishing any happy dreams of normal life. Every rock and bump in the dirt road was a constant reminder of her own personal hell.

Cold grey walls enclosed her in a bare four-foot by four-foot cell. Shivering, fourteen-year-old Marissa Darren tugged her knees to her chest and rocked gently back and forth in an attempt to coax warmth from trembling muscles. The canvas duffel the WSF officers had forced her to pack had been taken from her; clad only in paint-splattered blue jeans and a white tee shirt, the young teen had never felt so vulnerable. Even her shoes had been taken from her, and the chill of the floor stabbed into her bare feet; she could only assume they had been taken to search for weapons.

That was a joke. As if there had been time to secret any weapons in the frantic ten minutes she had had to gather her things and say her farewells to her parents. Marissa didn't know how long she'd been in that cell after being taken, gazing hollowly at the thin line running down the center of the thick sheet-metal door. It felt as if she had been there for years.

Thunk Marissa's head snapped up at the half-imagined sound. She held her breath in almost painful anticipation, waiting for another noise to convince her that she was not forgotten, alone in this oppressive silence-

She heard a quick series of beeps as if a combination were being punched rapidly into a keypad. Marissa's heart soared, and she scrambled to her feet, tugging at the hem of her shirt. With a terrifying abruptness, the crack in the wall split open and retracted in the space of a single heartbeat. Her breath caught in her throat as a black-suited World Security Force officer ducked his head to enter her cell; she retreated back until she thudded against the wall. No chance of escape...

"Marissa Darren," the officer stated emotionlessly. "Began to show the earliest signs of metal breakdown after two hours of solitary confinement."

Two... hours? That's all?

Marissa crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt at defiance. "What do you want?" she managed, striving in vain to keep the telltale quake of fear from her voice.

The officer's voice remained even, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "You admit to publishing an anti-government statement on an online message board under the alias DPWolf?"

A brief pause as a thousand and one thoughts raced through her mind, then finally the lie; "What are you talking about?"

The man pulled aside his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper from an inside pocket. "Response to a post submitted by one Mara Jakan, alias Jade Rhade, on the online forum KH-vids.net." He unfolded the paper deliberately. "You quote Jade Rhade's statement of 'Sovereign Commander Ashton tramples liberty and simple freedoms under the pretense of his better world for all', and agree, posting 'Ashton is only frantically grabbing for power. The unknown threat he constantly refers to is only a ploy to keep others from challenging his position'."

He lowered the paper, raising one eyebrow. "Those are treasonous statements, Miss Darren," he said softly.

Her stomach clenched, and her nails bit into her crossed arms. "You have no way to prove that was written by me" Marissa grasped at straws.

"We tracked you IP address, and the government has ways of finding people who don't want to be found." He smiled tightly. "Even if we could not prove it, proof will not matter much, I'm afraid." His voice was insincerely regretful. "Treason is treason. As an American citizen and a minor, we cannot execute you.

"However, we can hold you in this cell for another four years. On your eighteenth birthday, when you become an adult in the eyes of your society, we will then be able to legally execute you."

Marissa's breath came short, and she shivered uncontrollably. Two hours alone in this cell had been bad enough; this man was talking years.

He would keep her there the rest of her life.

Knees suddenly weak, she slid down the wall like a limp doll, brown eyes liquid with crashing waves of unadulterated terror and hopelessness. A lifetime's worth of dreams and aspirations and loves and losses burned to ashes by two coldly spoken sentences. Her mouth worked silently as she attempted to say something, anything; it was all she could do to keep tears from spilling down her face in a fiery cascade.

"However-" the officer said again, holding up one finger to ensure he had her attention, (as if she had anything else to focus on). "This does not necessarily have to happen."

Almost afraid to dare hope, Marissa looked up, anguished fear carved into her face as a reflection of her soul.

"Admit to your treasonous statements," he suggested emotionlessly, folding the single sheet of paper with agonizing deliberateness. "Plead guilty to your crime against the world, and you will be set free." He slapped the paper against his gloved palm. "You will be put into a labor camp for an unknown amount of time, but there you will be among peers instead of trapped in this, which will surely become your cage." His dark eyes bored into her very soul, frighteningly piercing in their blankness. "You will go mad in less than a year in these, your present circumstances."

He again unfolded that same piece of paper and offered it to her the way one offers a treat to a beaten dog. "All you need to do is sign, affirming that the above statement was indeed made by you." Extended in his left hand was a fountain pen; his right offered the paper that damned as well as saved her.

She was trembling in indecision, but her choice was already made; with the fate of spending the rest of her life in solitary confinement, alone in this four by four cell, Marissa reached out and slowly took the pen and paper. Without reading the terms printed underneath the damning post, she blindly scratched out her signature. She had barely finished the 'n' of Marissa Darren when the pen and paper were snatched away.

