Their laced boots sunk deeper into the mud.

The blood red flag they proudly carried was covered with splotchy grass stains, torn at the edges, weakly blowing in the wind. Some men shivered, unprepared for the cold air. And yet their own faces, sheltered by their netted helmets, did not strike a note of familiarity with me. I was not sure if I was running or falling. All I knew was that once they got past those fields, they would be staring into the eyes of four hundred people.

Water dripped from the ends of rusted barrels attached to the camaflouged tanks. Blood traveled down my chin, making its way to the ground. The tall grass brushed against my arms as their shadows became more visible, stretching and crawling out on the ground like snakes. As clumps of snow gathered on the earth, the sensation of someone's gaze on me washed over my senses. My eyes fell upon that face, the one who had been present in most of Baldwin's meetings, who had tied me up against the post in his camp; his loyal accomplice.

I held a hand out. A large ice spike shot out from the ground, lodging one of the tanks in place. Flames burst out from the surface, causing some of the Red Mambas to jump out in time, scrambling to get away from the heat. The orange glow fell upon the field, on their uniforms and helmets. Thick smoke rose in the air, reaching out towards the sky and creating a dense gray cloud.

The colonel made a gesture with his arm, motioning his small line of soldiers to remain still, barely appearing fazed by the impact. He appeared to be a lot older than I had remembered; wrinkles settled around his nose and mouth. His damp gray hair was plastered to his forehead underneath his helmet. When he jumped down from the own machine he was on, water sloshed from his boots. An amused look settled on his face as he gazed at the burning tank, before escalating to full blown laughter. I kept my gaze focused on him, unable to look away. A few soldiers adjusted their pointed weapons at me.

"You must be joking," the man wheezed, bending over to contain himself. He pointed a twisted finger at me. "I'll be damned; I'd should've known this would've happened sooner or later. It was only a matter of time."

I continued to stare at him.

"I remember when you were young, exploring the offices of the main building. Such a curious lad, you were. You were interested about the weapons." His voice dropped into a soft whisper. "The legacy of Jova."

The scent of grass became stronger.

A wide grin stretched on his lips, revealing his straight, white teeth. "What a complete failure you turned out to be. You thought what you pulled back there was real smooth, yes? Slaughtering his generals like helpless sheep and then pitching another fit. You think we're surprised, we're not. Not really. How intelligent you must be to make such a point; when you thought everyone was the most pathetic for your sorry little celebration. It's a shame you didn't invite me; for sure things would have out turned a lot differently." He gave a sideways glance to one of his men. "Baldwin is disappointed. He had faith in you."

"That was his mistake."

The colonel reloaded his rifle, the clicking noise echoing in my ears. "You've crossed a major line here. Such a shame; you were doing so well before with the program. At least it didn't take as long to find you this time; we didn't even have to try. You're quite lucky, actually, that he doesn't want your head, although you may be happy to be able to even see the sun once he deals with you." He chuckled. "We can do this the easy or hard way. Don't make things more difficult than they need to be."

"You take one step closer, you'll find out yourself." The pressure of the rain and snow settled on my wet hair. "Trust me, you will."

"Do the honorable thing and take your punishment like a real man would. We all know you tampered with the records for one of the security wards. Where are the prisoners? It's a simple question. We won't hurt them too bad."

A chill ran down my spine. "There is nobody here."

"Oh, come on now," Lockwell murmured. Another bolt of lightning slashed the sky. "Look. You can stop whatever desperate plan you have left in that strange little mind of yours. Enough with this back and forth. Don't rely on your own willpower to the point that you believe no one can match up to you. Calm yourself, breathe a little, fess up to everything. Just come clean; you're a fraud. Always have been, always will be."

It was impossible to look at him.

The colonel released an exasperated sigh. "You think lying is really going to help you now? Have you lost your senses? Why on earth are you doing this to Plod? This is your country. Your home. Your people."

