◘◘ In the beginning, there was nothing. And then there was pain, death and war. Bright flashes of light ripped through the night like a razor, seeming to burn right into Jay's skull. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the ringing in her ears and the sound of her own breath rattling out of her dry throat. The gunshots were getting ever closer to her location, and she knew she had to move, or they would be upon her. She hated this. The running, the hiding, the kick-back of the gun as she ended some poor soul's life. In this endless battle, nobody even knew what they were fighting for any more. Some said it was for love, others said for hate. But in the endless gloom covering the Earth, love nor hate held any value. They were all just soldiers, pawns in this war. None had ever seen the men who ruled, and nobody here ever would.
Jay hoisted the gun further up into the crook of her arm, resting it against her shoulder. She was a good fighter, with true aim and a cunning mind. But even she had no hope of getting out of this unscathed. More gunshots, closer now. And then, out of the smoke and darkness, they appeared. Scope lights and lasers froze on her, and she stood frozen, a rabbit in headlights. There were more of them than she had thought, and they surrounded her in a cluster, trapping all escape. Part of Jay was trying to rationalise with the rest of her. If they wanted to kill her they would have done so already. But the majority of her was focused on one thing. The fear. It was all-consuming, chilling her to the bone, sharpening her gaze. Her head snapped round, her bright blue eyes wide as she looked for any means of escape. A lesson from Cadet Training flew into her mind...
"If you are captured and surrounded by the enemy, you should do what, Taylor?" Captain Chenskey barked out, his sharp gaze falling on a small, weedy teen at the front of the class.
"Surrender?" Michael Taylor offered up, literally shaking in his new Army Issue boots. Jay couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid. He was a genius at bombs and mechanics, but his foot-soldier skills left a lot to be desired. Jay was snapped out of her reverie by the Captain's harsh voice.
"Wrong. Martinez?" The imposing man yelled, his freezing glare landing on her. Slowly she cleared her throat and answered in a clear voice,
"Shoot to kill and run like hell,"...
Jay stifled a rueful chuckle at how useless that tip seemed now. She lowered her gun and dropped it into the sludge and mud at her feet, raising both arms. She laced her fingers together at the back of her head, assuming what was universally known as a surrender. One soldier lowered his gun to point at the ground, and then reached forwards and snatched her gun up away from her. She felt a sharp dig in her back and started to march forwards, head held high. Dignity was hard to keep in these situations, but despite having no feeling left in her fingers or toes, she kept it; despite feeling wholly numb.
Jay hoisted the gun further up into the crook of her arm, resting it against her shoulder. She was a good fighter, with true aim and a cunning mind. But even she had no hope of getting out of this unscathed. More gunshots, closer now. And then, out of the smoke and darkness, they appeared. Scope lights and lasers froze on her, and she stood frozen, a rabbit in headlights. There were more of them than she had thought, and they surrounded her in a cluster, trapping all escape. Part of Jay was trying to rationalise with the rest of her. If they wanted to kill her they would have done so already. But the majority of her was focused on one thing. The fear. It was all-consuming, chilling her to the bone, sharpening her gaze. Her head snapped round, her bright blue eyes wide as she looked for any means of escape. A lesson from Cadet Training flew into her mind...
"If you are captured and surrounded by the enemy, you should do what, Taylor?" Captain Chenskey barked out, his sharp gaze falling on a small, weedy teen at the front of the class.
"Surrender?" Michael Taylor offered up, literally shaking in his new Army Issue boots. Jay couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid. He was a genius at bombs and mechanics, but his foot-soldier skills left a lot to be desired. Jay was snapped out of her reverie by the Captain's harsh voice.
"Wrong. Martinez?" The imposing man yelled, his freezing glare landing on her. Slowly she cleared her throat and answered in a clear voice,
"Shoot to kill and run like hell,"...
Jay stifled a rueful chuckle at how useless that tip seemed now. She lowered her gun and dropped it into the sludge and mud at her feet, raising both arms. She laced her fingers together at the back of her head, assuming what was universally known as a surrender. One soldier lowered his gun to point at the ground, and then reached forwards and snatched her gun up away from her. She felt a sharp dig in her back and started to march forwards, head held high. Dignity was hard to keep in these situations, but despite having no feeling left in her fingers or toes, she kept it; despite feeling wholly numb.
◘◘ Rough brick scratched at Jay's back, digging in through the material of her black tank top. She shifted position; but to no avail. Wherever she sat there was discomfort. She passed the time for a short while musing about the wonderful design of the cells. They were the perfect idea of hell on what was left of Earth. There was one high, barred window that let the smog and freezing air in, raising goosebumps along Jay's arms. She shivered lightly, pressing further back against the cold, slimy wall. Footsteps echoed through the heavy steel door that barred her way to freedom, and she stood. The steel handcuffs chafed against her wrists, holding them painfully twisted behind her.
