《Out of the Shadows (Dystopian)》


 Prologue

    "Wow!" I gasped, my eyes widening as the ground seemed to shrink beneath us. The Ferris Wheel hoisted our chairs higher and higher, sending exhilarating gusts of cold air through the top of the passenger cars. I couldn''t help but laugh, my hands pressed against the protective glass that separated us from the dizzying hundred-foot drop.Was this what it felt like to be a bird, soaring above the world?


    "I like Six Flags," Grace giggled. Her little brown curls bounced up and down as she kicked her legs back and forth on the comfortable seat. She held Mother''s hand while sucking on one of the small lollipops that had been used to bribe her into good behavior.


    I inhaled slowly as the air brushed my hair out of my face and sighed at the wind''s cold touch, which was refreshing against the flaming hot Los Angeles sun. The small golden watch on my wrist sparkled under the sun, reflecting a beam of light onto the seat of the Ferris wheel cart.


    I glanced back at my Father and pointedly looked down at the watch. He nodded with a smile. He was well aware of how proud I was of my watch. I had worn it almost everywhere for a few years now. It had been a gift from him.


    "I do too," Mother chimed in, her voice warm and smooth as she poked Grace playfully. She was a comforting presence in the midst of the bustling amusement park.


    "Stop it!" Grace squealed and squirmed away from her, putting me between Mother and herself. I narrowed my eyes at her as she obscured the beautiful view.


    Grace''s rosy cheeks were smeared with sticky blue goo from the lollipop, and her hair was messily pulled back with a small pink hair band that she had insisted on putting on herself today. I cocked my head and frowned. My old view was better.


    "Sit down, honey." My Father scooped Grace up and lightly sat her on his lap, resting his chin on her head with a chuckle.


    "I didn''t know we could go up so high," I marveled, ignoring them. I pressed my face against the glass and watched as it fogged up, obscuring the scenery below.How could they be so distracted when they could see how amazing the world looked here? We were so high up!


    "But you''ve been on an airplane before," Grace pointed out, leaning comfortably back onto our Father''s chest.


    "It''s nothing like this," I whispered as I watched the masses of people scurry like ants through the amusement park. Long lines ran from each ride, the hubbub of the idle chatting crowds so loud that it penetrated through the glass hundreds of feet in the air. Kids ran through the crowd, clutching a variety of sweets and other unhealthy foods. They squealed in excitement as their mothers and fathers raced through the crowd in a vain attempt to catch them. Wonderful music blasted faintly from below, reminding me of the one time we had gone to the circus. I shivered.Clowns, I hated clowns.


    "Looks like the ride''s almost over," Mother observed as she craned her neck to see out of the window. A strand of brown hair fell in front of her eyes and my Father tucked it behind her ear with a warm smile.


    Reluctantly, I turned my attention back to the ground, only to find it looming closer, the once-fuzzy scenery now coming into sharp focus. "No!" I protested.


    Mom leaned forward. "We can have snow cones once we get back to the ground," she whispered this conspiratorially as if it were a secret between the two of us.


    I perked up and caught sight of the large, pink snow cone shop. I imagined the cold ice melting into my mouth. "Really?"


    She leaned forward and stuck out her lip in a fake pout. "But only if you sit by me before the ride ends."


    That was good enough for me. I plopped down next to her as the ride slowly descended and eventually came to a complete stop. "Don''t get too far ahead of us," Mother murmured, squeezing my hand.


    "Hmm," I mumbled but didn''t nod. I had no intention of waiting for them; my parents were slow. As soon as the door creaked open, I bolted out. I ran past a man in uniform until a huge crowd stood before me, like a wall between me and the little pink shop.


    "Snow cones!" A voice yelled excitedly from behind me. I spun to see Grace on my heels, an equally silly smile on her face. I grinned, grabbed Grace''s hand, and pushed my way into the crowd, pulling her behind me as we weaved through the towers of tall people.


    "There!" Grace pointed to the left, a pink pole with a flag sticking out of the crowd.Arctic Treatsreads in bubbled pink and blue letters.


    I changed direction towards the pole and pushed past another group of people before we broke through the largest group and stared up at the cute little pink shop. A woman stood behind the counter with a snow cone and joy plastered across her features. Grace''s eyes grew even more expansive in excitement as she made eye contact with me. We stepped forward.


    "Wait up, girls!" My Father broke through the crowd''s edge and gave us a crooked grin as he passed us.


    "No fair!" I protested although I wasn''t mad. "You have longer legs."


    "Yes, I do." He circled around and reunited with Mother as she jogged with an amused smile after our procession.


    She raised an eyebrow at me, "Since you''re in such a rush, I''ll get the snow cones while you find a spot to sit. It is crowded!" She knelt down to eye level, "What flavor do you want?"


    "Watermelon, please." I beamed at her.


    "I want a watermelon too!" Grace squeaked.


    "Do you want any?" Mother looked up at my Father, who still had a childish grin.


    "How about a watermelon?"


    "This family sure loves watermelon snow cones." Mother laughed before standing up and disappearing into the crowd.


    "I love you, Dad," I laughed, hugging him tightly. I smiled so wide that my eyes squinted and obscured my vision. I imagined the soothing cold watermelon flavor flowing down my throat.


    "You''re just saying that because I bought you a snow cone." He knelt down and scooped me into a giant bear hug. I cringed away from him as an unfamiliar whiff of metal and smoke washed over me. He worked as a doctor, which usually left a slight tang of hand sanitizer on all his clothes, but today, an unfamiliar smell clung to his shirt.


    I wheezed as his tight embrace took away my breath.


    "I love you too." Grace peeped as she wrapped her arms around his leg. He set me down and wrapped his other arm around her.


    "Snow cones!" Grace quickly detached from his hug as the watermelon snow cones were revealed through the crowd. Mother''s colossal smile was brighter than the smelting sun above us.


    "Watermelon for everyone!" She announced. Mother bent down, gave me the first cone, and turned to give the second one to Grace.


    I balanced the snow cone precariously and licked the top ice off.


    My Father hugged my Mother as she gave him his snow cone. "You are the best woman in the whole wide world."


    "I know." She laughed and licked the top of his snow cone.


    "Hey!"


    "I bought it," She fired back. A huge smile was on her face as my Father kissed her on the cheek and relinquished the snow cone.


    We sat on one of the sticky, blue benches, contentedly licking our snow cones. The hot sun caused the ice to drip down over the cone and onto our fingers quickly. My mind started to wander back to the Ferris Wheel. It was so beautiful. I glanced around the park and swiveled my neck, trying to see the different colored shops we''d spotted from so high up.


    "Oh no, Grace."


    I looked over curiously as my Mother fished inside her purse and pulled out a napkin. She licked it to get the sticky red watermelon juice off Grace''s face.


    "I''m going to go clean Grace up." She sighed and stared at the sticky stream of juice slowly descending from the front of Grace''s shirt. Mother pulled Grace away from us, ignoring her complaints. She hauled her off into the crowd, and they disappeared into the mass of people.


    I sat contentedly slumped against the bench as I carefully licked up ice. I shivered with joy as the watermelon flavor ran down my throat. "How can something taste this good?" I murmured, closing my eyes.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    My Father laughed as he licked it. "It''s not as good as our kind in Portland."


    "We getshave ice in Portland. This is asnow cone. They''re different." I said this as a matter of fact.


    I stared down at my snow cone and watched in fascination as it melted. The roasting sun made the ice gather into a red pool of flavor at the bottom. I wiped some of the juice that had gotten on my fingers onto the already sticky bench and squinted as an odd shadow slowly crept across the bench toward me. I looked up.


    "Dad, look!" I pointed up at the sky. Clouds were slowly snaking their way across the sun, almost unnaturally fast.


    My Father stared at the sky. As soon as he saw the shadows, his eyes grew wide. "Lexy, we need to-"


    "Hey!" I jumped as a voice erupted from the steady murmur of the people waiting before each ride. "Everyone, get on the ground!"


    I searched for the person who had spoken. The crowd cleared a space around a man with his head held high and a sneer plastered across his face. I could barely see him through the crowd of people.


    "Is this a part of Six Flags?" I asked nervously. I scooted closer to my Father. I didn''t like the way the sky had gotten dark so fast.


    "No, sweetie, I don''t think it is." He stood up in front of me. Father''s usual smile vanished, his eyes darting around in fear. He tightened his grip on my hand, his knuckles white. My Father was brave; he wasn''t afraid of anything. Yet, somehow, he seemed scared of whatever was happening right now.


