Your legs pick up speed as you run for the boy. 

There's a thumming in your heart and thinking this little boy could loose his life at such a young age makes you tear through the remaining foot of space separating the killer/prey from your body. 

One. 

Two. 

You lift your blade high in the air, slamming it as fast and rough as you can into the killer's area. 

Silence follows...A silence that allows your heart to calm it's thumps and a silence that allows you to see past the wrong you just did. 

You have your eyes shut. You didn't feel any blood splatter over your skin. You didn't hear anything sliced.
But you hit something hard...How is it that- You slowly open your eyes, reganing focus from the darkness behind your eyelids, to look around the area. There's nothing in sight, from before. The father figure isn't lying on his back anymore. The killer isn't there. The boy is no longer there. 

There's nothing there. A creeping sensation flutters in your stomach. A sickening tumble, in your thighs, follow suit. 

But you still have that dreaded sense in your heart that the boy still lives, only they will torture him. Laugh at him. Abuse him. 

Not on your own accord, you walk over to the area where the dead body lay. The smart looking one. You kneel down where he let the package of loaves drop on his way down to hell and pick them up silently. You stab one of the loaves with your sword and pluck it out of the bag. In your head your screaming, cursing yourself out, shouting at the world. For one you just lost an innocent life- no two. For another, you don't know what to do.  Your mind isn't functioning correctly. It lifts you up on it's own accord, walking you over to the area where the guy lays dead. His body is melding with the concrete, the blood infusing itself into the tiny cracks and crevices of the dirty concrete. His limbs are drying up or already lay, dry and crimpled from the lack of support his body once gave to function properly. Your hands lift and without thinking you slam the swords tip where the bread lays, into the area of his heart.

Content. 

Happy. 

Heaven...

Those are words that will be condemned from your heart. But what drove you to do it? Why would you do that when clearly he's already rotting in hell. How far is madness wrapping its frozen hands around your heart before clenching it tight until all circulation is cut off. 

I hope. I sincerely hope that this loave of bread can be enough to last you your whole existence down there in hell. Rot. That is what I want to hear from you. 

You pull the sword out, slamming it down into the pavement. Smirking, you turn to retrieve the 

You hear a stiffled moan. You can't tell where it's coming from because your thoughts are blanked out to all the wrong you've done-and let happen-today. 

You recall the tainted words of strangers from before: "What's more important. Your own life or that of a commoners?"

"You yourself have to think your royalty to succeed in this pathetic life. In your own eyes, everyone else are servants to you. You live for NO ONE."

"The Gods can't help. Only you can for yourself."

Lies, you think as you silently raise the sword from his heart, pulling it back out. A small trickle of blood leaks out as your sword slices through.

The bread stays still atop the bleeding area before the current of flowing blood pushes it off, sliding it slowly down the long trail of another river of his blood. 

The blood on your own sword glistens in the lights reach as you turn to grab the remaining bread. 

Suddenly as your squatting down to retireve the food, a fire illuminates the entirety of the citys block. You look up, frantically searching for the cause. As you do, you see a horse quickly trotting down the trail to the Kingdom, a few soldiers trailing behind. On the horse is a figure holding a torch lit with fire but from the looks of it, it's just another commander, searching for future soldiers. 

You grab the bag, running as fast you can back into the citys limits. Not once do you look back at the horse. At the person riding it. At the history that awaits your fragile life.

Not looking where your headed you crash right into someone, falling and flipping into the stubbly dirt, as you black out temporarily.

---------------------

A figure slams you down into the ground as you try and regain your legs movements. The impact of crashing into the ground sends a numbness tingling through your legs. He's smirking as his hands search the dark area for the smell of something. 

Ah, I'm only a few paces away. How can I loose him? 

He's searching to snatch the food from you. You struggle, trying to kick him or flip him over but he has the bottom half of your body pinned down with his heavy, wide hips and your hands pinned down with his right hand. 

Finding the stash he throws it over the trench, lifting you up as he wraps his body around you. 

Your body tenses. He can't possibly be thinking of doing that now can he. 

He whispers into your ear, "Lucky me. I get bread and you. I have been craving both things lately." He grabs your back, sliding you further down to his growing . 

Just than you hear a horse neigh and a group of soldiers running your way, guns and armor ed forward as if to say "I'm here." (Now die.) 

------------------

"Well who on earth do we have hear?" A voice calls out. You can't see. Everything's black. The ground looks like it's retreating under your feet. You furrow your eyebrows, remembering these aren't normal soldiers. Which can only mean someone from the Kingdom is here to pay the town a visit. On one of those stupid orders to gather more people for their army. The one where eventually they'll be used to kill at the orders of those in higher ranking. The charge? Nothing, just fight for their country at all costs. In return if they come back to live, they will be treated to security by the Kingdom's people.  

Bidding. 

Brooding. 

Don't they both mean the same damn thing. 

You hear a horse neigh before stomping it's feet on the ground. The sound of metal jingling and material ruffling sounds through the air. You try your best to catch a glimpse at the person who hopped off the horse but when you try and lift your head off the ground, the soldier who has your hair in a tight lock pushes your head down more. You grunt, pushing the sense back to just punch him in his balls. Sure how much can it hurt? 

Seconds pass, minutes, it seems like forever until you hear a loud laugh. One of those laughs you would hear in nightmares; the cynical, blood-thirsty ones. The ones that crave for death or torture if you don't hail down before them. Your skin crawls. Your imagining in your head that he must be one of those fat, grumbling and -craving Kingdomers but say nothing. They're all just thoughts, afterall. 

You hear someone say out loud: 

"This ! This , here. Ha, the fool probably can't do more than wipe away the trash from the bathrooms. Control a sword?" Laughter fills all throughout the dark alley until a figure silences everyone by saying "Hush. All of you now. I'm the one who will deicde if she's befitting to come." Silence follows.

