Journey
Flames easily overtook the wooden shack, tearing down the pantry sized bedrooms in minutes. All of the family’s most cherished belongings, including heirlooms and saved money hidden under the floorboards were melted or turned to ash. Chunks of blackened lumber dropped from the roof, landing with a dull clunk. Among the roaring flames, the small living room sat slanted, clouded by a thick fog that smelled of burning paper. With a crippling thud, the wrinkled body bounced hard against the floor, landing in a deformed fetal position. Crimson blood oozed from a deep flesh wound to the stomach, soaking the shirt of the elderly woman. Color was draining from her sagging face rapidly. The blow to her body left her feeling numb and cold. It took all of her strength just to roll over; her watery eyes gazed into the petrified face of her violet haired granddaughter.
“Flee, Child!” She muttered hoarsely as she spat up blood.
Though in the midst of the heat, cold sweat trickled down her cheeks; her breath was halved and her chest raced. Only a few feet away from the dying body, the teenage girl stood absolutely terrified, remaining in the shadowy corner, her stomach sour, her pale limbs weak. Directly across from the elder, the two bulky swordsmen turned to the girl, chuckling maliciously. The sheer size of just one of the men alone blocked the only exit of the living room. Fully stepping into burning room, Amora could see their squared faces twisted into crooked grins, their beady eyes shone with murderous intent. Bearded, bald, and dressed in worn down full body emerald armor, ragged cloaks hung loosely from their shoulders as they approached the girl, unsheathing their bloodstained swords.
“Looks like we forgot to take care of one small problem, right Shane?” One swordsman spoke, cool and intelligent. An ugly scar stretched from his temple to his hairy chin, revealing no pupil in one eye. The other growled in agreement.
“Ya damn skippy Mac,” Shane retorted in raspy voice, a full set of sliver teeth gleamed in the fiery light. “Ya know how I hate unfinished missions, so let’s get on with it!”
“Flee… Amora!” her grandmother gritted, before becoming motionless. Amora whimpered, swallowing loudly. The two men slowly continued to close in on her, leaving her trapped and soon to be dead. She squealed, falling to her knees, pressing herself against the wall.
“Don’t worry girly, you’ll be joining that ol’ crusty bitch in a minute, so just stay still. The pain will be quick.” Shane grinned widely before he and Mac lunged, bellowing at the top of their lungs. Amora shrieked, feeling her heart skip a beat………………………
With a gasp, Amora awakened, her eyes creating the sound of ripping paper as she opened them. Inhaling quick breaths, she became aware that her body was drenched in the same cold sweat as before. She felt it trickling down her pale skin, soaking her tank top. She shivered as a breath of cool air brushed her arm. It was just a dream… she thought to herself, half relieved.
The only unsettling thing about the nightmare was the frightening realization that the event actually happened. Amora was now an orphan, the sole survivor of an invasion that annihilated her entire town. Everyone she ever known, including her family, in all of her fifteen years of living was dead. She no longer had a past or a future to look forward to, nor any place to go. The thought brought tears to her eyes and made her stomach drop. She buried her face into the bed sheets