    The mysterious man with the booming voice stepped forward and raised his hands. A person rose from the crowd. I stared at the tiny woman that hung from the long black tendril. Her body dangled without moving, and her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle.What was wrong with her?


    "Dad?" I whispered. I couldn''t stop staring wide-eyed at the man¨C If it really was a man. His eyes had darkened into two different abysses, four black tendrils snaked out of all four limbs, and as he opened his mouth to speak again, a dark steam started to rise out of it. A cloak of darkness wrapped around him as he lifted his arms. His human figure was swallowed. He looked like a villain from one of my storybooks.


    None of it seemed natural. The crowd stayed silent, shocked and amazed.Was this part of the theme park? A new elaborate show?


    Time seemed to slow as the shadows reached into the sky. The woman''s dangling figure was swallowed by the growing darkness around the man, almost forgotten as the shadows stretched into intricate shapes above. A booming shout echoed from the blackness, so loud that I covered my ears and shrank away. As the sound faded, all of the shadows stiffened, and then, like a synchronized execution, they snapped in every direction toward the scrambling crowd.


    As if the crowd was one unit, it uttered an ear-shattering scream and shattered like glass, pieces breaking off in every direction. People ran over each other and shoved each other down to get away from the man first.


    One of the tendrils grabbed a nearby woman by the ankles. She bolted with a surprised shout, only to be stopped abruptly as the shadows tightened. Much like a string being pulled taut. I leaned forward; somebody had to help her, but I felt my Father''s hand tighten in my grasp.


    Screams seemed to merge into one shriek as the shadows sought new victims. The woman before me looked around desperately at the shadows, clutching her ankle.


    "Somebody he-" Her cry was cut off as she was lifted. The shadow swung them high in the air, letting go as she was flung so high her height surpassed one of the ride''s neon signs.


    I tried to scream, but no noise came out. She was going to hit the ground. She was going to die. This woman would be killed right in front of me. I wanted to close my eyes, tuck myself into the crook of my Father''s arm, and pretend like nothing was happening. I wanted to go home.


    But I couldn''t look away as she shrieked and fell 30 feet, 20 feet, and then 10 feet. Her arms flapped helplessly as if she could slow her descent.


    "Dad?" My voice was no more than a whisper. The tendril caught the woman just as she was about to hit the ground, and in one harsh movement, it tugged her into the darkness. The blackness engulfed her screams, swallowing them completely. I could feel my Father pulling on my wrist.


    My hands started to shake as I looked toward the dark sky. The silhouettes of bodies in the air, lit eerily by the theme park''s neon colors, littered the sky like stars. Everywhere around me, people were dying. Their shrieks echoed in my ears, and I couldn''t seem to move.


    "Dad?" My voice broke.


    "Lexy." He only said my name, not what to do, not that it would be alright. He didn''t explain what was happening or tell me this was an elaborate joke. All he said was my name, and he said it with so much grief that it shook me to my core. We were not alright. This was real, and we might die.


    My heart thumped loudly in my chest, and my lips trembled. Mom and Grace were nowhere to be found. They might already be dead, too.


    I hadn''t realized that my Father was pulling me out of the seat. His fingers were wrapped around my wrist. He was telling me something. I looked up at him with a trembling lip, scrunched brow, and tear-glazed eyes.


    Hurry.


    He was saying that we needed to hurry. I nodded shakily. Too shocked to say anything, I let myself be pulled forward into a run. His grip was so tight in my hand that it hurt.


    Blood pumped in my ears and drowned out the screams as I ran faster and faster. I didn''t know if the screams belonged to others or were mine. We passed the snow cone shop, then the Ferris Wheel.


    "We need to g-" His shout was cut off abruptly. His warm hand tore from my grasp as we were yanked backward, tumbling along the ground. I tasted blood in my mouth.


    "Daddy!" I screamed; in a daze, I stumbled to my feet. A shadow had yanked Father backward and had pulled me with him. It was pulling him back by the ankle towards the slowly growing abyss of shadows that surrounded the horrifying monster.


    Blood started to drip down from his eyebrow into his eye. He must have hit his head when we were pulled backward.


    Tendrils of darkness continued to drag people into it. Their screams were cut off as they disappeared into the shadows. No longer were the shadows throwing people into the air, like some sick game. The shadows seemed hungry now. Lethal dark whips snagged people and dragged them into the abyss. It was as if the darkness itself was swallowing them.


    "Lexy, run!" My Father shouted. He clutched his leg, which had tiny black tendrils slowly slithering up it.


    What was happening?


    I couldn''t seem to breathe; my chest was so tight it hurt, and my heart was beating too fast. I couldn''t think. I couldn''t move. All I could do was shake helplessly and listen to the screams. The crowds around me were thinning as more and more people got dragged into the shadows or ran away. No bodies were lying around. The darkness had consumed all of its victims.


    "Lexy!" The fear in his voice drew my eyes back to his. He was being dragged towards the shadow monster. He needed me.


    I stumbled through the stampede of frantic people and to his side. I collapsed beside him, my hands still shaking as my mind spun. Shadows continued to consume his legs. In a daze, I tried to get the shadows off of him, but my hands simply fell through them, and my fingernails only found the skin on my Father''s leg.


    Warm tears ran down my face.Where was Mom? Where was Grace? What was happening?I was hiccupping and couldn''t stop the tears running down my cheeks.


    Desperate people ran in every direction, running each other over to get away from the deadly shadows. I screamed over the shrieks. "Help!"


    Nobody listened.


    "Leave me!" Father grabbed my arm, and I froze. His eyes were so large, so scared, so sorrowful. Blood continued to drip down his face from his eyebrow. Fear clenched my heart so hard that I let out a gasp.


    "This isn''t real." I sobbed as desperation started to replace my fear. He was slowly being dragged towards the monster. It was going to kill him. I tried more frantically to claw the shadows of my Father. The shadows felt cold as my hands fell through them like mist.They wouldn''t budge!


    "Run! I''ll catch up as soon as I can." Father pleaded, once again pushing my hands away. He was kicking at the shadows and trying to scramble out of it. He tried to hit them, to do anything to disrupt them, but nothing was working. They started crawling up his torso.


    "I''m not going to leave you." I whimpered and tried again to peel the cold shadows off of him. They had to let go. My Father had to come with me.


    "You have to." He looked into my eyes with a small, reassuring smile. "I''ll be okay. Go!"


    I screamed as I felt something snake around my ankle and tug me harshly toward the ground. My world spun as the side of my head met the concrete. The sickening crunch sent stars across my vision.


    "No!" My Father''s roar pierced through the throbbing headache as I tried to squirm away from the shadows. I screamed as I felt it tug my leg again, yanking me away from my Father.


    The shadows snaked further up him, and a tentacle of shadows started to slither its way around his neck.


    "I''m going to free you, and you need to run!" My Father shouted to me. He was fishing for something out of his pocket when he gave another hoarse cry. The dark tendril yanked him farther away from me.


    "I can''t leave you!" My whole body shook as tears of fear streamed down my cheeks.


    "Find Mother and Grace and run. Protect them. Don''t let the shadows catch you!"


    I shook my head as another whimper escaped my lips, and my bottom lip trembled uncontrollably. He smiled sadly at me. "I love you so much. You''re stronger than you know. Never forget that."


    The shadow clamped around my knee. They snaked their way up my leg as if it were consuming me. My heart clenched with fear. I didn''t want to die.


    I closed my eyes tightly and tried to erase this nightmare as I was lifted off the ground. I hung there, an eerie cold surrounding me.


    I forced my eyes open. I didn''t want to die in the dark.


    I stared into large, inhumanly red eyes; terror stopped my heart in its place. It was like staring into hell itself. The sight sent a shiver up my spine and made me cry out from the pure horror surrounding me. Bodies hung next to me, each one dangling with their necks snapped. Their empty eyes and crooked composures were the only indications that they were dead.


    The shadows seemed to stalk around me, darting closer and backing off as if playing with their prey. I screamed as I felt the shadow creep around my neck and tighten. I was going to die.


    "Go!" My Father shouted from somewhere. A long, sharp ringing buzzed through the air.


    The darkness bellowed and revealed the murderous man within the shadows. The man had short ginger hair and glowing red eyes. He looked so normal, so weakly human. I barely saw him before a cloak of darkness once again enveloped him. The shadows holding me disappeared. I crashed to the ground and screamed as a sharp sensation tore through my leg. I had fallen on the edge of something. Sticky blood started immediately trickling down it.