"Excellent." The WSF officer reached around outside the open prison door and grabbed her canvas duffel bag, tossing it to her with easily one hand. "You will be transferred to Camp Hope in Africa." He again reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small white cloth with black lettered embroidered across it. "A tag like this one has been stamped onto or sewn into your clothing."

His cold eyes measured her. "Your name belongs to us now, to be returned when we so choose. You will be referred to only as Wolf." He flipped the cloth over in his palm to show the four letters stenciled in black.

Wolf unconsciously raised her fingers to the cloth embedded over her left breast. Her fingers traced the dark, block letters as if they were engraved on her heart.

She blinked as a looming shadow was cast over her face and glanced up as the Jeep slowed, pulling up to the gate of a large, fenced in compound. She didn't look at the three other teens seated beside her in the backseat, keeping her gaze focused sharply on examining the armed guards patrolling the towers and the barbed wire lining every inch of the fencing.

Anything was better than silence.

A/N: I'd like to thank a good friend of mine for giving me the opening quote for this chapter... he's referred to as "Robert Johnson", though that's not his real name. Thanks, Robert.

Chapter Three - Candlelight

"Hope is an illusion created to shield the weak from the inevitable truth."
- Author Robert Johnson, Year 2007​

18:30 hours EEST, Libyan Desert (Southwestern Egypt)
25 June 2187

As Wolf brooded in the backseat of the Jeep, Zexion of the Twilight pushed sweaty black hair away from his face with a sigh. He shielded his eyes with one hand as he gazed through the sharpened chain links of the fence before him, squinting against the sun's harsh glare reflecting off the sand. "Camp Hope," he muttered to himself, shaking his head at the bitter irony of it all; his untamed hair fell back over his eyes at the movement. He swallowed splinters of glass and nearly choked on his sandpaper tongue, feeling his stomach grumble weakly. They had been given nothing to eat nor drink for... it seemed like days, though logically Zott knew it could be no more than a handful of hours. He clenched his fist and resumed his study of the compound he knew would shortly become his home.

Four towers patrolled by armed WSF officers guarded each corner of the compound; Zott noted absently that they seemed focused more on the motionless desert outside than what was happening in camp. The links of the chain fence were sharpened as if every individual link were a blade; the sun reflected from the metal in hundreds upon thousands upon millions of tiny candlelights winking and stuttering with every gust of wind. The wind whispered through each sharpened link, brushing his face with the tender caress of a lover, speaking sweet words of despair with every hollow ***** that rang through the air and shivered him to the bone. Flee, murmured the wind; stay moaned another, and all through this haunting lullaby of death, those thousand thousand twinkling candles winked merrily at him. Fence-blades sang like corpse-chimes, a lilting hymn of drowning, falling, shrinking into an infinite abyss of nothingness-

With a shuddering gasp, Zott jerked his gaze away and shook his head roughly. He cleared his throat and winced at the rasp of his voice. "Camp Hope," he repeated, as if to convince himself this was no dream.

The Jeep dipped a bit, its idling engine whining as their driver clambered back into his seat, shouting something in Arabic to the uniformed guard cradling his semi-automatic inside the security booth outside the massive gate looming over them. The guard responded with something equally as unintelligible and returned to his post, manipulating a baffling array of levers and switches. The driver turned and grinned at them, revealing one gold tooth. "You get out now," he stated in broken English. "New home."

Zott felt his stomach flip over, and he blinked rapidly. His vision narrowed for a moment as he rose, dizzy with dehydration and pure, honest fear. The world seemed determined to flip upside-down as he stood, and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself against the metal framework. Zott could feel bile rising in his throat, and he had to fight the urge not to faint and vanish and die beneath the shifting sands of the desert.

"Hey," a low voice rasped; his vision cleared a bit and he saw the second girl leaning closer to him, voice barely louder than the idling engine. "You alright?"

He nodded reflexively, keeping enough presence of mind to glance down at her nametag. J... something... his vision swam, and he looked away quickly, afraid she could see the weakness on his face. "Fine," he managed to lie. "Just stiff."

She might have said something in return, but he couldn't hear it. Everything had turned to a dull roar in his ears; a dull roar, and that cheerful morbid call of the corpse-chimes penetrating through his skull until it felt as though it would explode.

The Jeep dipped again as Wolf leaped from the back to land in a crouch on the sand. She stood almost instantly, sharp black eyes analyzing everything around her. The second male followed, extending his hand to the J-girl. She ignored the offered hand and landed hard on the sand, one hand sinking into the dust. She also stood and brushed sand from her arms. She and the other male waited, and with a pained swallow, Zott realized they were waiting for him. The earth rotated crazily on its axis as he tried to walk forward in a drunken stagger.

Suddenly he was face first on the sand with no memory of jumping. "Hey, kid," J-something turned him over, a small sound all but overwhelmed by the corpse-chimes shattering his skull.

"Thirteen," he answered, coughing sand and fighting the encroaching tunnel-like vision.

"What?" she leaned over him, dark blonde hair tickling his lips.

"I'm not a kid," he choked out. "I'm thirteen."