This man must be powerful than.  

A torch illuminates the dark area like in the city square. It's funny seeing how the fire is provided so easily now, at the snap of that man's fingers but not when you need it at serious times like childbirth. Damn fools, you silently whisper. The soldier hurting your head kicks your back, saying through gritted teeth to shut up.  The pile of smoke his 

A man with white boots, encrusted with gold flowers near the top, walks towards you. As he nears you see the bottom top of his cape swirl in the air. You struggle to lift your head once more. The soldier only shoves your face, inches away from the dirt to show you just how worthy the being standing in front of you is. Not to play around, just don't because this is serious business. To not see or to see? Which one is it, this damn bastard, you think. 

Suddenly, as if commanded, he releases your hair, feet scuffling as he steps back. The pile of smoke he scuffled with his boots, gathers near your face an you cough as the foul smell enters your nostrils and reaches your lungs.

An loud "Yes, Sir, Your Majesty!" follows his movements as he turns to face the other troops. He shouts back at them with a thunderous voice to "Prepare the room! Another one's coming!"

Another one? Another who? You want to ask but keep your mouth shut. 

KiBummie's face rushes back into your head, and you stand.

I have to get back. He just doesn't deserve to die. I can't leave him alone. I won't. 

You slide back and forth as you stand; trying to regain your balance. You still don't look up to face the nemesis. But you catch sight of his feet approaching you more. You look to your side and see there's the same soldier from the arena perched to the ground, gun raised at you. Like you are some sort of a loose animal, craving blood. 

Just than do you remember your stained with blood, and your brain feels nauseated. Your stomach grows with a sickness, until you can feel yourself throwing up in the floor. 

A "Master!" flows out of the soldier's mouth, followed by a silence. Only the torch burning away at the sound of wood is heard; the crackling. 

No response.

"No." A softer voice speaks. One you would think belongs to a vailant prince. One that wouldn't belong here in this world where laws are rules. Where those rules are cruel and unfair. 

He keeps speaking saying, "Won't you look at me?" His voice is melodic. It's sweet but with a touch of curiosity. Or is that my sick, uncontrollable mind playing games on me again?

You keep staring at the ground, looking out over the tiny dirt pebbles that have formed there from the harsh weather conditions. They look at you with a dull color like your the only one that can save them. 

"Save me! Save me!" You replay in your mind. That's what everyone wants. Someone to save them. 

Suddenly an ear shattering scream erupts from the madness of the torches flames. You smell burned skin. You hear..

"Please! Stop. No. I'm just another person wanting to feed his-Ahhhh noooo."

Your heart breaks into a million shards before you have the opportunity to look over in the direction of the incoming voice. You only have a chance to catch glimpse of what they're doing to him. From your eyes you saw fire..body.. skin ripping, curling, before falling off.  

"You're burning him aren't you!?" 

The man with white boots only stiffles a nonchalant laugh as he reaches out to grab your arm. You pull back, not bothering to look at him before you cry out, "STOP! You'll kill him."

The soldiers turn to look at you, as the man lies on the floor, fire erupting from his body. He's a substitute for the wood now. 

They all laugh that rough laugh once more before returning to their evil doings. You open your mouth to speak once more but a hand grabs your chin, roughly pushing you away from looking in that direction. 

Your met with a set of luscious brown eyes and that same sweet voice, only with more authority. "You. Look at me when I speak to you. Hear me out when I talk to you. And above all who are you to care about anyone else. Your all the same aren't you." His last sentences strikes a nerve and you raise your hand to slap him but he's quicker. He pushes it back, twisting it slightly. You cry out in pain, coughing as the smell of more burned skin envelops your lungs.

The man smirks. He pushes you into a wall, ing his hands into the walls. Although he's wearing white gloves he rubs them on each side of you before speaking. "Now. That man. Don't worry about him. He'll pay for his crimes with death. Now unless you want to be in the same situation, you'll come with us." 

He takes one of his gloved hands and roughly grabs your chin again. His face is only inches away from yours as he whispers to you, "Maybe a little self-discipline from you and you'll learn to." 

He slaps his hands down onto the crumbling wall causging it to shake. He stares back at you for awhile before he pulls himself off. He's already walking back to his horse, gearing up to head back to the castle when the final cry of the man who tried to you sounds throughout the eerie air. 

The man who rides the horse is no longer clearly visible from where you stand so you can only take in what you remember of how he looks. Gorgeous. More than gorgeous. A fairytale character straight out of the book.

But who is he? Surely he isn't a peasant. Not with clothes like that and soldiers at his command. How come I've never seen him before? I thought there were only 10 commanders, for the division of Seoul. What's he got in store for me? 

So many questions in too little time. 

Your brain only takes in the situation after a soldier marches your way, rope in his hand. He's got this sick smile on his face like he's going to abuse you. 

The dead body, how he tried to you, the-... but above all the question why does he want you? Why does such a gorgeous man need such a defenseless girl like you? Is he taking you back to be a slave? Why does he want me? 

Soldiers surround you on each side. 

Before you can remember what they're doing, or how they got you in the back of the cart, your already heading up the trail to the Kingdom's grounds. The floor is bumpy, and from the looks of it, dawn is approaching. Just how long were you out there.

KiBum's face sticks in your conscious like a prickly pinecone. But the why does that handsome man want you? Who is he? Are the questions that reappear in your mind more than they should.

Why?

Why?

Why...

He's like a rose with thorns. Prickly and deadly but beautiful.

So what do you think? Is it good? Bad? I would like constructive criticism. :) 
IF it's not too much to ask from you guys. (hehe)