    "Run!" My dad shouted as tendrils snaked towards me again, quicker and fiercer. It was murderous.


    I scrambled away from the shadows and cried out as I put pressure on my bloody leg. I didn''t dare look down at it as I took one last desperate glance at my fighting Father. I couldn''t leave him.


    He was trying to shout something to me, and his face was screwed up in pain. I couldn''t hear him over the crowd screaming as they tried to escape the darkness. I stared at his lips and tried desperately to read what they were saying.


    He wanted me to run. He was screaming at me to run. My legs felt like they had turned to stone, and my head throbbed terribly. I couldn''t leave him.


    Run. The shadows crept towards me again, and I felt warm tears streaming down my face. I wasn''t brave like my Father.


    I didn''t want to die.


    A cry escaped my lips as I turned and ran away from the horrible scene and my Father as fast as possible. I tore around the corner. I looked back seconds before I saw the wall of darkness rise around my Father''s figure.


    "Daddy!" I shrieked, and my voice broke horribly.I was a coward.


    Coward, the words repeated in my head repeatedly as I cried into my hands. My breath was ragged, and my heartbeat uncontrollably fast.I wasn''t strong, I wasn''t brave, I was a coward.I ran away as fast as I could.

 Chapter 1: Five Long Years

    Note: This first chapter takes place five years after the prologue ends.


    The city was too quiet. My leg throbbed as I crouched in the shadow of a crumbling wall, gripping the satchel tightly against my chest. A scream echoed faintly in the distance, but it was the silence afterward that made my stomach tighten.


    I rubbed my thumb over the fractured glass of the watch on my wrist. My father''s watch. The only thing I had left of him. It didn''t tick anymore, but that didn''t matter. Time had stopped five years ago anyway, the day the Legacies came.


    I hadn''t felt safe since. His deep voice and the way his arms wrapped around me¡ªthose were memories I clung to like a lifeline, even as they cut deeper every year. The questions gnawed at me constantly. How had he saved me that day? Could I have saved him? The answers, like him, were lost.


    The watch''s once-polished surface was deliberately dirtied, its shine dulled to avoid drawing attention. Anything valuable was a liability in Beggar''s End. The city fed on weakness and greed, and it had devoured better people than me.


    I shook the memories away and steadied my breath, pressing my back against the cracked stone wall. The cool wind tugged at my jagged, uneven hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My eyes, sharp from years of navigating the dark, scanned the shattered cityscape below. The ruins stretched endlessly, a jagged sea of black and gray illuminated only by the pale moonlight. Broken glass scattered across the streets glinted faintly like fractured stars.


    Beautiful destruction. Like something from a nightmare.


    My destination was a few blocks away, marked by a skinny tower that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. It was the halfway point. Once I reached it, I''d be closer to finishing this job and going home.


    Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the wall. My leg protested, sharp pain shooting up as I limped toward the edge of the building. The satchel hanging at my waist felt heavier with every step. My calloused hands gripped the ledges as I descended, the rough stone biting into my skin but never breaking it.


    Landmarks guided me: a collapsed storefront, a fallen flagpole, and a crooked building shaped like a leaning box. These were familiar markers in a city that never stayed the same for long. The Enforcement''s relentless push to shrink the city''s perimeter meant entire blocks vanished regularly, swallowed by destruction or cordoned off for the foreseeable future.


    As I moved, a faint scent of smoke caught my nose, and my stomach twisted. A thin plume of smog rose a block away, silhouetted against the full moon. I froze, narrowing my eyes.


    Idiot.


    Smoke was a beacon in Beggar''s End¡ªan invitation for death. Either someone was desperate enough to risk it or had given up entirely.


    I cupped my hands around my ears, listening intently. The sound came soon after: the faint clink of boots. Five men moved through an alley adjacent to the fire. My stomach dropped as the scene unfolded in my mind.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The small woman by the fire had made a fatal mistake. Her ruined night vision rendered her blind to the predators closing in. They moved like shadows, silent and swift. When she turned toward the sound, it was already too late. A scream shattered the quiet, sharp and raw. Then silence.


    In my mind''s eye, I saw her neck snap. They would take what little she had, stomp out the fire, and disappear into the night. If they didn''t eat her, the animals would. Beggar''s End thrived on death. Survival wasn''t about morals; it was about what you were willing to do to stay alive.


    I clenched my jaw and kept moving. Standing still in Beggar''s End was an invitation to join the dead.


    The journey blurred into a haze of pain and caution. Every step sent jolts through my injured leg, but I ignored it, climbing over broken stone and slipping through the shadows. After what felt like hours, I reached the base of the skinny tower. Its spire loomed above me, a jagged silhouette against the stars.


    My muscles screamed as I scaled another wall and perched on a crumbling ledge three stories up. The air was colder here, biting through my tattered jacket. From this vantage, I could see Figueroa Street¡ªa place where screams and gunshots were as common as breathing. Even at my strongest, it wasn''t a place to linger.


    I descended cautiously, every movement calculated. Twenty feet, ten, five, then finally, my feet hit the ground. I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle a cry as pain flared in my leg. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away quickly. Weakness had no place here.


    Navigating the alleys near Figueroa, I stepped on a crumpled piece of paper. My heart jumped as I scanned the alley for movement, then crouched to inspect it. A poster, its edges torn and colors faded, read: "Join the fight against the Legacies!"


    I crumpled it in my fist. Legacies weren''t saviors. They were monsters. No human could kill without guilt. No human would murder millions without hesitation.


    My father''s face flashed in my mind¡ªhis final moments, stolen by a Legacy who didn''t even glance back.


    I shoved the paper into the overflowing trash and pressed forward. Anger burned through me, sharp and familiar. It was better than grief. Anger kept me moving. Grief would kill me.


    Finally, I reached my destination: a nondescript door tucked into the shadows of an alley. Rats scurried nearby, their squeaks echoing faintly. I knocked quietly, the sound muffled by the oppressive stillness.


    A panel slid open, revealing a pair of wary eyes. "What do you want?" the man hissed.


    "Trigger sent me," I said, pulling the package from my satchel. I held it up cautiously, ensuring he could see it. The man''s eyes darted between me and the box, suspicion etched across his face.


    "Are you armed?" he asked.


    "No." The lie came easily.


    "Come in. Hands where I can see them."


    I stepped inside, the door creaking shut behind me. The room reeked of liquor and decay, its sparse furniture barely holding together. The man, disheveled and twitchy, leveled a gun at me as he gestured toward the package.


    "Proof you''re with Trigger?" he demanded.


    Slowly, I reached for my ID, and the sound of the gun''s hammer clicking sent a chill down my spine. "I''m Skye Ford," I said evenly, handing over the tattered card. <i>Another lie. </i>My name was the only thing that was <i>mine.</i>


    He squinted at it, then back at me, his skepticism turning to surprise. I didn''t flinch under his gaze, though my hand hovered near the knife strapped to my thigh.


    After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the package greedily. "Tell Trigger I''ll get him the money soon."


    "He doesn''t like to wait," I warned, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my chest.


    The man''s eyes flickered with fear before he slammed the door in my face. I exhaled shakily and slipped back into the shadows.


    Another delivery done. Another gun pointed at my face. Another step closer to survival.


    But as I limped away, a chill crept up my spine. Something was wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I scanned the darkness. Then I heard it¡ªthe faint scuff of footsteps behind me.


    I wasn''t alone.

 Chapter 2: Survive

    I scrambled to my feet and bolted in the opposite direction.


    "Stop, or I''ll shoot!"


    The fear of death never got easier. It just became familiar.


    Adrenaline surged through me, numbing the pain in my leg. My mind sharpened, instincts taking full control as I wove like a shadow through the ruins. Collapsed houses blurred past. My attackers stayed on the road, their footsteps like thunder on the cracked pavement.


    Faster.


    I forced my legs to move, even as agony lanced up my thigh with each step. The pain was distant now. It had to be. I twisted into a narrow alley, knocking over garbage cans behind me. The metallic clatter split the silence, but I didn''t stop. Couldn''t.


    A building loomed ahead. No time to think. Knife clenched between my teeth, I leapt, clawing my way up the jagged wall. My fingers scraped against rough stone. The worn soles of my shoes struggled for grip as I hauled myself upward.