"Ou pitit gason yon femèl chen. You are not my people," I snarled. "You took everything from our citizens. Nor are you soldiers, but cowards." With one swift motion, I spat on the ground. "You destroy whatever you touch."

His face reddened. "So you're speaking for all the people on our island then? Quite bold of you. I see you have made your decision. You stupid boy; you ruined your only chance to turn things around. But, as they say, experience is a harsh teacher."

I didn't respond, my chest rapidly rising up and down, as it was getting harder to breathe. When he motioned to one of his men, my face began to sting as Lockwell gave me a long look. He pushed his silver bangs from his eyebrows.

"Burn the village to the ground and leave nothing standing but scorched earth. Take every man, woman, and child and let their blood run all over the ground. Make sure this imposter doesn't escape and bring him back to Baldwin as he ordered. You are free to do what you want, but remember, he wants this filthy abomination alive." His dark eyes were glazed over. "Every form of suffering that you can think of, he permits it."

Thunder rumbled above us, shaking the sky.

Lockwell raised his weapon. "Seize him."

My tendrils rose in the air as soon as the first person pulled the trigger. I landed sideways in the dirt, holding a palm forward. Crackling noises echoed on the ground as a large ice pillar rose in the air. The fissures began to form on its surface as bullet shells flew in every direction; energy washed over me like a wave. Clenching my jaw, the grass erupted, rippling and breaking apart as several long spikes protruded from the dirt. Wind blew in my face as I started to swing across them, the popping sound of bullets echoing in the fields. In the corner of my eye, I could see that a few men had begun to make their way through the tall grass, crouching on their knees.

"Fire," one of the generals hollered.

A hot blast caused the ice to shatter into pieces.

I flew backwards, slamming against the trunks of several trees; broken pieces of wood lodged in my back, which was soaked with blood and leaves. The branches snapped and flew in the air, leaving a long trail in front of me. Beads of water floated in the air as my tendrils dissolved. I fell head over heels before landing hard on the ground, the sudden impact causing my spine to ache. Pain settled over me when the butt of a man's rifle collided against my skull. Something hot and warm slid down my temple as his fist made contact with my face. Gasping for air, I could feel the Red Mamba's cold hands trying to pin me down against the ground in order to tie my wrists. Although my head was throbbing, a strange guttural noise escaped from my mouth, one that did not sound human.

He began to cough and sputter, blood escaping from his already lifeless face meeting mine; a long shard of ice had already impaled him to the spot. Adjusting to the pressure in my head, I leapt into the air, the slope of ice growing under my feet. A strong hail of bullets littered my vision as I slid towards them, gritting my teeth, my ears stopped up with blood and snow and mud, blocking each shot with the new tendrils I had begun to grow and attach to my back.

My veins bulged through my skin as four large chunks of ice rose in the air, breaking off from the earth. With a heavy grunt I pushed my arms outwards, causing them to fly forward and shoot in different directions; clouds of dust rose from where they landed against. Like ants, the men in front of me began to disperse. Frozen hooks formed at the end of the streams of water that floated outwards. When I opened my bloody mouth, snow and frost shot out in the air in a steady stream. Crystal clear pillars broke through the earth's surface, slicing a few men who were near me in half; their organs smeared on the hard exteriors.

The colonel's eyes slightly widened, as if he was in a bit of a dazed state. After composing himself in time he threw an object in the air towards me. I landed on the ground with a heavy thud, mud clinging to the ends of my torn jeans, the ground beginning to split open. The impact of the grenade caused me to stumble, but I regained my balance, struggling to see through the smoke. My tendril wrapped around a man and threw him in the air, his shrieks ending as he fell headfirst on a tank, fragments of his skull flying in the she .

Pressure settled in my palms as I held both hands out, blue light escaping from the cracks as a jagged row of ice boulders exploded from the wet soil. The vibration was so strong that the earth lifted. A searing pain shot through my head as I directed them forward, dismembered arms and legs flying in the air. Someone screamed in pain as they laid on the ground, their limbs bent in the wrong way. Others didn't move at all through their reflections; helmets strewn in the grass. A large wave of frost washed over those in front of me, half buried in snow.