The other male laughed shortly. Zott squinted and managed to read his nametag; it labeled him as Roxasvsriku.

A series of dry, shuddering coughs racked his body, and Zott somehow climbed to his hands and knees. "I'm fine," he repeated.

"Huh." Roxasvsriku crouched down beside him and offered a hand. "Come on, kid." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Zott's arm and hoisted him roughly to his feet, grabbing his duffel with his other hand. "Got to keep moving forward, 'cause there sure as hell ain't nothing waiting for us back home."

"Isn't anything," J corrected absently, grabbing Zott's other arm. Though the letters kept re-arranging themselves across her nametag, he finally saw what he thought was her name. "Jade?"

"Mm?" She glanced down, grey-green eyes warily concerned.

He shook his head, hearing sand crunching behind him. Wolf stalked past, ignoring them completely other than a snapped, "move it."

Supported by Roxasvsriku on one side and Jade holding his other arm, Zott half-walked, half-stumbled across the sand, fighting the urge to vomit as he approached those corpse-chimes and their twinkling candles. The gate opened slowly, allowing them to enter.

Zott stopped and glanced back as he passed through; the Jeep had been thrown into reverse and was backing away as fast as it could. As he watched, it turned around and rocketed over a sand dune. "He's sure in a hurry," he pointed out thickly.

The others turned as the gate began to swing ponderously shut. With the finality of death, it clanked shut and locked. An aluminum sign banged harshly against the fence-blades like a death-toll, reading in faded red letters "Camp Hope," illuminated by the thousand million candles shedding their downcast glow across the desert.

As they turned back, yet another World Security Force officer stood across from them. "Welcome," he announced, brushing some blown sand from his uniform sleeve, "to Camp Hope. Follow me." Every syllable was chopped out with the same brutal efficiency, lending him a clipped, subtle accent.

With little choice in the matter, the four followed, footsteps echoing ominously from the prefabricated concrete buildings lining the pressed-sand roads; they looked like tan squares stacked one on top of the other, with white PVC ladders connecting the uppermost ones to the ground. The utter silence was eeriely broken only by the gentle whisper of the fence-blades greeting another.

"You are fortunate," the officer continued in his same brusque accent. "Everyone is at evening meal."

His stomach grumbled unhappily at the mention of food, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and focused simply on putting one foot in front of another. He pulled his arms from the others' grasp and walked on his own, giving them an uncertain nod in response to their concerned glances.

"Here." The officer in front of a prefab that looked indistinguishable from all the rest and pointed to a ladder leading up to the second square, gesturing sharply for them to head up. Zott followed behind Wolf as she climbed up the ladder with practiced efficiency he could only hope to imitate. He clumsily scrambled to the landing, noticing with some surprise that sometime during their walk his dizziness had disappeared to be replaced with only a dull gnawing ache in his stomach. He knelt and offered his hand to Jade as she approached the top, but she ignored it the same way she had dismissed Roxasvsriku's extended hand, levering herself up. He stood and walked behind her without offering Roxasvsriku a hand up. The other male's hand flailed limply in the air before catching hold and hoisting himself up. "I see how it is," he accused Zott with a wry grin.

"These will be your sleeping quarters," the officer announced, resting at the top of the ladder without climbing up. "Go." His hand extended to point at the door set into the concrete. With a half-snort, half-sigh, Wolf turned the pitted faux-brass knob and wretched the door ajar. The hinges made an irritated creee as she thrust her hip into the side, pushing it completely open.

Zott entered cautiously, blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus his gaze on anything in the pitch-dark room. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through one small, dingy plastic window, he could make out the shapes of four sleeping mats laid out across the floor. There was a sink and a toilet in a smaller alcove, separated from the rest of the room by thin dividing walls. There was no door. A pit in the floor with a rusty metal drain and a hanging hose took up the rest of the space in the facsimile of a bathroom.

"The four of you will live here," the man stated, resting his forearms against the landing, still with no move to finish his climb up the ladder. "Here, your survival will depend on the three other people with you. The bell will ring for morning meal at 0400 hours. Morning meal begins at 04:30 and ends at 04:55. You will then be assigned to your station. More information will be given to you." And then the officer was gone.

Zott rushed to the landing to see the officer walking calmly away as if he had not just jumped two stories to the ground. He fell to his knees and hollowly gazed at the red sun slowly nearing the horizon, realizing blankly that it was nowhere near setting. Its angry glare painted the fence-blades with a streaky red like fresh-spilt blood, a thousand thousand red cadaveric candles.

He turned, hearing the scuff of a shoe on concrete. Roxasvsriku stood behind him, watching the reflection of the sun against the fence. "C'mon, kid." He jerked his head back toward the prefab. "The girls'll take all the space before we get in there if we're not careful." He grinned comradely, seemingly untouched by all the implied horror around them.

"Y-yeah." Mouth slightly open, Zott nodded dully, turning away from the baking heat to the promise of the cool darkness inside the prefab. He reflexively caught his thrown duffel; he had forgotten Roxasvsriku had been carrying it for him.