    Pain roared back, sharp as the rusty nails jutting from the half-collapsed floor when I reached the second level. I dropped onto the wooden planks, pressing myself flat. The boards groaned under my weight. I clenched my jaw, biting back a sob as fire spread through my leg.


    Breathe.


    My heart pounded against my ribs. Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out everything else¡ªuntil a voice cut through the darkness below.


    "Where is she?" Gruff. Heavyset. Two hundred pounds. Broad shoulders.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "I don''t know! She just disappeared!" The second voice was thinner, reedy. One-fifty. Small frame. Weak arms.


    "A girl doesn''t just vanish. Keep searching. Remember¡ªboss wants them alive."


    They were getting closer. My lip trembled as I pressed deeper into the shadows. I wouldn''t be found. I had fought, scavenged, stolen, killed. I wouldn''t die here. Not like this. Not another forgotten body rotting in the streets.


    I let the knife slip from my teeth. It rolled to the floor with a quiet clink. Too loud.


    I held my breath.


    "Come out now," the smaller man taunted, voice sickly sweet. "We won''t hurt you."


    Lies. All of them liars. Just like everyone else in this wretched city.


    The heat of my hate kept me steady. But my hands still trembled, and my heart still pounded. I was afraid. No¡ªI was a coward.


    Then I saw her.


    A shadow on the rooftop across from me. Small. Huddled in the corner, hair outlined in silver against the moonlight.


    No.


    I didn''t think. I didn''t hesitate. My hand closed around a chunk of rubble beside me, and with everything I had left, I hurled it. The stone hit the roof with a sharp crack, echoing through the alley. The girl''s head shot up, startled.


    "There she is! On the roof!"


    The girl sprang to her feet and bolted for the edge. My chest clenched with hope. She was fast. She could make it¡ª


    But hope was for fools.


    The heavy man moved faster than I expected, lunging onto the roof before she cleared the gap. His hand clamped around her ankle, and she fell hard, face slamming into the ledge with a sickening crack.


    Her scream tore through the night.


    "No¡ªno, please! Please¡ª"


    The plea shattered, cut off as the two men dragged her back into the shadows. The heavyset one chuckled darkly, his companion joining in.


    I didn''t know what their boss wanted with her. I wouldn''t let myself guess. But whatever horror awaited her, she would be grateful for that broken nose. It would make her less of a target.


    I stayed there, trembling, as the echoes of her screams faded. My body felt heavy, too heavy, my breath shallow. Another life, traded for mine. Another stain on my soul.


    But I had done what I had to do.


    Survive.


    I blinked away the tears trailing down my cheeks, even as the weight of my guilt pressed harder on my chest. I couldn''t collapse now. Not yet. Grace and Mother were waiting. I would keep moving. Keep fighting.


    Because if I stopped¡ªif I let this city take me¡ª


    It would take them too.

 Chapter 3: Pills

    I tried to drag myself to my feet but collapsed as pain seared through my leg. The wooden floor groaned under me as I barely caught myself before crashing down. My limbs felt like dead weights, every inch aching and sore.


    Grimacing, I braced against the broken wall, forcing myself upright enough to inspect my injury. The shredded pant leg clung to the wound, damp with sweat and blood. The long, pale scar beneath throbbed with every heartbeat. The Reckoning hadn''t just broken my heart. It had shattered my body too.


    Six deliveries a week instead of five. More miles. More pain. It wasn''t healing. It was getting worse.


    Breathing hard, I rummaged through my satchel, hands trembling. Relief washed over me when I felt the smooth edge of the pill bottle. Thank God nothing had fallen out during the chase. I pulled it free, ignoring the whisper of doubt gnawing at my mind.


    <i>One pill a week. That was the deal.</i>


    But the pain was unbearable. My fingers curled around a single capsule. I dry-swallowed it, wincing as it scraped my throat.


    <i>One a day. That''s what it had become.</i>The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to take another. The craving burned beneath my skin, but I wouldn''t break. Not yet.


    The pain didn''t ease right away. It consumed me, pressing sharp and relentless into my skin. I curled into myself, arms wrapping around my stomach, eyes shut tight. If Mother and Grace weren''t waiting for me at home¡ª


    No. I couldn''t think like that. I stayed because they needed me. I stayed because I loved them.


    Minutes crawled by, each breath a battle, until finally¡ªfinally¡ªthe drug hit. The pain dulled, fading into a numb haze. My leg felt distant, disconnected from the rest of me as the trembling in my hands eased.


    I exhaled shakily. But the numbness was dangerous. Weakness meant death. And I had a job to finish.


    Moving with deliberate care, I descended the ruined building. The drug made my head foggy, slowing my steps. I reoriented myself under the pale moonlight, tracing the skyline for landmarks¡ªthe crooked lamppost, the fallen statue, the building with the shattered clockface. Almost home. Just a few more blocks.


    The alley loomed ahead, a dark slit between broken buildings. I raised my hands above my head as I stepped into the dim light. The satchel hung heavily at my side, the knife visible in my right hand, its blade dull from overuse.


    A massive silhouette shifted ahead, blocking the way. The lantern he held glowed faintly behind the cloth wrapped around it, casting just enough light to reveal four figures. One by the door, two near the back wall, and him.


    <i>Grady.</i>


    The scar down his face caught the light as he sneered. The pistol holstered at his hip made my jaw clench. I hated everything about him.


    "Zandy," he drawled, recognizing me instantly. I also hated that stupid nickname. "You''re late."

 Chapter 4: Little Rat Girl

    "I''m here for my pay." My voice was steady, but exhaustion dragged at my words.


    Grady took a step closer, the lantern bobbing slightly. "Delivery go well?"


    I stared just past his shoulder, keeping my expression blank. "No problems."


    He didn''t need details. Not about the girl. Not about the chase.


    Grady grinned, eyes narrowing. "That all you got for me? Where''s the respect, huh?"


    Respect. I swallowed back the sharp retort. "Let me in. I need to report to Trigger."


    Grady took another step, his scarred face close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You''re too confident, little rat." His hand rose, fingertips grazing my chin.


    I tensed, grip tightening on the knife handle.


    "Back off, Grady."


    The voice cut through the alley like a blade. A woman emerged from the shadows near the door, eyes sharp, stance stiff. Grady stiffened, scowling, but obeyed, stepping back into the shadows. I didn''t know her name, but I was grateful.


    She gestured. "Step forward. Arms up."


    I handed over the knife, forcing my arms behind my head as she patted me down. The cold press of a gun barrel touched the back of my skull.


    "What''s the quickest way out of this city?" she whispered.


    I answered without thinking. "A bullet to the head."


    The truth tasted bitter on my tongue. But that had always been the answer.


    The woman''s gaze softened, but only slightly. "She''s clear."


    The building had three and a half floors, and its skeletal structure was a ruin from a past life. The upper stories had caved in long ago, leaving a dangerous slope of rubble to the left¡ªjagged beams jutted from the collapsed stone like broken ribs. I had climbed that unstable pile many times, mapping routes through the shattered cityscape while keeping a watchful eye on the shifting walls. The third floor barely remained¡ªjust a sliver of flooring and a half-collapsed stairwell that clung to the shadows. At night, it felt like the building was holding its breath, waiting to crumble further.


    I approached the door quickly, keeping my face blank despite the panic twisting inside. Criminals could smell fear, and fear meant weakness. Only the strong survived in Beggar''s End. And while I wasn''t strong, I could pretend. If they saw through my fa?ade, I wouldn''t make it out alive.


    Calm down, I repeated silently, the words looping like a chant. One more step closer. One more breath. One more heartbeat.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Trigger and I had met on an unnaturally cold night two years after The Reckoning. The city had already begun to rot by then, its bones stripped bare. The stores had been pillaged, dumpsters turned inside out, and the streets picked clean of anything edible. If there was food left, it was hidden so deep even the rats struggled to survive.


    The Enforcement delivered rations into the city during the first year but cut off supplies once the barricade around it was fortified. They forced us deeper into the city, continually shrinking its borders. Containing us made hunting and eliminating emerging Legacies easier.


    The only food I managed to find for my family was what I could hunt¡ªmice, squirrels¡ªanything small enough to catch but large enough to keep my little sister and mother alive for another night. Several hours into one of those hunts, I lost track of time. Darkness closed in, the temperature dropped, and the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the ruins. It wasn''t safe to be out so late. I should have known better.


    I heard his footsteps before I saw him. Light, measured, calculated.