I fought to keep focused, my eyelids drooping. The long streams of water attached to me wrapped around several more tanks, bits of metal and material flying in the air as they smashed against each other. Fire spread across the tall grass, causing trees to glow; the sudden warm detonation pushed me back. The burning scent of diesel and human flesh filled my nose and lungs.

An object struck me in the arm, my blood drippping and coating my elbow. I cried out, clutching it immediately as frost spread on my skin. The ends of my hair grew white as I slumped to the ground on my knees, strange noises coming from me.

A burning sensation shot up my limbs.

I tried to move away but I couldn't; the thick metallic band sank into my skin. Before I could try to pry it off, another one wrapped around my leg. I noticed some sort of machine in which these chains were attached to was still smoking in his hand; more men were rushing towards me, staying low that they had been taught in their training within the grass. I gnashed my teeth, wincing as the manacle bit deeper in me.

I collapsed to my knees.

"Kenbe!” Lockwell yelled at his men.

The pressure around my wrists tightened.

“Kenbe li desann—”

Rain poured down harder. I cried out once more, yanking as hard as I could; a large chunk of my flesh came off with the shackle. The wind began to swirl around us. Lockwell gripped the chain, covered in snow, his heels digging in soft earth. My bare feet slid in the mud, the remains of my clothes burnt and scorched. Frost grew on the chains, deep purple gashes marked the cold iron bands on my skin. His motionless men's eyes studied him from behind the ice blocks. I aimed my water tendrils at a nearby tree and swung myself forward, the wind blowing my hair in all directions. His hands were completely frozen to the end of the chains, bound there forever.

The colonel released a loud scream as he was dragged through the branches and hanging vines that had become encrusted with frost. The sound of his bones snapping filled my ears, but I didn't stop moving. My breaths were heavy, labored as my bare feet made contact with the earth. The chain flew upward, slamming him down against its surface. Icebergs slowly rose in the air. He laid face down in the snow, blood oozing from his split skull, chunks of his brain smeared on the rocks. I could barely think or see through my blurry vision due to the intense pulsations within my head.

Suddenly my legs gave way; I tumbled down the hill, unimaginable pain coursing through my body. The chains rattled as they dragged across the rocks; dirt flew in the air. Something soft appeared beneath me; I found myself in a bush, sinking in between thousands of bright green leaves. Snow landed on my hair and the plants around me; yet the sweet scent of moss was stronger than ever.

* * * * * * *

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I left you behind.

I knew you were scared, and yet I abandoned you along with everyone else. I didn't mean to. We were going to continue on, you and I, like the old days, when we used to build together and throw mud at each other and fight and laugh and watch the stars from above. You used to tell me that one day you liked to imagine that you could paint them all and capture their essence and beauty on a page. You told me you wanted to draw out the lines, and that you would give me the best art I had ever seen.

I stabbed you in the back, even after you helped me. I attacked you and harmed your daughter. I did nothing but cry and hide while they dragged you out of your house and shot you on the spot, with your wife and child. He was there, wanting to see it, because you used to work for him. While your blood flowed out on the streets, I hid in the shadows and turned away. Your screams for help when he made you watch them take away the love of your life and your child fell dead to my ears. I allowed him to see the papers you had given me to find my own family. I betrayed you.

I'm sorry.

* * * * * * *

The texture of the patterned blanket beneath me was soft and fuzzy. I slightly moved my fingers, although I was still in a dark, warm place. It took me a moment to realize that I was on my stomach; that none of my bones were broken. When I tried to roll over on my side, pain shot across my back, and a soft noise escaped from my lips.

I slowly opened my swollen eyes.