The only sound as he forced the door shut was the soft peal of the fence-blades blowing gently in the breeze, and then it was quiet.[/color]

Chapter Four - Shadows

"If the brightest light casts the deepest shadow, does that mean within the deepest shadow there exists a glimmer of light?"
- Unknown author​

Libyan Desert (Southwestern Egypt)
25 June 2187

Roxasvsriku sighed as he slumped down against the concrete wall next to the door, resting his head against its cool surface to relieve the throbbing headache brought on by shift from intense heat to cool darkness. He cracked open one eye to see the others choosing sleeping mats and unzipping overstuffed bags. "You know in deserts, the temperature gets down really low compared to during the daytime?" He raised one brown eyebrow, blue eyes sparkling. "If you get cold during the night, one of you ladies may sleep with me if you must."

Wolf hmph’d and Jade shook her head with an exasperated air.

"Oh, my apologies," he adopted a look of consternation. "I meant both of you may sleep with me if you wish."

Jade laughed aloud. "You don't know when to quit, do you?" She offered a malicious grin. "Maybe I'd rather sleep with Zexion here."

Zott's eyes widened, and he edged away from the young woman with barely disguised panic.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" She laughed and stretched her arms out in front of her. Jade sobered quickly and thrust herself back to sit cross-legged against the opposite wall. "We should introduce ourselves," she stated, "since we're going to be living together for who knows how long." She looked to each of them in turn. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'll go first," he decided, closing his eyes and self-consciously scratching his head of brown hair. "I'm known as Roxasvsriku, but 'cause that's a mouthful, just call me Rvr." After a few moments silence, he opened one eye again. "What?"

"And...?" Jade prompted. "Tell us about yourself. What do you like?"

As expected, the first answer out of his mouth was "Girls."

"Never mind," she cut him off quickly, rolling her eyes. "My name's Jade. I'm an aspiring author and decent martial artist." She shrugged and glanced down at the floor. "I wanted to achieve black belt before I graduated high school, but this whole imprisonment gig kinda shot those plans in the *ss."

"How sad!" Rvr allowed his eyes to widen in mock sorrow. "You may cry in my arms if you like."

"You're insufferable."

He grinned modestly at the perceived compliment. "I try."

"I'm Zexion of the Twilight," the other male jumped in reluctantly, looking at the floor between his feet. Rvr noticed the boy seemed to have pulled himself together. The boy sat on a sleeping mat hugging his knees into his chest. "You can call me Zexion, or Zott... I don't really care which." He stuck out his lower lip and tried to blow his hair from his face, failing miserably.

"And...?" Jade repeated, raising an eyebrow; Zott shrugged sheepishly.

"Dunno," he answered uncomfortably. Rvr could almost see gloom radiating off him in visible waves.

"Hey, kid." He rested his elbow on his knee and regarded him with one open eye. "Are you emo?"

"Hell no!" Zott jerked up and glared, obviously offended.

"Good. That's all I needed to know." Rvr closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. He heard the scrape of a sneaker against concrete, and was yet again forced to open his eyes.

Wolf had crossed the room and come to a stop in the curtain-less shower. She attempted to turn the rusty knob with one hand, but it stubbornly resisted her strength. "What is it with this place and rusty difficult-to-use things?" she mumbled, scowling darkly. She wrapped both hands around the knob and yanked. The metal groaned harshly, refusing to yield. "Stupid-piece-of-" she tugged with each word, "-sh*t!" With a grudging squeal, the knob gave in; a small trickle of rusty brown water dripped down from the showerhead and pooled into her cupped hands.

"You're not going to... drink that, are you?" Rvr stared with fascination. "That can't be very sanitary."

""I'm sorry," she retorted with biting sarcasm, meeting his blue eyes with her own glare. "Perhaps you would like to plead to our captors for water? Maybe they'll kindly give you some out of the goodness of their hearts."

"No, I mean wait a second." He cast his eyes to the heavens with a long-suffering look. "This compound likely gets its water from an underground well. If you let the water run for a minute, it will rinse most of the loose rust from the pipes. See?" He pointed without looking. "The water isn't brown anymore."

The reddish-brown water that had been streaming from the tap had indeed become clearer. Wolf emptied her previous handful and waited impatiently for her hands to fill.

Rvr raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome...?" he gestured, waiting in vain for a 'thank-you'.

"I am Wolf," she conceded reluctantly without looking at the other three. "I'm fourteen. I don't care if you hate me. I don't like you either. I'm not looking for friends."

"Ouch." Jade winced.

Zott shrugged half-heartedly. "At least she's honest."

"Jade!" Rvr pointed to her imperiously. "I have something to add to my introduction!"

"...okay?"

"It is now my new life goal to make Wolf not hate me." He smiled broadly at the aloof female, but she ignored him.

Jade's eyebrow raised to mirror his. "You had a previous life goal?"