    One hundred sixty pounds. Weak left leg. Dominant right hand. I remember the details so clearly because it was the first time I had profiled somebody wrong in the last few months. I''d been prepared to dodge a right-handed swing¡ªso when his left fist caught my jaw instead, it shattered my expectations along with my balance.


    I hit the ground hard. His shadow loomed as he grabbed my collar and hoisted me up. I kicked out, flailing to break free, but he barely seemed to notice. Then he flipped me upside down¡ªcompletely¡ªholding me by the ankles like a caught fish. I struggled, but he held firm, expressionless as he shook me, as if searching for loose valuables.


    My small knife clattered to the ground, followed by three small rats tied to my belt. My only prize.


    Trigger stared down at me, eyes empty, calculating. Finally, he spoke. "I''m going to let you go. I will be back tomorrow for two more rats."


    His voice was cold. Detached. As if he was stating a fact.


    The next night, he returned as promised, the scent of lavender surrounding me as he pressed a hand over my mouth to keep me silent. "The rats?" he asked, calm as before. I didn''t know how he had found me.


    But I had failed at hunting that night. I mumbled that I only caught one, trembling as his eyes narrowed. He said nothing. Just sliced a thin line across my arm. Not deep, but deliberate. A message, not a punishment. Pain was a lesson.


    I thought that was the end of it, but the next morning, he returned. This time, with a strip of ragged cloth to bind the wound. I had begun to understand then. He wasn''t cruel for the sake of it¡ªhe was testing me. Measuring me. And when I didn''t break, he made me useful.


    That was how our twisted arrangement began. I was small, quiet, invisible. Perfect for the work he needed¡ªdelivery, messages, odd jobs that kept me fed and my family breathing. He paid me in scraps, just enough to keep me coming back. And when I failed, there was pain. Controlled, precise pain. Lessons.


    But Trigger never hurt me enough to keep me from working. That would be wasteful.


    His influence over the city grew with every passing month, and so did my debt to him. He was sharp, cold, methodical¡ªa surgeon cutting out weakness wherever he found it. He didn''t waste resources. Not even broken ones.


    Now, standing before his hideout, that same fear gripped me. The scar on my arm throbbed as I traced my fingers over my watch¡ªthe one thing I had left from before my world had collapsed. The one thing he hadn''t taken.


    I kept my hands steady even as the criminals in the shadows watched. They smelled fear. They pounced on weakness. But Trigger''s lessons echoed in my mind.


    Show nothing. Be nothing.


    I wasn''t brave. I was just a coward who knew how to hide it.


    One more step closer. One more night of survival.


    And whatever came next, I would endure.


    Because I had no choice.


    I pushed open the door.

 Chapter 5: The Weight of a Promise

    I opened the door and stepped into the room, blood thrumming in my ears. The hairs on my arms stood up as a chill rolled down my spine. The dark room was lit by a single lantern on a small desk, its flickering glow making the shadows twist unnaturally. My eyes darted across the familiar space, every sense sharpening as I searched for danger. Knives lined the wall to the left of the door¡ªperfectly arranged, meticulously clean. If I had to, I could reach one. Not that it would do much good. Trigger could hit a bullseye blindfolded at two hundred paces.


    My pulse jumped as I scanned the desk. Empty.


    Adrenaline surged just as a hand closed around my mouth. Hard.


    I jerked, ready to drop my weight, twist, strike low¡ªwhen the scent of lavender wrapped around me. Familiar. Haunting.


    The hand released me. I spun, breath catching.


    He had been hiding behind the door. Trigger. The pale, gaunt figure with the sharp green hair somehow still looked calculated despite the disarray. He let the door shut softly behind him, his lips curving into something that might have been a smile if it didn''t feel so...wrong.


    "Zandy. My little mouse hunter."


    The nickname made my skin crawl. I didn''t react, though every muscle screamed at me, too. I braced for the blow, heart pounding as his hand lifted. But it landed on my back with a jarring pat instead of striking. I flinched anyway.


    His face was wrong.


    His sharp, hazel eyes were unfocused, his expression slack. His usual razor-sharp presence dulled and fogged over like a blade left in the rain.


    <i>Something was off.</i>


    I maintained silence, deliberately averting my gaze to the floor. Engaging in eye contact could be perceived as a challenge. Tilting my gaze too low might render me vulnerable. Remain composed. Uphold neutrality.


    Trigger staggered, weaving toward the desk. The sharp scent of alcohol drifted from the bottle beside the lantern.


    <i>Trigger never drank.</i>


    "I''ve always thought I was a decent man," he muttered, voice almost slurred as he dropped into the chair, his boots hitting the desk with a loud thud. "Don''t kill for fun. Don''t waste bullets. Only break what you have to. Right, Zandy?"


    My lips parted, but no sound came. His eyes met mine, distant and strange.


    "Do you think I''m a good person?"


    The room felt like it was closing in. I shook my head quickly, then corrected. "Yes. Of course, sir."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    His face twisted, rage flashing through the haze as he lurched forward, knocking the bottle over. "You''re lying! Everyone keeps lying to me!"


    I held my ground, even as the tension wound tighter in my chest. He stumbled and caught himself against the desk, and the anger drained as quickly as it had come.<i> What was happening?</i>


    Trigger never lost control.


    "I''m taking advantage of the people who have nobody left. I know it." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "But what else am I supposed to do? Let them rot?"


    The city had already rotted. It was just people left now.


    I said nothing, watching his every move. His back straightened suddenly, some thread of his old self snapping back into place. Trigger wasn''t the type to spiral. Whatever this was...it wasn''t weakness. It was dangerous.


    I inched back toward the wall.


    He noticed. His lips curled into that unnatural smile again. "Don''t worry, little hunter. If I wanted you dead, I would have let Grady handle it."


    Grady. The scarred brute who watched me like a wolf circling prey. The reminder didn''t ease the tension knotting my stomach.


    Trigger reached into his coat and withdrew something small. Something metal. The lantern light glinted off the polished barrel as he set the gun down on the desk with a soft click.


    "This is for you."


    My breath caught. "Why?"


    His eyes were half-lidded as he stared into the shadow. "I see things when I stop drinking. Terrible things. You... you''ll need this. You''re going to do great things, Zandy. Or horrible things. Maybe both."


    I didn''t trust gifts. Not from<i> him.</i>


    My fingers itched for the gun, but I hesitated. It could be a test¡ªit had to be. Trigger didn''t give without strings.


    "Sir, maybe you should rest. Or let one of your guards-"


    "No!" His voice cracked as he stiffened, anger flaring back. "They can''t see me like this."


    The bottle tipped again, spilling more liquid onto the desk. The alcohol scent burned my nose.


    I stared at him and then at the gun. <i>What was he playing at?</i>


    "Terrible things are going to happen." Trigger smiled at me again. His head tilted sideways as he walked back to his desk, sat in his chair, and studied me with an unnerving grin. He had finally lost it.<i> </i>


    <i>Could I gain something from this?</i>


    If he''d lost his sanity, he wouldn''t be able to think clearly. I could steal something valuable without him knowing. I glanced around the room. <i>What could I take easily?</i>


    "I''ve trained you well." He laughed and watched me with amusement.


    My eyes darted back to him, and the fear gripping my heart tightened. "Sir?"


    "You''re planning to rob me while I''m vulnerable." Trigger''s smile fell as he leaned on his desk. "But you''ll change your ways soon. You''ll become a hero." The ridiculous grin returned even wider. "Or a villain."


    I pushed aside the selfish urge to stay and find a way to steal any valuable items and instead trained my eyes on the ground. My cheek still stung from the last time Trigger lost his temper. I had to get back to my family. I couldn''t risk it.


    Trigger pushed the gun closer to me. "Take the gun and leave. That''s an order." He threw his head back and took another drink.


    I grabbed the gun quickly, not taking my eyes off him. Trigger just stared at the ceiling with a haunting smile. I quickly walked back towards the door without turning my back on him.


    "Goodbye, Zandy. I will see you again." His head hung to the side. "Maybe in a book. Maybe on a screen. Maybe...never." He trailed off, leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes.


    I reached for the gun, fingers curling around the cold metal. It was heavier than I expected, solid, and unforgiving. I didn''t look away from him as I carefully slipped it into my satchel.


    I thought of Grace and Mother. <i>This could change everything. </i>


    The door clicked shut behind me as I slipped past the group of criminals and back into the alley. The weight of the gun pressing against my hip felt like a promise.


