Burnt Servivors

Lithisia has a dark past, and is working with the rebellion to save others like her from a similar fate. But the enemy is growing, and the only way to move forward, is to look back. But can she control herself, or will she watch the world burn.


1. Lithisia

Just before we begin, this is the first part for a story I'm thinking of writing. Please tell me weather you like it or not, because if no one reads it I wont force myself to write it.


 I crouch down behind some crates. The sound of feet rushing from door to door. Shouts of confusion ring in my ears. They're to close to make a run for it even if I was by myself. which I'm not. I have a new recruit with me. Someone with no training, no experience in the feild and no helpful knowledge. Great.

"What do we do now, Leico?" Lizabeth uses my code name. It's the only name she will ever use for me, to ensure her own safety. My name is dangerous. It has a dark past.

I quieten her with a finger to my lips. My eyes flicker around the room, assessing our situation while Lizabeth clings to my arm. We're behind a stack of crates (3 crates by 5). I can't see behind us, but there is some kind of light source. In front of us are more crates staked in similar ways, lazily done, as if the person didn't really care about his job as he did it. I don't need to check what's in them. I already know.

Guns, ammo, food supplies etc. Anything the arms needs to keep control. Supplies my organisation desperately need.

I risk looking around the corner of my hiding place. There's a group of three men standing by the door. They have their guard down. They don't expect we would be stupid enough to come here, which is exactly why we did.

I look over at Lizabeth, and see her hazel eyes staring back at me, full of fear. She tries to hide it by pushing her curly, thick chocolate hair from her cream face to appear confident, and jutting out her jaw. This girl is no fighter. Her features are delicate, her personality sweet. There is only one option, and I don't like it.

"Ok, Lizzbug," She smiles at the nickname she told me her parents used to use, "we're going to wait a bit, k? Then, when they've calmed down and there is only one guard I'll...take care of him, them we get outta here. Got it?"

Lizabeth nods furiously, then sits on my lap. I let her. She's only seven and has seen so much war already. If anyone deserves this small gesture, she does.

So we sit, and we wait.

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