Through the door came a figure, his face steeped in thick shadows. Ha, thought Jay What's new? Everything's in shadow these days... she couldn't stop the chuckle that burst past her tightly clamped lips. The figure's head tilted to the side.
"What's so funny?" the voice that emerged was smooth and silky as melted chocolate, it's tone seeming like a velvet caress on her ears. A light shiver ran down Jay's spine. She didn't like the seductive sound; it was the sound of veiled evil. Jay let her upper lip curl into a smirk.
"I'm just laughing at the irony of this life." she explained cryptically in a flat, bored tone. She had learned that in life, showing any emotion never got you anywhere unless you were addressing close family. The man turned, beckoning with one gloved hand for her to follow, and marched out of the door. Jay raised one eyebrow at the gesture. Dismissive or what?, she thought with a chuckle as she followed him out of the door. She felt venerable and naked without any means of defending herself - they had taken all of those as soon as she had arrived. Turning her attention back to the man in front of her, she studied his profile, trying to work out what rank he was in. Not a Rook like some of the guards they passed, no, he seemed to be a higher position than defence. Not a Pawn like herself - he held himself with far too much bearing than that. He didn't look like a holy man, so not a Bishop. That only left Kings, Queens, and Knights. Kings and Queens were the leaders of this war, and they were never seen, so she guessed he was a Knight.
They walked along many long, twisting tunnels, and it became clear to Jay that the majority of this base was, like her own, built underground. It was a spooky thought to think that these tunnels could go on for miles underground, twisting, turning. It would be only too easy to get lost in amongst the myriad of tunnel network. Another detail that became apparent was the state the Base was in. Whereas the rock near where she had been kept prisoner was filthy, slimy and overall plain disgusting, it was getting steadily cleaner as they moved through the tunnel network. After what seemed like hours of trudging through the dimly-lit spaces, Jay's feet were blistered and aching, and her fingers and toes felt ready to drop off at any second. She had been keeping her jaw clamped to stop her teeth chattering, but that had left her with an unfortunate cramping sensation that was both painful and irritating.
After about half an hour, they came to a set of heavy wooden doors, guarded by two huge Rooks. They wore helmets with what looked like Ram's horns, and long flowing capes. They reminded Jay of Medieval Knights, just minus the chain mail. They each carried heavy broadswords with a blade Jay would not like to feel against her skin. Thankfully, the guards made no objections and stood aside to let Jay and her escort pass with no further comment.
Through the door came a figure, his face steeped in thick shadows. Ha, thought Jay What's new? Everything's in shadow these days... she couldn't stop the chuckle that burst past her tightly clamped lips. The figure's head tilted to the side.
"What's so funny?" the voice that emerged was smooth and silky as melted chocolate, it's tone seeming like a velvet caress on her ears. A light shiver ran down Jay's spine. She didn't like the seductive sound; it was the sound of veiled evil. Jay let her upper lip curl into a smirk.
"I'm just laughing at the irony of this life." she explained cryptically in a flat, bored tone. She had learned that in life, showing any emotion never got you anywhere unless you were addressing close family. The man turned, beckoning with one gloved hand for her to follow, and marched out of the door. Jay raised one eyebrow at the gesture. Dismissive or what?, she thought with a chuckle as she followed him out of the door. She felt venerable and naked without any means of defending herself - they had taken all of those as soon as she had arrived. Turning her attention back to the man in front of her, she studied his profile, trying to work out what rank he was in. Not a Rook like some of the guards they passed, no, he seemed to be a higher position than defence. Not a Pawn like herself - he held himself with far too much bearing than that. He didn't look like a holy man, so not a Bishop. That only left Kings, Queens, and Knights. Kings and Queens were the leaders of this war, and they were never seen, so she guessed he was a Knight.
They walked along many long, twisting tunnels, and it became clear to Jay that the majority of this base was, like her own, built underground. It was a spooky thought to think that these tunnels could go on for miles underground, twisting, turning. It would be only too easy to get lost in amongst the myriad of tunnel network. Another detail that became apparent was the state the Base was in. Whereas the rock near where she had been kept prisoner was filthy, slimy and overall plain disgusting, it was getting steadily cleaner as they moved through the tunnel network. After what seemed like hours of trudging through the dimly-lit spaces, Jay's feet were blistered and aching, and her fingers and toes felt ready to drop off at any second. She had been keeping her jaw clamped to stop her teeth chattering, but that had left her with an unfortunate cramping sensation that was both painful and irritating.
After about half an hour, they came to a set of heavy wooden doors, guarded by two huge Rooks. They wore helmets with what looked like Ram's horns, and long flowing capes. They reminded Jay of Medieval Knights, just minus the chain mail. They each carried heavy broadswords with a blade Jay would not like to feel against her skin. Thankfully, the guards made no objections and stood aside to let Jay and her escort pass with no further comment.