    <i>Something was changing.</i>


    And I wasn''t sure if that terrified me more than the man I was leaving behind.

 Chapter 6: Breath by Breath

    When I finally got home, the moon was obscured by heavy clouds, casting a suffocating darkness over the city. The eerie silence of the streets only amplified the oppressive weight in my chest as the familiar shape of my "home" came into view. Hidden between two collapsed, uninhabited houses, the small building was just another shadow among many in this city of ruin. Its inconspicuousness shielded it from prying eyes and most of the weather, but nothing could shield us from the cold.


    The journey back had been quiet but grueling. Every step had felt like a trial, my nerves on edge as my eyes darted to every flickering shadow. The weight of the gun beneath my thin jacket pressed against me, a constant reminder of the stakes. People would kill for this kind of protection. <i>Would I? </i>The question gnawed at the edges of my mind.


    I wrung my hands as I neared the house, forcing myself to study its condition. It was pitiful. We''d patched the broken windows with mismatched boards and rusted nails, barely keeping out the biting wind. One of the larger, abandoned houses nearby shielded us from some of the rain, but the cold seeped in regardless. It wasn''t much, but it didn''t attract attention, and attention meant trouble. That was why we had rules: no lights, no loud sounds, and no smells. Anything that might draw people to us was forbidden.


    "Lexy!"


    The sharp cry pierced the silence, freezing me in place. My heart stuttered, then raced as I saw Grace stumbling out of the house. Her small, frail form was barely upright, her torn shirt hanging from her shoulders like a discarded rag. Her shoes, so worn that the soles flapped with each step, made a dull, dragging sound against the pavement.


    "Grace? What''s wrong?" I called, already rushing toward her. Pain shot up my leg, and black spots danced at the edges of my vision. My breath caught as I crouched in front of her.


    Her heavy breaths were uneven, and her face was pale and streaked with grime. Loose curls escaped the oversized beanie on her head, revealing a large tear on one side. Her wide amber eyes, identical to Mother''s, were filled with panic. She was thirteen but looked smaller and more fragile than any child should. She was my purpose, my anchor in this broken world. And something was very wrong.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "It''s Mother! She won''t stop coughing," Grace choked out, her voice shaking with fear.


    The world narrowed to a single point. Without another word, I bolted for the house, my heart pounding. "Get her medicine," I shouted over my shoulder.


    The crooked doorway forced me to duck as I entered. Splintered wood and rusted nails lined the frame, threatening to catch at any moment. Inside, Mother''s harsh, choking coughs shattered the silence. The sound cut through me like a blade.


    Mother''s small body curled on the floor, her frame trembling with every convulsion. Her faded brown curls framed her face, strikingly similar to Grace''s but dulled with age and hardship. Her amber eyes were clouded, and tears clung to her lashes. She looked up at me, her voice barely a whisper.


    "Alexandra? Is that you?"


    I dropped to my knees beside her, taking her trembling hand in mine. "I''m here, Mom. I''m here."


    Her breath hitched, and she managed a weak smile.


    "Grace! Where''s the medicine?" My voice cracked as I tried to keep the rising panic at bay. Mother''s coughing fit seized her again, her frail body shaking as she curled tighter against the floor.


    Grace appeared at my side, holding out the small orange bottle. Only one pill remained. <i>Damn pills.</i> My hands trembled as I reached for it, struggling to twist the cap. The simple motion felt impossible, my grip slipping as fear clawed at my mind.


    "Let me help," Grace whispered, her own hands shaking but steadier than mine. She popped the cap and tilted the pill into my hand. Passing me the small container of water we''d managed to collect during a rare rain, she knelt beside me, her wide eyes fixed on Mother.


    I tilted Mother''s head up and gently pressed the capsule to her lips, following it with the smallest sip of water. "Please, Mom. Swallow it. It''ll help."


    She obeyed, but the effort seemed to drain her. Another coughing fit wracked her body, leaving her gasping for breath. I cradled her head in my lap, stroking her hair as tears blurred my vision. I couldn''t let Grace see me break. Not now.


    "How long till it starts working?" Grace''s voice was barely audible, her small hand gripping my shoulder so tightly it hurt.


    "Ten minutes," I said, my voice steady despite the storm in my chest. "You hear that, Mom? Just a little longer, and you''ll feel better."


    I sat with her, holding her close, whispering reassurances I wasn''t sure I believed. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, but she managed a faint smile, her lips moving in a silent response. I forced a smile in return, swallowing the lump in my throat. The helplessness was suffocating.


    Minutes ticked by, each breath a battle for Mother. Grace knelt beside me, her small body pressed against mine as if trying to share her strength. Finally, Mother''s coughing subsided, and her body relaxed. Her eyes fluttered shut.

 Chapter 7: The Weight of Survival

    ¡°She¡¯s asleep,¡± Grace whispered.


    I didn¡¯t want to move. I wanted to monitor every breath Mother took, to be certain each one followed the last. But my senses screamed at me to get up, to check the shadows beyond the house. Someone must have heard Grace¡¯s cry. Carefully, I set Mother¡¯s head down on the rotting floor and rose to my feet. The one advantage of rotting wood¡ªit didn¡¯t creak.


    Grace barreled into me, her body shaking with quiet sobs. My arms instinctively wrapped around her, and my fingers smoothed her tangled hair. ¡°She¡¯s okay,¡± I whispered, forcing a smile. I kissed her forehead and gestured toward Mother. Grace nodded, biting her lip as she settled beside her again.


    I forced myself to swallow my own emotions, to rebuild the wall that had cracked the moment I thought I¡¯d lost Mother for good. It wasn¡¯t strong anymore. Too many times, I had torn it down, only to build it back up again. Now, it was riddled with holes, barely holding back the flood.


    I traced my father¡¯s watch on my wrist. Be strong.


    Steeling myself, I turned to the boarded-up window, peering through the cracks. The alley was dark, too dark. I squinted, scanning the shadows. Had something moved?


    My hand instinctively found my knife. I wouldn¡¯t throw it unless they came through the door. It was my only weapon. If I lost it, I¡¯d claw, bite, fight with everything I had.


    Anything for my family.


    I crouched by the door, waiting, breath shallow. An hour passed. No one came.


    ¡°Alexandra?¡± Mother¡¯s voice, raspy and strained, broke the silence.


    I turned instantly, dropping to my knees beside her. ¡°Mom. I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°You were gone longer than usual today. I was worried.¡± Her weak smile made my chest tighten.


    ¡°I¡¯m always careful.¡± I kissed her cheek. ¡°You should be focused on yourself, not me. How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± A cough wracked her frail body. She pulled her knees up, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. I knew she was lying.


    I squeezed her hand. ¡°You should rest. I¡¯ll bring you food soon.¡± My mother¡¯s forced smile sent a wave of affection through me. She was trying to hide her pain, to be strong for us.


    Ever since The Reckoning, she had been different. She rarely smiled; when she did, it was half-hearted and strained. Months after we were stranded in Los Angeles, the city we once loved, now called Beggar¡¯s End, she started to adopt the strained wheeze that echoed through the house.


    I returned to the only other room in the small house and glanced out the boarded-up windows again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe Grace¡¯s cry would go unnoticed.


    ¡°Lexy?¡±


    I glanced over my shoulder. Grace stood behind me and shuffled her feet on the floor. ¡°I know I shouldn¡¯t have shouted. I should have waited, but I thought she was going to¡­you know.¡± Her eyes shined with tears as she didn¡¯t meet my gaze.


    ¡°I would have done the same.¡± I couldn¡¯t scold her for this.


    She still refused to meet my gaze.


    I knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at me. ¡°I love you. You know that, right?¡±


    She nodded, and her lip trembled, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to put us in danger. I really didn¡¯t.¡±


    I smiled and kissed her forehead before standing up. ¡±I know you¡¯d never do that. Now wipe your tears and get us some rations.¡± I smirked at her sudden excitement.


    She glanced up at me with her eyes wide. ¡°Really?¡±


    It warmed my heart to see her happy again, ¡°Yes.¡±


    Her smile grew so bright it could have outdone the sun.