"Well..." he thought about it. "No. That makes this my first life goal."

Wolf took a long drink from her cupped hands and wiped her mouth. "The first goal you set for yourself usually fails."

"For someone who hates us, you seem to be carrying on a halfway-to-intelligent conversation." Rvr closed his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Hm." She tilted her head slightly but didn't look at him, focusing on filling her hands with water. "Perhaps."

A curtain of silence dropped between them, and Rvr assumed his customary pose with one leg stretched out and the other pulled in to his chest.

For all his posturing and self-assuredness, he knew he was probably the biggest coward in the room, with the possible exception of Wolf. He opened one eye yet again and contemplated the young woman; with her projected attitude, it was obvious to him that she was completely terrified and trying her best not to show it. He doubted the others had noticed it, but her hands trembled as she brought her cupped hands to her lips to drink.

Another thing he had decided; he was going to have to be the glue that cemented the group together; he could already feel Wolf's abrasiveness rubbing Jade the wrong way. The other young woman was managing to keep her growing irritation well hidden; Rvr knew none of the others had perceived the aura surrounding her.

Ah well, briefly closing his eyes, he breathed in deep and tried to ignore the stench of confinement the walls themselves exuded. " That's a problem for another day. Without his hands touching the floor, Rvr stood, hair brushing the low ceiling. "I'll assume you ladies are old enough to get a shower by yourselves, but if you absolutely need a partner, I suppose I can resign myself to such a terrible ordeal."

"I think we'll manage." Jade rolled her eyes. "Somehow."

"Your loss." He shrugged and smirked, stopping with his hand on the doorknob. "Hey, kid." Rvr prodded Zott with his foot. "This isn't a spectator sport."

Zott flushed. "I wasn't trying to-" he scrambled to a standing position.

"It should be," Rvr continued without missing a beat. "Just like how I petitioned the high school locker rooms be co-ed for equality between the sexes."

"Out!" Rvr was forced to duck Jade's whipped shoe. "Or at least on the other side of the wall." She used the other shoe to point to the thin wall dividing one side of the bathroom area from the rest of the room.

"Yeah, yeah." Never once loosing his smirk, Rvr pulled the door open, shoving Zott out before him. "Don't use all the hot water before I get in there."

"I doubt there will be any hot water," Wolf stated matter-of-factly.

"...It was a joke." He shook his head and closed the door behind him. "Girls," he sighed wistfully. "You've gotta love 'em." Rvr leaned against the wall of their prefab home and slid his hands into his pockets.

Zott didn't respond, sitting silently on the edge of the landing and staring at the fence surrounding them.

"Kid," Rvr sat next to him and let his foot dangle over the edge, bumping the other boy's shoulder, "you've got to stop this moping and worrying." He followed his gaze, feeling a vague chill enter his bones despite the day's heat. "Yes, the fence is sharpened. Yes, they make creepy noises when they brush against each other. But you know what?" He turned to face him. "This could be worse."

"Worse how?" With a hoarse laugh, Zott shifted his gaze from the fence to Rvr's face.

He closed his eyes and rested his weight against his hands, feeling the warmth of the concrete leech into his palms. "You could be here by yourself."

"Huh." Zott thought about it and nodded. "I guess you're right."

"I'm always right. People just usually lack the intelligence to see it."

A faint smile crossed his face, and he imitated Rvr's pose, turning to face the blood-red sun and closing his eyes. An easy silence fell between them, and they sat like that for some time.

Rvr was almost drifting off to sleep when he was smacked by a wet cloth. "Move over," Jade ordered, sliding her bare foot between them and dropping to sit in the middle. She was toweling her hair dry with a shirt; obviously the cloth she had hit him with. "There was nothing in the way of towels," she explained to Zott's mystified gaze. "Wolf's in the shower now."

"You sound better," Rvr noted. "You have a nice voice when your throat's not filled with sand."

Zott rolled his eyes. "I doubt flattery will get you anywhere."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She swung both feet over the edge like a little kid sitting in the kitchen chair that was far too high.

"Oh really?" Rvr's eyebrows waggled suggestively.

She punched his shoulder. "No. I lied."

"Ow..." he rubbed the wounded spot and gave her an injured pout.

"You'll get over it."

"I think not." He sighed and stuck his lower lip out pitifully. "I need a kiss to make it feel better."

Zott groaned. "Do you ever quit? That's getting really annoying."

The shadows cast by the fence shed stripes of darkness across his face as he just laughed and stared out at the merciless blood-red sun. "That's what I'm here for."

Chapter Five - Fall

"The entire nation demands answers from their government... how could this have happened? Heads will roll, mark my words. I'll stake my job on it."
- Newscaster reporting on Bio-Weapon release, 7 June 2187​

03:56 hours EEST, Libyan Desert (Southwestern Egypt)
26 June 2187

I always wanted to go somewhere. I read a lot, and write even more. But of all the books I've read, of all the adventures I've dreamed up on a lazy Saturday afternoon, nothing could have prepared me for my own adventure.

