Home Games All LiteraryClubs Events Forums Green Room Poetry Prose Roleplays

Eyes of the Empire Chap. 1

onceuponatim3xo · 2008-06-18T19:04:57Z

So, if you've read the prologue to Eyes of the Empire, you'll notice that I merged it in with chapter one. I hope you like it! :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I unsheathed my dagger, my hand shaking as it gripped the hilt. There was a lump in my throat that caused me to breathe heavily, but I tried to ignore it. I put my whetstone on a nearby table and set the dagger to it, stroking it back and forth to sharpen it. The steady scraping sound the blade created reverberated through my mind and I tried to block the sound out. It reminded me horribly of the task I would soon have to do. I mopped my forehead with the back of my hand and wiped the sweat on the side of my skirt. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew that I must. A nagging voice in the back of my head lectured me for what I was planning to do, It won’t work. You’re being stupid, everything will be better tomorrow. But it wouldn’t be better tomorrow. The Empire was in shambles and everyone blamed me. I had to do something. I just had to. Don’t do it. My conscience was making it hard for me, the last thing I needed. But no one else could do it for me - no one even knew what was going on. I examined my dagger one last time, touching its blade gently with my index finger. I gasped with pain as it nicked the soft skin and blood trickled down. It was sharp enough. I sheathed it and shoved it into my belt, desperately hoping for a miracle; one to save me from my destiny. A tear fell down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away, scolding myself. It made me feel weak and I couldn’t be weak at a time like this. There was one last thing I needed to see though. I needed to know how. How had this nightmare begun? I picked up the file and placed my trembling hand on top of it. My head jerked back causing my long curls to fall behind my shoulders. My eyes hazed over. I started to see the outline of a room, which soon grew sharper in detail. It was a cramped, off-white room that held a cheap plastic table, two chairs, a fluorescent light fixture which swayed slightly, and two men dressed in pea-green uniforms. I watched this scene as if it was projected onto the ceiling. “No!” one of the guards groaned. “Haha, yes.” The other guard slapped down his cards onto the table. “I win. You owe me, buddy. Looks like I'm coming home with a whole lotta credits tonight.” “What?! But, you cheated that other round-” the first guard exclaimed, but was cut off. “No I didn't,” the second guard said curtly. The first guard was about to protest, but was interrupted yet again as a woman came through the door, a folder in her perfectly manicured hands. “Johnson, you’re serving dinner to the prisoners, here’s the list.” She handed the winning guard the folder. Johnson’s exuberant face pulled into a frown at her words. “Ugh. Why can’t Gearson do it for once?” He pointed to the other guard. The woman was indifferent. “Just do your job, Johnson.” The noise from the light above grew louder than the usual buzz, then popped, sending sparks flying. “Stupid light,” Gearson muttered. The woman glanced up at it, then walked away. Johnson looked down at the folder in his hands and sighed. “I hate doing the food rounds.” He turned to Gearson, “you’re coming with me.” “No way,” Gearson said. "What if I said that last round could just be a practice round and you wouldn't have really lost all those credits." He tempted. "We can do a real round when we come back." Gearson huffed. “All right, fine.” In the kitchen, Johnson scooped up piles of mush onto trays with a ladle. He coughed at the smells of the mystery substances and held his nose with his free hand. Suddenly, he looked down at his chest, then at Gearson, and back down at his chest. "Did you steal my ID card?" He demanded. Gearson, who was holding a tray out for Johnson, looked bewildered. "What are you talking about? I've never touched it in my life." His was pinned to his uniform. "You're such a liar, I-" "No, no, no, I've never touched it. I swear on my life I did not steal your ID card." It was a bold thing to swear on your life and it was never taken lightly, so Johnson didn't say anymore, but stared into Gearson's face, probably hoping to find some hint of a lie. Finding none, he mumbled "all right, I believe you." Johnson went back to his work and after scooping the mush for a while, he said quietly - almost as if he were talking to himself, “I really hate my job.” Gearson looked shocked. “Why? It’s the best one around, we get to play cards all day and get paid. It’s not like the prisoners need much tending to.” “It’s too boring. Where’s the thrill? Where’s the action?” “Well…” The tension between them decreased after their conversation, it had almost acted as a peace offering from Johnson. I remembered Johnson, I’d met him on what was probably the worst day of my life. I never realized that he was a guard previously, he must’ve quit his job after all. After finishing the trays and placing them on a cart, they walked down the several hallways of the facility, serving food to the prison’s occupants. The delusional prisoners would cry out that they were framed. While the ones that knew they should be there would lounge on their cots and take no notice to the guards bringing their food. After serving most of the trays, Gearson asked “So, who’s next on the list?” Johnson glanced down at his open folder and replied through gritted teeth “Macnaire.” I flinched at the name but watched to see the rest. “Oh,” Gearson’s tone dropped and he seemed to be pushing the cart more slowly. "Let’s just get it over with.” Johnson said as he clenched his hands into fists. Gearson grunted in agreement. They turned a corner and walked through a long hallway with many doors. As they came to the cell, both of their jaws dropped. To the left of the door was a gaping hole in the wall. And it seemed that no one occupied the room anymore. “He’s escaped!” “Not again.” They cursed and dashed off, leaving the cart behind them. The alarm went off and the barks of dogs echoed through the hallways. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, hiding in a nearby corridor, Tanner Macnaire snickered. He searched the tangles of his long blond hair and smiled as his grubby fingers closed around something kept hidden and secure in his filthy locks. He grabbed it out and grinned. It was the guard’s ID card from earlier. He went over to the cart the guards had left and grabbed a tray of food. He tipped the tray upside down to let the food fall to the floor, but it didn’t seem to want to obey gravity, so he shook it a few times until it hit the cold, cement floor and formed into a big blob. Then he stuffed the tray under his arm and searched the bare walls until he found what he was looking for. He carefully observed the fire escape map that was tacked to the wall. Then, he ran through the halls - holding tightly to the ID card and tray as he yanked open a door and then raced up a flight of stairs. He tore through yet another hallway and finally wound up at his destination. He held up the card to a sensor near a large metal door. It beeped to show the door had unlocked and he threw the card to the side. The room that he now entered was full of buttons, whirring machines, and blinking lights. He ignored the "CAUTION: risk of electric shock" signs and quickly pushed all of the buttons and the lights and machines stopped. He grinned and pulled open the door, glanced at the fire escape map again and started running. Once he got to the exit door, he took in a deep breath. He stuffed the food tray into his shirt and pulled his waistband over it. Then he burst through the exit doors and, for the second time in two years, he was outside. It was a cool evening and his breath puffed ahead of him in small, visible clouds. The sun was just starting to set on the horizon. The dogs were a distance away from him, their noses in the grass looking for his scent. The last time Tanner had tried to escape, he was caught by the dogs and they left a scar on his side from their claws. He clutched the area just above his hip as he glanced back at the dogs. Later on he would use his scar story for pity from girls, including me. The dogs finally spotted him and bolted toward him, howling and barking. He darted to the electric fences nearby that blocked him off from civilization. He quickly snatched a twig from the ground and threw it at the first fence. There were three, two behind the first for maximum security. When it fell back down, he peered at it to see the results. No scorch marks. He had succeeded in turning off the power. He scrambled up the fence, looking over his shoulder a few times to see where the dogs were. They were closing in on him, but he was almost near the top, so when they jumped up to get him he was too high. The fence rattled from their weight and their jaws snapped at him as they growled viciously. One actually got his pantleg and he thrashed his leg around trying to free himself. He kicked it in the nose and it whimpered, shying away. Meanwhile, the guards were quite a length away from them - even though they were running. Now, he had to get over the barbed wire at the top without hurting himself. He grabbed the food tray from his shirt and situated it on top of the barbed wire. He slid over its protectant surface and somehow got onto the other side of the fence with minor scratches. He climbed back down the fence and when he was close enough he jumped to the ground. He turned and laughed edgily at the dogs who were now the ones trapped. But when he noticed that the guards were coming closer, he stuffed the tray back in his shirt and started to climb, repeating the process for the next two fences. Once past the fences, he ran into the neighboring woods and sprinted on and on until he was far enough away from Cardamson, then finally he stopped and sat by a fallen tree. He waited for his breathing to become less shallow and again, he laughed. His laughter increased by the minute until he was hysterical, a smile was plastered to his face. He was free. *~*~*~* I gasped for air when I was sent back to reality and breathed heavily while my eyesight started to focus. It felt like I'd held my breath for the entire time and my lungs were searing with the pain from a lack of oxygen. My sight was extremely fuzzy, but I could just make out the shapes around me - a table, several bookcases, a fireplace, and a door to the left of me. I was back. The side-effects of my visions were always difficult to handle. A lot of times I’d forget to breathe during the vision or I’d scream throughout it. Also, after every vision, my eyes would sting unbearably and I wouldn’t regain my sight until a short while after. Occasionally, I felt like this Gift was more of a nuisance than a blessing because every time, my eyes would burn with pain. But, usually I felt like it was a blessing, it had helped me many a time before and I was grateful for that. The pain was starting to go down and it let me focus on what really mattered. Tanner. I’d always wondered how he’d escaped and come to ruin my life. I brushed my hand against my dagger reassuringly. *** It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time that was simpler and not as horrible. It felt like so long ago, even though only a year had passed since then. It was one life-changing year. I didn’t have my visions back then, the Empire was going strong, and I was still naïve to the world’s cruelties. Nothing could wrong back then, but then, it did.

Amniel

Gender

Points 1090

Reviews 43

Wed Dec 24, 2008 11:17 pm

Amniel says... · Wed Dec 24, 2008 11:17 pm

Excellent work with chapter one

! It really keeps you waiting for more and the conscience speaking in the beginning is very David Eddings style, which of course is a good thing. And who told me to tell more of his character :?:

Nah, just kidding.

The pain was starting to go down

I think the sentence sounds weird. "Go down"?
Never heard of such a phrase. Try to change it to something else like "The pain was starting to ease" or something of the like.

I will come back for more, unless the mountain of books I received for Christmas block my way. All hail us, the writers who write from an I point of view

! Certainly a gold star coming here

Your reader and fellow writer, Amniel

If the road is easy, the destination is worthless.

Quote

Surround yourself with people who are serious about being writers, and who will tell you, ‘Hey—you can do better than this.’ Who will be critical of your work, but also supportive. And who will not be competitive in a negative way.
— Isabel Quintero

Eyes of the Empire Chap. 1

About / Info

Forums & RPG

Literary

Resources