Yellow sunlight streamed through the cracks of the bamboo walls that surrounded me. For a moment, I wondered if I was in a dream. Two distinct pieces of decorated tapestry gently blew in the wind that blocked the entrance. I managed to sit up, wincing in pain as my matted hair, which was down to my waist, fell over my face. Some sort of ointment was smeared across my back. Dozens of cuts entirely marked my arms and legs, all covered in the strong smelling stuff. The blanket slid off the bed and fell to the dirt floor as I struggled to stand, gripping the edge of the bed. My hand pressed against the wall for support; my body was drenched in a layer of sweat. Scars settled on my thighs and stomach; in the shadows I could make out the deeper red gashes surrounding my lower hips.

I made it to three steps before my footing gave out and I landed heavily on my knees, accidentally knocking over a clay pot and causing it to shatter on the ground. As I struggled to breathe, I stared at the bloodied pieces of tree bark on a nearby table, and the two muddied chains that had been attached to me, next to a small stone tool.

Suddenly the room seemed to be divided into two, before finally falling back into one. A deep ringing noise settled in my ears, and I rubbed at my temples with both hands.

The sound of rapid footsteps made me glance up. George awkwardly stumbled through the tapestry, his face streaked with red and white paint. In his arms was a big basket full of linen cloths, which he immediately dropped once he saw me shivering and looking at him.

In a trance, I stumbled to my feet.

The startled man took a few steps backwards. Ignoring the deep pain in my calves and shins; very slowly I began to reach out towards his sleeve with my palm. He flinched and drew away. A frightened expression came on his face; something wet gathered in my eyes as I gradually came closer to him, unable to control my breaths. I kept reaching out; he moved back. My hair spilled over my face like a curtain, back, chest, elbows, dangling at the edge of my hips, tangled with leaves and blood and dirt.

Before George could even say a word I threw my arms around him, ignoring the pain shooting through me. I pulled him into a gentle embrace and buried my face in his right shoulder. My dirty fingertips lightly dug against his shirt; the slashes on my shredded back burned as I slowly tightened my grip. A shaky breath came from me; I had forgotten what warm skin felt like. I was hugging a human, a human. He stood there, not sure what to do or say, before twisting and prying himself free, shoving me away as hard as he could. I stumbled backwards.

“Don’t do that. What’s wrong with you?”

My chest tightened up.

"You don’t touch people without their permission. How would you feel if I grabbed you like that? Sit over there,” he ordered. "Now."

I remained still, quietly staring at him. He viciously wiped at his sleeves, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. As he bent down to pick up his basket and set it carefully on the table with a thump, he looked if he was trying to think of something else again, the heavy silence between us filling the air.

A lump of coal broke off in the fireplace.

“You okay?" George asked, pointing to my wounds. He grabbed the blanket from the floor and draped it around my shoulders. "How do they feel?"

I continued to observe him, wondering if he recognized or thought me as someone else. A frown spread across his face as he began to tie bandages on top of the cleaned areas on my skin. He pulled out a faded shirt and pants, placing them next to me. I kept my gaze on him as he got to his feet and made his way to a pot, grabbing a long wooden spoon. The lid clanged loudly when I slowly slid my arm in one of the sleeves.

He gestured to a steaming bowl. “Here.”

I tried to open my mouth to thank him, but my throat was closed up. My fingers were slippery. I struggled to button up the shirt all the way, sweat slightly staining the bandages on my bare chest and stomach. George rubbed his beard for a moment, focusing on the fire as he ladled out a thick brown substance with a large spoon. My arms ached as I yanked the pants on and drew the blanket more tightly around me. He pressed the warm bowl in my hands, along with a thick slice of brown bread.

"You stay here." The man picked up a small sack. "Do not leave this hut. Do you understand?"

He waited for some sort of response, but all I could do was stare at him. An annoyed sigh came from his mouth as he stepped outside; a shadow spilled out on the ground. I raised the bowl to my lips with my shaking hands and took a small bite of the bread, chewing slowly. Hushed voices came from behind the tapestry as I studied the flickering flames. After carefully setting down my soup I limped towards the entrance, leaning my head sideways against the bamboo wall, before slowly sliding down on the ground.

