Descendants, The Sacred Treasures

Jade lives a normal life, she's one of the most normal girls you could know. but when a stranger catches her, during a fall, her life is twisted round and round, into a knot. Jade falls in love with the wrong guy and her life falls apart like the petals of a rose, one by one.

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8. Chapter 8

        The man turned her round to face him, as he taped her mouth shut. The man looked middle aged and from his ascent she could tell he was British, (like her) he had burns on his face and one evil looking scar across his smiling mouth. He was wearing a burnt and ripped polystyrene t-shirt, with burnt dark green jeans. He had dark blonde hair that was greasy and messy, he smelt too (not a good smell, but a smell of rotten grapes). “Pretty, aren’t you?” He’d said, still smirking, while he stroked her face. Jade really wanted to spit at this guy, but she knew she couldn’t, whether her mouthed was duct-taped or not. He turned round, still holding the gun to her back and opened the front door. He came back and pushed her out the door. There was a green van parked outside the house, its engine still on. Jade could see a figure, on the driver’s seat, through the dark window. The back door suddenly slid open and a hooded figure came out. The man behind her nodded and covered hear ears, if Jade realised he’d had to use both hands and had put the gun away, she would have ran. He mumbled something that Jade couldn’t hear and then the man by the van came over and dragged her over to the vehicle. Jade couldn’t see his face because it was hidden by a black mask. He picked her of her feet so her feet were dangling off the ground. He took out a knife, as he placed her in the van, and stabbed her left ankle. “That should keep you quiet for a bit.” The pain was like when Will had stabbed her but 2 xs less. It was throbbing, and aching. Jade gripped it with her hand to try and stop the bleeding, but it just seeped through her fingers, dripping on the floor. She heard the engine start, she ripped off the tape, which was on her mouth and yelped in pain. Bad decision, Jade thought. She rubbed her lips with her spare hand as the van came to a halt. Jade flew to the back of the van hitting her body on the doors. “Ouch!” Jade yelled, moodily. “Shut up!” came a unpleasant voice from the front. “Or what?” Jade angrily asked. “You remember about our guns, little missy?” one of the men said, cleverly. Jade nodded and crawled back into a corner.

    A couple of long hours later the van stopped and the back doors quickly opened. The man that was revealed smiled and threw a scrawny boy into the van. He landed next to her, he didn’t move, not even breathe. Jade a little worried turned the boy over and gasped at his face. It was covered in scars, cuts, broses and burns. She started CPR, just like her fake mother had taught her. The boy seemed to start breathing almost straight away. He sat up quickly and fainted. Jade huffed and looked closer at the boy. Now she could see him more clearly, since she wasn’t panicking. He had fair blonde hair that shined and he was wearing a plain blue T-shirt, his jeans were grey with burn holes in them. The skin underneath them was throbbing and bright pink, it looked painful, really painful. She went to touch one, but before she’d even got close the boy woke up, with a start. He looked at Jade strangely and then at his burns, he shook his head and said “Who are you?” Jade smiled (she’d almost forgotten about the pain in her leg) and said “I’m Jade, what’s your name?” He sat up and muttered “Orlando.”                     

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