The night did not wait or care for the sleepless. They lingered on the cusp of slumber, but the cold biting air and the nightmares of slaughter kept them from rest. Wherever they looked it was the reminder that their lives are forfeit, and they could do nothing but to surrender to the cruel future that awaited them. However, even though they had given up, there was a lone girl who refused to let them waste away. She would save them. She would see that they saw peace. She would find them a haven so that they would no longer fear.
Rana knew it wouldn’t happen. It was not that it was impossible. It was simply a predetermined outcome because of the choices that already had been and also would be made. That was reality. What would happen was not a game of chance, it was the outcome of various decisions, and some paths were simply paths of no return.
She pinched the bridge of her nose to distract herself from what was about to happen. There would be a time of lamentations and anger in the future, but for now. The dice was already cast and the numbers were already revealed to her. She only had to make sure it remained as such. To scheme was to ensure that the numbers favored the schemer, and to ensure no one meddled in the dice until the moment of its reveal, where the conclusion could no longer be altered. That was the essence of plotting. The enemy had to be kept in the dark, and sometimes even her allies.
The raiders were already drunk and asleep, the adrenaline they built up already waning and giving in to the one of the basest of human desire. To dream the world away, to be brought into fantasy and forget their utterly worthless existence. What they muttered and grumbled in their sleep, how their lips crooked into disgusting grins, made no mistake what they were thinking of.
If she had the power, she would grant them the mercy of death this very instant. There was no reason to let them continue to wallow in their depravity. It did not matter if they did not realize the sadness of the state they found themselves in. Ignorance did not change reality. However, she had no such power as of this moment. Their judgment would come, and their punishment would be eternal.
Rana strode from wall to cover, from shadow to even darker corners. The lookouts in the bunkers were already dead, but that did not mean the coast was clear. Not all of the raiders were taken fully by their sleep. Some were plagued by nightmares induced by their guilt, but most of them simply were not able to relish in their cruelty enough. However, they were not the ones that she needed to be the most cautious about. It were the ones with a mark that she needed to beware of at all times. The three squad leaders were fast asleep, and their status meant they had the priority to indulge the most of whatever they desired of the most, but the mark still gave them an acute awareness of their surrounding. The slumbering were usually helpless, but without knowing their Status she had to be careful. The two advisors were also only just beginning to return to their quarters, and it was unknown when they would retire for the night. It was ironically the guard of the enemy captain that was the least to be worried about. They were far away from where the preparations took place.
She was not Jessica, and even the rogue-class marked one would find it difficult to traverse without notice unless the utmost care was taken. However, Rana has something other girl did not, and that was her sense of smell. She was a zombie, and it would not be difficult for her to track the condition of the humans surrounding her. She could tell when she was close to detection, and when the unseen marked ones had their consciousness drifted away. It was sometimes a curse, but it was a gift she would use to the fullest extent.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
She turned into a large building in the distance. It used to be a sleeping quarter for soldiers, but now, the raiders turned into a holding cell for the defeated. She could smell the fear within even at such a distance. There was one, however, that caught her attention. The walls were tall and tough, and its relatively stable condition made it perfect for a place to chain prisoners. It was not a place that was easily escaped. The problem was that even though there were no marked ones among the prisoners, the security was still too lax. It was although true that escape was difficult, but it was not like it could not be achieved by a collective effort of the determined. The argument she could see made by such a placement of guards was that any attempt would eventually rouse the sleeping raiders, but why risk a good night’s rest? That was unless they didn’t have to risk people sneaking about.
Rana strolled to the building and leaned her back against its walls. She doubted anyone would be able to see her, but it was nonetheless safer to be more cautious. She had to kill a raider droning off while stumbling to a place to relieve himself. Now, the one thing left was to lure her target outside. She slid across the wall and senses the prisoners within with her smell. It was fear, anger, sadness, but most dominantly it was dejection. It was a group of people who had already given up. That was, except for one individual. She found him.
She tapped on the wall. It was a sound that only the people within could hear but only one person would care about. To the prisoners, it was a sound of raiders, their captives, and it was best to ignore it. She did not know whether it was out of a sense of self-preservation or from a cowardice denial that did not want to face reality, but it suited her just fine. She waited, and then Gregory’s face showed up at a caged window.
“Keep your voice down,” Rana said and quickly placed a finger onto his lips. “We have a place to break out every prisoner, but we need your cooperation. I unlocked a hidden back door and neutralized the guards. Try to leave without alerting the other prisoners.”
Gregory only nodded and he began to quietly slink back into the crowd of other male prisoners. Rana then skipped to the back of the building and waited for Gregory to crawl out of the back exit. The man was beaten and bruised, but he was still capable enough to walk and speak.
“Rana, why are you doing here? Is Jessica alright? I feared for the worst when I saw what the raiders did to her,” Gregory said. He was frantic and his eyes darted in every direction. “I’m actually surprised they left me alive. I got hit by a club but the helmet protected me. It only gave me a concussion. Too bad they took my helmet. I’ll do anything to help. What do you need from me?”
She grabbed Gregory by the throat and lifted him up against the wall. The man choked as his life was being squeezed out of his widened eyes. He was not a marked one, and when facing the strength of a mark, he was nothing but a helpless child. He tried to speak, whether to plea for his life or to call for help she didn't know, but the only sound coming out of his mouth were the dying gasps of air of a man who was turning blue in the face. She had no interest in that sound. There was only one thing she needed.
Rana smiled at him.
“I want you to die.”