”Is he…awake?”

A moment of hesitation. “Yeah.”

"This isn't a good idea, and you know it. What were you thinking?”

"What was I supposed to do, just let him die?"

There was a slew of curse words. "Why not? He's probably let hundreds of our own meet the same fate. What's the difference with him?"

George closed his eyes.

"Look," Fritz said. "We've seen a few soldiers around here, but this was a whole bloodbath. We go to bed; the next morning we wake up and the field is covered in their frozen bodies. Human remains scattered everywhere next to destroyed warfare. You're telling me you aren't even concerned in the slightest? That he was among them? He could be a soldier for all we know."

I peeked through a small hole in the thatching with my right eye, my heart pounding. The material of the blanket gathered around my lap.

"He wasn't wearing a uniform," George muttered.

His friend swore underneath his breath. "So? That doesn’t matter at all. He's a civilian. He's just as bad as they are. I know you like to say they were driven into this, you know, but everyone makes their own choices. He's going to ruin us all."

"I know." George threw his hands in the air. "I know, I just...just let me figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out."

"I know!"

Fritz pointed at the tapestry. "So why then? I can't keep such a secret from our people for long. They find him here it'll be a disaster. You've got to keep him away before he tries to do something to us. What if he plans to sell one of our children...or our women? What if he brings the soldiers here? That's where you found him, right? It's too risky."

I looked down, his words cutting like knives.

"I just don't enjoy seeing others in pain," George replied, glancing up at the morning sky. "He's a man like me, after all. Though he's real strange."

"How?"

"Well for one thing, he don't talk. He's been knocked out cold for a long while, sometimes crying out in his sleep. He's real young too. Probably got in the wrong crowd or something, I don't know. You know how the inexperienced and stupid ones act. I don't like civilians anymore than you. They will always be my enemy." His hand rested on the knife tied around his waistband. “I don’t intend to keep him here for long. The moment he can stand on his two feet he’ll be out of here. I promise.”

”You should kick him out now. He’s feral. Have you seen his hands? He looks like he eats human flesh. And being completely filthy as he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to attack one of us like the animal he is. Maybe he plans to have us as his prey first. First you, than I, finally all of us. Do you want that?”

My heart shattered.

George sighed. “No doubt he’s been out in the woods for a while. Maybe…maybe he’s not a part of their civilization. Or at least hadn’t been for a long time.”

Fritz shook his head. "It's not worth the risk; it’s best to play it safe. You have a wife who loves you and a baby on the way. Civilians like him would sell you two in a heartbeat. You must put your family first."

His friend made a noise with his throat and squinted his eyes. "You know how the fields around the area were covered in ice and snow? It's just like that in the hill up there, but it's down here now. It’s spreading out and following us, I know it. If the weather is getting this cold, I don't know how it'll be good for our crops. And I have no idea if the vision I had---"

"Yes, yes," the shorter man mumbled. "You've told me a thousand times about hearing a voice in your head.”

”But it was more than that. It was as if…someone was talking to me in a way no one had ever done so before. Internally. To my soul, beyond my mind. It was a whisper, so quiet, but I could hear it. And the ice and the snow— what if it is a spirit, Fritz?”

”Nonsense! I've told you to stop worrying about that. I think at this point, we're all going insane." He patted his comrade's shoulder. "You do what you think is best. I respect you for any decision you make, okay? But I don't want the civilian near anyone here. It's not safe. Think about the people. We're in enough danger as it is." He gestured with his hand once more. "And that thing inside, that is not a…a man. He's not even human; he's nothing like us."

I moved my head from the wall, slowly lowering my hand; his words causing a deep pain to settle on my chest. Naturally he would be terrified of me as I expected; although any little hope at friendship I had was soon crushed. The flames in the small campfire slowly dwindled, glowing hot coals causing the pot of soup to slightly bubble on the surface.