Adventures are like your best friend's girlfriend; they look great from the outside, but once she's yours, you're in a whole world of trouble. That's the conclusion I have come to regarding my own hell. The author of my life's story (clearly not me at this point, contrary to the beliefs my English teachers drilled into me... I still remember that stupid poster hanging over the chalkboard proclaiming "YOU are the author of your own life story!"... what a joke) must be one sadistic person himself: whether God, gods, or simply the Sovereign Commander; whoever he is, he has one hell of a sense of humour.

My hell has been dubbed "Camp Hope".

With a sigh, Bunterx laid down his pen atop one of his many notebooks and rubbed his eyes. Dawn would come far too soon, he knew, as the faintest stars could be seen fading from the eastern horizon. The young man glanced at his watch; only a few more minutes of peace before the morning bell.

As he shut his notebook and slid the pen through the plastic spiral holding the pages together, Bunterx heard the scrape of cloth against mat and saw one of the others sit up; judging from the silhouette, she was female. "Sorry," he whispered, a small, sheepish smile crossing his face. "I didn't mean to wake anyone."

"It's alright," a female voice responded with a suppressed yawn; from the way she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and her vocal inflection, he knew it had to be K a i r i. "It's got to be close to morning, right?"

"Yeah." The Brit placed his notebook carefully atop duffel. "The uniforms're already here."

"Oh?" K a i r i's hair whipped her shoulders when she turned to look. Four neatly starched and pressed khaki uniforms sat folded in a row against the bathroom's dividing wall. "So they have," she agreed, looking back towards him. "Writing again?"

Bunterx shrugged and offered a half smile. "I think I've really got the opening written well this time."

"I hope so," she shook her head with a low laugh. "You've been working on it since we got here... how long ago?"

That took a moment's thought. "At least three weeks," he decided finally. "We've had three Fridays."

"Mm." K a i r i nodded. "That seems about right." Her blanket rustled as she drew the thin cloth up to her shoulders, staring pensively past him out the window. "I wonder what my parents are doing right now?"

"Well, we dunno what time zone we're in right now, do we? And who really cares about them anymore, anyway?" Surprised and a little ashamed at the bitter tone of his voice, he frowned and snatched his notebook again, flipping to a clean page.

Maybe I'm going mad, he scribbled, pen skating furiously across the page. My adventure seems to be sucking the soul from my every action and word, leaving me hollow and callous, a doppelganger wearing my face with my soul trapped inside. It (my soul) pounds relentlessly but hopelessly against a barrier wrought of fear and desperation, and maybe even a little madness, until this small remnant of the boy I had been a thousand years ago lays down to rest and recover, leaving that ever-increasing barrier to expand, unchecked. I fear it will one day conquer my mind entirely and leave me a bare echo of what I had once been.

Finally, he lifted the pen from the paper and looked past her, unwilling to meet her eyes. "Sorry," he whispered again. "That was uncalled for."

K a i r i nodded to acknowledge his apology, then shrugged in a dismissive so-what? "Another burst of inspiration," she asked bemusedly, pointing to the pen clutched in his hand.

"Oh." He released his death-grip on the pen and let it fall to the floor. "Umm... kind of." He leaned over and slid the pen back into its place in the spiral of the notebook.

"May I read it?"

"Uh-!" Bunterx's mind raced as he tried to figure out a polite way to say 'f- no!'

"Not until you're finished, of course!" she added hastily. "One of my friends back home would never let me see until she was finished. Whenever you're ready."

"That sounded vaguely kinky," another voice mumbled from across the room, and K a i r i blushed.

"Shut up, Forsaken!" She reached over and grabbed her camp-issued boot, whipping it across the room at him.

BONG! rang the great bell atop the closest guard tower, echoed in turn by the other three around the camp.

BONG! "Fu-!" Kitty_mckechnie exclaimed, jolting awake, hair flying into her face and mouth as she bolted up. "I'm never gonna get used to that!" She spat hair and groaned, flopping back down to her pillow.

"If the bell doesn't wake a person, your mouth will," Forsaken Shadow muttered, burying his head under his arms as if to physically ward off the next two belltolls.

By the time the fourth bell had resounded through the camp, Bunterx had already picked his way across the room and was checking the names stamped across the chest of each; he didn't really know why he bothered- his own was always the first one on the left, with the rest following in alphabetical order. "Kitty," he tossed her the bundle farthest from his, "K a i r i." Toss. He picked up the last one and threw it. "Forsaken."

For a second it looked as though the other male would just let the clothes hit him, but he moved his hand and caught it at the last second without opening his eyes. "Another day," Forsaken dropped the bundle beside his sleeping mat and threw his arm over his eyes. "Another day of backbreaking labor without getting a penny for it. And I thought my old job sucked."

Bunterx snorted a laugh but said nothing, tugging his shirt over the tee shirt he had slept in. His false name, BUNTERX, splayed across his left breast in dark block letters.