    ¡°But only enough for a day,¡± I warned quickly, partly reminding myself. The empty gnawing of my insides had been a constant for the last few years. It felt as if my body was eating itself, and there was always a sick turning in my stomach. I suppose it <i>was</i> eating itself. It was said that a human could go up to three weeks without eating food. It seems the universe wanted us to test that.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Grace¡¯s stomach growled happily as she nodded and dragged herself to the back wall of the house. She dug her fingers behind one of the boards and pulled it quickly away from the wall, which revealed a small dirt-covered bag. She looked into it, almost desperately, and shuffled through the bag''s contents. Her face fell. ¡°There¡¯s hardly enough food to split with two people.¡±


    I pushed down the desperation and hunger that was clawing at my stomach and choked out the words before my throat locked up. ¡°You and Mother must eat first.¡±


    Grace shook her head slowly. The whole time, her eyes fixed on the small bag of food. ¡°You have to eat. You haven¡¯t eaten in days.¡±


    ¡°You and Mother need it more than me.¡±


    Grace could barely walk anymore, and Mother couldn¡¯t stand without help. They were weak; they needed food soon, or they would die. It didn¡¯t matter if I went starving. They came first. They would always come first.


    Grace protested and grabbed my arm as I turned away. ¡°And you don¡¯t need food? You must eat today. You¡¯re getting weaker by the day.¡±


    I turned and avoided her eyes. Of course, I knew this. Every day, I could feel my limbs grow heavier, and every day, I feared I wouldn¡¯t wake up. ¡°I can¡¯t eat while you and Mother are starving.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re <i>all </i>starving!¡±


    We were all growing weaker by the day.


    Trigger supplied me with rations occasionally, enough to keep me and only me on my feet. He preached self-dependence and the ability to rely on yourself, but I disagreed. I disagreed very strongly. I would rather die of starvation than let Grace or Mother, the only two people in the world who mattered to me, starve first. So we shared my rations. Our ribs showed through our torn clothes, and our faces were dangerously hollow, but I still had more strength than Grace. I could keep going. I had to. ¡°Gr-¡±


    She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at me stubbornly. ¡°If you¡¯re not eating, I¡¯m not eating either.¡±


    I sighed. I didn¡¯t have enough energy to argue.<i> It was hard enough surviving wit-</i>


    Grace turned to the window, her voice soft but certain. ¡°I think Mother needs a good meal, too. She needs the extra food.¡±


    A stubborn pride surged through me as I watched her. She was stronger-willed than she looked¡ªstronger than me. She held the food without hesitation, without even sniffing it. If I had held it, I would have been tempted to rip it open and devour every last bite.


    ¡°Mother¡¯s not doing well, is she?¡± Grace¡¯s voice barely carried through the stale air.


    I bit the inside of my cheek. ¡°She needs to see a doctor soon.¡±


    We both stared at Mother¡¯s frail form. Another strained cough rattled her chest, her body curling inward as if she could protect herself from the pain.


    ¡°Is she going to die?¡± Grace asked, barely audible.


    I forced steel into my voice. ¡°She¡¯s strong enough to pull through this.¡± I wished I believed it. Her breaths were shallow, shaky. ¡°We need to find a doctor soon. The medicine only numbs the pain.¡±


    We were out of her pills. After tonight, we¡¯d be out of food, too.


    ¡°But we can¡¯t afford a doctor.¡±


    The few doctors in Beggar¡¯s End charged thousands. No one could stop them; their prices controlled life and death. Those who could pay secured their survival behind layers of security guards. The rest of us were left to fend for ourselves.


    Unless we found a doctor alone. Unless we forced their hand.


    My fingers curled around the gun in my pocket. Maybe.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find a way,¡± I muttered. ¡°We always do.¡±


    I reached for the last bag of rations and tore it open, the adhesive barely holding together. The scent that escaped hit me like a brick, a cruel reminder of how empty my stomach had become. The wave of desperation was so powerful it nearly sent me to my knees.


    ¡°Mother needs to eat.¡± My whisper was almost a plea¡ªto myself, to my willpower. I clenched my fists and forced the hunger down. ¡°Here.¡±


    Grace hesitated. ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Give it to Mom.¡± My voice came out harsher than I intended. I turned away before I could snatch it back from her myself, putting as much distance between myself and the food as possible. If I took even one bite, I wouldn¡¯t be able to stop.


    I rubbed my father¡¯s watch, grounding myself in the familiar cool metal against my skin. I didn¡¯t trust myself right now.


    Grabbing a small stone from the ground, I focused on sharpening my knife, the rhythmic scraping steadying my mind. Through the cracks in the boarded-up window, I scanned the street. It was almost empty. A few shadows flitted through the darkness, and my heart skipped.


    Was someone out there?


    A sharp pain sliced through my leg so suddenly that I nearly collapsed. I barely caught myself against the wall, my knife clattering to the floor. The numbness that had shielded me all day was finally fading, leaving only agony in its place.


    Behind me, Grace and Mother murmured softly, their voices blurred by the throbbing in my head. I turned away from them and slowly rolled up my shredded pant leg. The sight made my stomach churn. The wound was a mess of purple, red, and yellow. The crude wrapping barely held together.


    My satchel was only a few steps away. The medicine inside called to me.


    No. You¡¯re stronger than this.


    I untied the filthy cloth around the wound, my hands shaking. A small cup of water sat nearby¡ªprecious, rationed. I tipped it carefully, letting the cool liquid wash over the wound. It burned. A thin ribbon of red water pooled onto the floorboards. My vision wavered.


    ¡°Lexy?¡±


    I turned at Grace¡¯s voice. She stood a few feet away, worry etched into her face. Her gaze flickered to the fallen knife. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± I forced my voice to stay even as I wrapped the wound tightly again and pushed myself upright. My vision swam, but I gritted my teeth and leaned against the wall for balance.


    Grace didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°Lexy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I lied. ¡°Just need to sit.¡±


    Sliding down against the wall, I let my head rest back, every part of me screaming for rest. The gun weighed heavily in my pocket, an unspoken reminder of what I might have to do.


    Trigger had given it to me. No price, no explanation. One of the most valuable things in Beggar¡¯s End, handed over without a second thought.


    He had an angle. He always had an angle.


    I had to figure out what it was¡ªbefore it was too late.

 Chapter 8: Embers of Chaos

    It was midnight when fire began raining down from the sky. A terrified scream shattered the silence, piercing through the fragile walls of the house. I shot upright, my breath catching in my throat. My mind, still foggy from sleep, struggled to grasp what was happening. Grace tossed beside me, mumbling in her sleep, while Mother stirred weakly.


    "Grace," I whispered, shaking her. My fingers trembled against her thin shoulder. Another scream ripped through the night, this one closer, more desperate. The sound jolted me awake completely, sending a cold wave of fear through my veins.


    "Lexy?" Grace''s voice was barely a whisper as she rubbed her eyes. The darkness cloaked us, but I could make out the faint outline of her face, confused and tired.


    "You need to wake up. Now." I pulled her upright, gripping her shoulders. "Listen to me closely. Wake up Mother and meet me by the door."


    "What¡¯s happening?" She yawned, but I could hear the growing worry in her tone.


    "I don¡¯t know." I forced myself to my feet, biting back a sharp gasp as pain exploded up my leg. My wound¡ªstill raw from days without proper treatment¡ªthrobbed with every movement. I clenched my fists, willing the pain to be swallowed by the adrenaline coursing through me.


    Another scream, this time followed by wailing. Crying. Voices shouting over one another in the distance. Something was terribly wrong.


    I limped to the boarded-up window and pressed an eye to the crack between the wooden slats. Thick, gray smoke curled into the air like ghostly tendrils. The acrid scent of burning wood and flesh filled my nostrils. Fire.


    I staggered back, coughing.


    I darted toward the back corner. I tore up a loose floorboard, reaching for the flasher hidden beneath it. My hands shook violently as I cocked it, the familiar weight feeling unfamiliar in my grip. I snatched my knife from the bedside, shoving it into my pocket before limping back to my family.


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    Grace was already by the door, holding Mother close. Their eyes¡ªwide, fearful¡ªsearched mine for reassurance I couldn¡¯t give.


    "I need you to follow me. No matter what, don¡¯t lose sight of me," I ordered, peeking outside again.


    "What are you going to do?" Grace whispered, clutching Mother tighter.


    I hesitated, my gaze dropping to the gun in my hands. Trigger¡¯s words echoed in my mind. ''You¡¯ll need it.'' Had he known? Was he the one behind this? A shiver ran down my spine. It didn¡¯t matter now. Survival mattered.


    "People do unpredictable things when they¡¯re scared," I murmured. "I¡¯m getting us out of here."


    Grace¡¯s eyes flickered to the gun, her lips parting in silent alarm. "Lexy¡ª"


    "Later." I hated to cut her off, but we didn¡¯t have time.