* * * * * * * *

It took me a couple more days before I could walk properly again. Eating and sleeping, which barely mattered to me before in the woods, were now activities I regularly engaged in. More than anything I dreaded the day I would go back there, as the sound of people which had been so rare for me to hear was more visible than ever. Sometimes I would peek through the walls and see them up close, shocked to catch a glimpse of their faces.

At the end of the week George led me out once everyone was asleep. He had given me a small bag of supplies and told me to follow him. I didn't dare look up, bracing myself to walk through the clearing and make my way back towards the woods, to be submerged in the silence that haunted me for so long. To my surprise, he didn't glance at them. Instead, we kept cutting in the midst of all the mud huts in the dark before reaching a cluster of trees.

A large field full of wilted cornstalks met my eyes; the leaves brown and withered. They brushed against our shoulders as we reached the very end; a small wooden shack in great disrepair of some sort sat a few feet away. The man took a deep breath and turned to face me, an irritated look in his eyes. A lump rose in my throat.

"I don't know what your intentions are, but to live here like everyone else you are required to do your part and serve the community. Unlike you, the rest of us don't expect others to pamper us with whatever we want. To eat, you have to work. If you won't, then leave. The last thing we need is more trouble from your…your kind."

I kept my head low.

George grunted as he bent down and picked up a twisted stick, before pointing it at me. "You can go anywhere you'd like around here." He then dragged it across the soil, creating a crooked line. "Step over this boundary, and we have a problem. I don't care if it's even a toe. You violate this one rule, you're not only disrespecting me, but all of us. If I ever catch you in the village or near any one of my people, we will send you on your way from here. You stay the hell away from them. From me. They should not see you, nor should you see them. Got it?”

A long silence passed between us as I stared at the jagged indentation. He turned and pointed to some worn baskets sitting by the wilted steps of the shack.

"I’ll take that as a yes. This crop is not doing so well. Harvest what you can, fill up these up, and leave them at this line so I can pick them up in the mornings. You are free to hunt and get whatever food you can, just stay on your side at all times." George paused and began to walk away. "That's all I ask from you, civilian."

I watched him go, the familiar ache returning to me.

The great oak tree's branches hovered above me, its moss covered, twisted roots crawling on the ground. After removing the dense cobwebs inside the small structure with a stick; I made somewhat of a bed consisting of soft grass and hay inside its small space. Using my teeth, I tore off a small piece of cloth from the material of the bag and tied my hair up into a messy bun that sat upon my head, loose strands sticking out all over the place. Faint scampering filled the air, causing me to turn my head towards the noise.

A small grey squirrel squeaked as it made its way near my bed; its bushy tail sticking up in the air. My fingers felt around in the satchel as his nose began to twitch, sniffing around the dry straw. I got down on my knees and broke off a large chunk of my bread, holding it out with my hand and making a soft clicking noise with my tongue.

It loudly squeaked before scurrying through a crack between the wall and the floor, disappearing in the night. I remained still for a while and slowly lowered my hand, the thick crumbs still visible, before I left a small pile of bread scraps in the corner.

The peeling wooden boards of the front steps of the shack groaned beneath my dirty bare feet as I sat down on the very last one, the empty field in front of me appearing blurry.

Sharp crunching noises caught my attention. I scrambled to stand up, startled to see the entire tread covered in a thick layer of ice. Wanting to get away from the sight, I began to climb up the tree, slipping occasionally on the branches that I grabbed onto that slightly bent under my weight. An aching sensation settled on my joints, but I made it to a good height. Through the cluster of leaves, I could make out a large view of the village; the huts looked tiny. Thousands of stars littered the midnight sky, providing such a significant amount of light on its own.

A leaf landed in my cold palm. I watched as ice spread across its surface, the detailed lines quickly becoming overtaken in the blue hue between my fingers, before burying my head in my arms and hugging my knees.