"Did anyone else notice," Kitty spoke up, her back to them as she pulled off her overlarge tee shirt, "the uniforms have been designed to take out most possible weapons?" She pulled a white tank top over her head and turned to face the other three.

"Instead of lace, our boots have zippers and Velcro straps so we can't choke anyone or hang ourselves. The shirts are fitted so excess cloth can't be caught in machinery, which could do everything from slowing down manufacturing to killing us. No belts for the pants. No pockets to hide anything in-"

"Can't break the window; it's made of some kind of plastic instead of glass," K a i r i added, tapping her knuckles against the grimly, sandblown window. "Also, no buttons to bugger up machinery."

"This is a very morbid conversation," Forsaken spoke up without opening his eyes. "I thought about this days ago. The best thing they gave us that could possibly be used as a weapon is the shower-hose. You can hang yourself or someone else with that thing." He finally sat up with a yawn. "Or you could just bash their head off a wall several times. What's for breakfast?"

-xXx-​

4:34 hours EEST

"Hey, look." Kitty stood on tiptoe to look over his shoulder and point. "Noobs."

"Really?" Bunterx tore open the packaging of his protein square and took a bite. "Disgusting."

"Don't try to pretend you're not interested; that's Forsaken's gig." Kitty tapped K a i r i on the shoulder. "Come on, since they're going to pretend to be all bored." She nodded across the crowded cafeteria to two boys and two girls attempting to look like they knew what they were doing.

Forsaken stood from his spot where he'd been sitting on the floor silently munching his protein square. "I guess I'll come," he exchanged a long-suffering look with Bunterx. "Come on, Bunt."

His eyebrow spasmed. "Bunterx."

Forsaken grinned and set off to pick his way across the cafeteria, giving Bunterx little choice but to follow. Kitty and K a i r i had already made it to the four the former had so eloquently referred to as "noobs". Evidently she wasn't the only one who had noticed; he saw several people gathered around the four newcomers. He joined the circle in time to hear the shortest of them exclaim; "this is terrible!"

"Get used to it... Zexion?" Bunterx held up his matching protein square. "Breakfast of champions."

"Zott," he introduced himself.

"Is this really breakfast every day?" This one's shirt labeled him as Roxasvsriku. "I'm going to draft a strongly worded letter to the Sovereign Commander telling him just how disappointed I am with his food."

"We get a square and a half on Fridays," riku sora kairi own pointed out.

"Yum," he responded sarcastically. "Oh, right... just call me Rvr."

"Risk Own."

"While we're all introducing ourselves, I'm Forsaken." Forsaken draped his arm around the shorter male's shoulders. "And I'll call you Zexy."

"Uh, hell no." Zott pushed his arm away with an expression of disgust.

Bunterx laughed. "He's gonna do it anyway... just ignore him. We all do."

"Owned!" Risk Own stuck out his tongue.

Forsaken smiled calmly as if unaffected by the taunt. "I'll rip your tongue out if you do that again."

"So, you're a martial artist, too?" K a i r i was speaking with the one labeled as Jade. "What style?"

"Tang Soo Do... it's Korean." The female had already finished her breakfast square and leaned over to Zott. "Are you gonna eat that?"

"Yes." He shoved the remains in his mouth at once. "Mooch." Almost choking, he started coughing violently.

She grinned and turned back. "I've been training for almost a year now. What about you?"

"Karate," K a i r i replied with a smile. "Maybe we should spar sometime."

"I'd like that." Jade frowned and glanced to Forsaken, who had echoed her comment. "What?"

He smiled innocently. "Hee... no reason."

"Oh really?" Rvr grinned. "Why do I have the feeling this guy is a class-less, ignorant, thoroughly unsophisticated, lower version of me?"

"Pervert mindlink," Wolf stated bitingly.

"Ah! She spoke!" Rvr jumped up and hugged her. "That makes six words since I woke up!"

She calmly dug her thumbnail into his arm until he let go with a whimper. "I'll hang you using the shower hose," she promised coldly.

"A girl after my own heart," Forsaken sighed wistfully.

Wolf glared scathingly but didn't dignify that with a response.

"What's been going on in the outside world?" Bunterx addressed them all. "The last thing I saw on the news was something about an attempted bombing in some city on the East Coast of America."

A chill fell over the gathering as the four newcomers closed their eyes.

"Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The entire city was destroyed," Wolf said finally. "Thousands or millions were killed."

Jade nodded sharply. "I had family in Philly. It was no attempt. It succeeded." Her fist clenched. "June sixth. I was going to visit them the next week," she added through clenched teeth.

"Wha..." Bunterx numbly felt Kitty grab his shoulder as his knees threatened to buckle. "How...?"

Wolf laughed bitterly. "Bio weapon."

His stomach, already feeling like a block of ice, felt as if he had been punched. "What?" he could only whisper, and he felt Kitty's grip tighten; she must have been using him for support as much as he was leaning on her.