    The smell of smoke thickened, making it harder to breathe. "We can¡¯t stay here. The fire will reach us." My thoughts scrambled, searching for a plan. My heart hammered so loudly that it drowned out my reasoning. "Follow me. Now."


    I cracked the door open an inch. The street beyond was drenched in firelight, the flickering glow casting grotesque shadows over the bodies littering the ground. My stomach twisted at the sight of smoldering corpses, limbs curled unnaturally as the flames continued their merciless feast.


    I wrenched the door open wider, stepping out and shielding Grace from the carnage. My injured leg nearly buckled, a sharp pain tearing through me. Push through it. I clenched my jaw. Protect them. They are all that matters.


    Buildings collapsed in the distance, sending embers spiraling into the smoky sky. Screams and gunshots rang out, blending into a twisted symphony of chaos. People sprinted past, some engulfed in flames, others blindly fleeing the destruction.


    Their cries pierced my mind as memories of my father¡¯s death consumed my thoughts. I panicked as I thought of him. That dreadful day five years ago flooded my thoughts and tore down the careful walls I had built up. My father¡¯s terrified face appeared behind my eyelids.


    Every time I blinked, the memory of him dying crashed into me. The shadows were suddenly all around me again and were dragging people into its huge mass. Except this time, flames crawled on people instead and caused their horrified screams to hum in my ears. Somehow, in my gut, I knew that Trigger had not caused this, but he had somehow known about it.


    ¡°Lexy!¡±


    I blinked and shook away the shadows in my vision. <i>Focus. Get out. Escape. </i>


    I pulled Grace and Mother forward into the chaos.

 Chapter 9: No Kneeling for Monsters

    The alleyway we crept into contained twelve people. Each huddled against the wall. Many desperately grasped their makeshift weapons.


    My eyes darted to each person, and my finger shook on the flasher''s trigger. The man closest to us had a bat wrapped tightly around a chain. He looked angry. The woman next to him had a butcher knife, and her eyes wildly scanned the alleyway for any threat.


    Some people cried, but the shrieks of the people in the makeshift crescent of houses drowned out their sobs.


    Grace held our weak Mother close to her. Her eyes were fixed ahead, and her gaze was determined. Mother was slumping against Grace, with her tangled brown hair covering her face.


    Only two other people in the alleyway held guns; one had a shotgun, and the other held a rifle. They eyed me with equal unease. I knew I could shoot the others before they got to us, but we couldn''t dodge bullets. I stared down at the gun in my hand. Would<i> I kill one of these people? </i>My hands trembled. Could<i> </i>I kill someone again?


    "We can''t stay here." If we made our way past the alleyway into another part of town, we could lay low for a while, and everyone would be too worried about themselves to care about us. I turned back to Grace.


    <i>No.</i>


    My heart dropped, she was gone. Mother was leaning against the wall and had tears in her eyes as she sobbed into her hands. The image of my father being dragged away tore through me. "Where is Grace?" My legs felt weak as I whipped around and looked down the alley for her desperately. "Where is she!"


    Mother''s eyes were tear-filled and panicked, and her sobs racked her whole body as she tried to choke out the words. "She couldn''t watch other people die. She went back to save them. I tried to stop her-." I reached into my pocket and shoved the knife into her grasp. "You need to take care of yourself. If anyone tries to hurt you, stab whatever they leave open."


    I spun. Mother grabbed my wrist, her voice breaking. "Please don''t leave! I can''t lose you too."


    Grace wasn''t lost. <i>Not yet.</i>


    "I''ll bring Grace back," I promised, and tore back down the alleyway towards the square, pain shooting up my leg with every step. My hands trembled violently as sweat dripped down my clammy forehead. <i>I told her to stay behind me. </i>I couldn''t breathe; panic and smoke choked me. Grace was out there alone.


    "No! No! No!" I screamed and frantically searched for her. I couldn''t lose her, too. "Grace!" I screamed. People clawed past me in a desperate attempt to get away from the fire and death. I could smell the fear. I could smell the dying as they pitifully tried to save themselves from the consuming flames.


    Relief flooded my soul as I caught sight of a small brown-haired form. Grace knelt by a body. Her head in her hands, and her shoulders shook as she cried. I ran towards her, "Grace!"


    "I couldn''t save him." Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, and her soft voice broke. "I tried to, he just-I couldn''t-." She stared down at the body and gasped for breath through her sobs and hiccups.


    "We need to leave. We''re not safe here." I grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. I held the flasher in my other hand. "We need to leave," I repeated and dragged her away from the boy''s body. He looked only a few years older than her.


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    "Lexy!" Grace''s shrieks echoed in my ears as she stared past my shoulder. Her eyes were wide with terror.


    I swung my gun around and prepared to shoot. I froze. I tried to fire, but my finger wouldn''t move. It was as if fear was pulling my finger away from the trigger.


    A man walked towards us, with his whole body engulfed in flames. He didn''t scream. Instead, he laughed as he walked towards us. The glee in his eyes sent a shiver up my spine. His smile widened as he saw my gun and my horrified expression. "Now you. You''re a pretty one." The flames leaped off of his dark skin as if they were searching for their next victim. "Do you really think you can hurt me?"


    The closer he got, the shakier my hands became. Oddly enough, I felt no heat, only the determination to keep my sister safe. I stepped in front of Grace protectively. I was not going to lose her like I had lost my father. Intense hatred tore through my heart.


    The gun trembled in my hand. <i>Shoot him! </i>I screamed at myself, <i>Kill him!</i> But my gun continued to shake uncontrollably, and the trigger felt impossible to move. I tried to steady my breath as he came closer, and his smile grew wider.


    I stared at my shaking gun. My false shield and my false hope. Despite what Trigger said, it wouldn''t help me. The Legacy would melt the bullet before it hit him. There was nothing I could do, and there was no way I could survive this.


    "Kneel now and accept your fate." He smiled down at me and stepped closer.


    He was a Legacy. A man who enjoyed watching death and destruction. A man who smiled at the screams of the dying. A man just like my father''s murderer. All the nightmares and long nights crying sped through my mind like the wind, surrounding me with fear, sadness, but most of all anger.


    <i>Kneel? </i>


    He wanted me to kneel. My face burned with anger. <i>He wanted to gloat as he killed me?</i> I felt anger so powerful I was almost knocked off my feet.


    "I will never <i>ever </i>kneel before a monster like you," I whispered. My hands trembled as my whole body shook, and warm tears of fear slowly dripped down my face. <i>My father fought back! He freed me. </i>


    My dad''s face appeared before me, and his warm voice flooded over me. "You''re stronger than you know."


    "You will kneel, or I''ll make your death long and painful." His smile widened as he stood a foot from me and raised a flame-covered hand. "You will die afraid."


    I steadied my heart and forced my words out with as much anger as possible. I hoped he could feel my overwhelming hate. "I will never kneel to you. You''re the coward!" I spat in his face. "I hope you burn in hell." Although I doubted he could burn.


    His smile fell, and a snarl appeared on his face. "Then you will burn." He reached for me, and the flames on his hands reached for me greedily.


    "Grace, run!" I would hold onto him, no matter how much pain I was in. I would keep him from Grace. I would die like my father by protecting the people I love. "Now!" A cry escaped my lips as I called out to her. I couldn''t take my eyes away from the dancing flames.


    "I can''t leave you," Grace screamed in my ear¡ªa horrible replay of how my father had died.


    I answered the same way my father had, "Go! Protect mother." Out of our family, two would be murdered by Legacies. Two left to survive alone, both sick and dying.


    I heard Grace scramble to her feet and run as fast as she could. The Legacy stared at her like a lion sizing up a gazelle and raised his hand to throw fire at her. He would kill her if I didn''t do this. I had to give her as much time as I could to escape. I reached for him.


    I would burn in seconds, but maybe a second would somehow save her life.


    Seconds from death, I felt numb, like this was all a dream. This had all happened so fast; not ten minutes ago, I was curled up next to my mother and Grace in our home. Now, I was going to die alone. It didn''t seem real.


    I was going to die after all this time clinging to life and fighting to survive. <i>Protect your mother and sister</i>. It was the last promise I made to my father before he died. I would fulfill that promise.


    <i>I will protect my family.</i>


    I grabbed his arm, and it sent sparks up my body. I prepared for the heat, the burning, the screams that would be torn from my lungs. But nothing happened.


    I didn''t burn.