"The scientists were working on it within the city," Zott spoke up, staring at the floor. "Supposedly developed from alien matter-"

"More conspiracy theories for Ashton to use to weave his smokescreen of an unknown threat," Jade interrupted, but waved for Zott to continue.

"It... got loose. Infected most of the inner city within an hour."

Rvr shook his head slowly. "The scientists were among the first to fall victim. It must have killed them almost instantly; there would have been no time to activate any alarms." He snorted. "At least that's what the official government report released."

"By the time word had reached the President, the weapon was spreading through the city like wildfire." Zott didn't or couldn't look anyone in the eye as he emotionlessly spoke. "The Air Force was mobilized-"

"And Philadelphia was bombed out of the pages of history," Jade finished. "Everything within a ten-mile radius of the outermost suburbs of the city was incinerated to a fine ash. Buildings, people..."

"People who never even came in contact with this bio weapon...?" K a i r i asked hoarsely.

"Killed," Wolf stated coldly, but her eyes burned. "Even historical artifacts of our country's history were obliterated. The Liberty Bell, Independence Hall... everything's just a plain of dark ash where there used to be a city."

"And not just Philly," Rvr said, looking straight at Bunterx. "Athens, Bombay, Cape Town, Paris... if not razed to the ground, they were quarantined. The Eiffel Tower looks over an empty city, now. Corpses line the streets."

Risk Own rubbed his arms, shivering. "How could something like that happen?" Goosebumps formed on his skin despite the day's heat. "Aren't there some kind of-"

"Preventative measures?" Rvr finished, shaking his head. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Jade didn't look at anyone as she spoke. "The conspiracy theory nuts are having a field day. All the vacuum seal and bio-hazard alarms... none of them went off. The weapon escaped from every institution across the world at the exact same time."

"It wasn't released." Zott finally looked up, eyes bleak. "It got loose."

 

I like it. Seems really interesting, it's well written. I hope you continue this story, I really wan't to read some more..

 

That was really good, I hope you'll comtinue this, can't wait to see what happens next. I love stories about politics and such *black sedan pulls up outside house* oh crap!

 

*glompsez* TEH OMG!! Mara Jakan... *facepalm*

*hums*

They're coming to take me away, haha
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee hee, haha
To the funny farm
Where life is beautiful all the time
And I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats
And they're coming to take me away, HAHA!

 

AWESOME!!!!Awesome,Awesome,Awesome!!!This story is super, Awesome, Stupendous, Awesome, Magnificent, Awesome, Spectacular, Awesome, Fantastic, Awesome, and Fantastic!

Did I mention it was Awesome?

 

Nice one Jade. Very many details.
I think you should continue with this :)

 

Nicely done. I really like it so far; I do hope you continue this.

^_^

 

It was executed well enough. I don't particularly like looking at small pieces of a story. Anyways, I think it could be better I'm not sure what it is but there's something off.Whatevs I could be wrong.

 

It rocks.

Well structured and written ;D

 

Oh wow! I loved this storyline when it was a movie! SQWEE! This is going to be interesting! [gets popcorn] =3

 

Cool so far, I'd be SO freaked out if that happened to me!

I'd like to be in it! My name is Robyn, just so you know.

 

Awesome!!! I'm going to be in it...right? right? RIGHT? lol jkjk Love the story. I'm definately going to read it.

 

JADE YOU NAUGHTY PERSON!!!!

You spelt prologue wrong!!

 

=O
He's right!

Come now Jade, we expected better from you!
XP
~~~
Do you have date set for the next chapter?

:D

 

This is great, I put it on my Favourites and who cares if she spelled it wrong? I can bearly spell Proluge, it was probably a spelling mistake.

Did I spell it right?

 

No, you spellled it wrong. xD Oh well, I'm a pretty good speller and I hardly even know how to spell "Prologue". I spelled it right thst time, though!
xD I got off topic!

When will the next chapter be? I can't wait!

 

Wow. First off, I'd like to thank everyone for their support. There are some people in particular I want to respond to...

I hope you figure out what that something is so I can improve!

Movie? o.0 What movie are you thinking of?

I can try and put you in it... I've already made up most of the people, but perhaps I can give you one or two lines? (*tries to think of a way so that doesn't sound offensive*)

As a matter of fact, I did not spell it wrong. "Prolog" and "Prologue" are the same words. I've seen novels in which the us was left off of both "prolog" and "epilog", and I perfer the spelling "prolog" to "prologue". It's just personal choice. I do like the "epilogue" spelling in comparison to the "epilog" spelling, by the way.

As for the next chapter... today, if I stop getting distracted by this forum. xD

EDIT: Chapter Two posted

 

I learn something new everyday... =D

Okays... I apologize.

Oooo... stop being distracted please... I'm very excited for the new chapter as you can see.
X3

 

Onee-chan, I love it!!!!!!!!! I hope you'd put me in. If not, I'm fine with it!

 

Yes, Aerith; I plan to have you in it, don't worry. :)