I knew I was in trouble. Behind enemy lines, chained naked to a wall, awaiting my death. I wasn't supposed to be here. My plan was perfect.
Everything about it was perfect, and it was supposed to go off without a hitch. Everyone had their assigned duties, and everyone knew what was at stake. This newest assault was supposed to shake up the supes, let 'em know we weren't fucking around with them.
We're not all just spineless cattle waiting in line for the slaughter or a bunch of pansy-ass kissers willing to sell out our own kind for a measly breadcrumb from those ungodly monsters.
Aww man, it was a beautiful fucking plan. We were going to attack at dawn when they would be most vulnerable. I had everything accounted for; everything except Jonah, that fucking traitorous, murdering son of a bitch.
I'd known him for the past two years and trusted him! He was one of us. He ran missions with us, got down and dirty with us. Fuck, he even came up with our perfect plan that we were supposed to complete this morning… of course now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't his plan at all.
Normally, my instincts are spot on, fucking legendary if I may say so myself, and I can spot a "mark" or a "stain" also known as "mole" a mile away. I'd know right away not to trust themI could see their weakness in their eyes, how they'd avert their gazewhen put on the spot.
I'd be able to tell the warriors from the cowards just by how they reacted when the shit hit the fan.
However, Jonah bested me. I'll give it to him since it's the last thing I'll do, apparently. That sly-ass motherfucker was good at hiding his true self. He fooled me like it was nobody's business.
Fucker cost the lives of six of my best soldiers, rebels, upstarts, nonconformists or whatever the fuck you wanted to call us.
They didn't deserve to die and especially not
because of him. As for all the name-calling they labeled us, I wore all the titles proudly because they meant I'd die standing on my fucking feet and not cowering or groveling on the ground.
We were bad-ass, too. There were many pockets of Resistance factions all around the city and country, hell even the world. Some lasted longer than others, like mine. We played our hand smart. We never stayed in one place too long and kept really low profiles.
We were going strong for six months, evading shady humans willing to turn us over for a "better life" and the supes tracking us down, which was no easy feat.
Imagine trying to hide from something that can see in the dark with hella awesome vision. Or hear a sound from a mile away? And if they catch your scent… shit, if that happens, you better have a fucking plan. If you don't, you're dead. We knew we were high risk, but we knew what we were doing, too.
Our mission was just! We'd cost a fair amount of damage to their organizations and even saved some humans that were no doubt going off to the slaughter. Today's attack was supposed to be our biggest success.
Now it was our greatest failure. Fucking Jonah! I wonder how long it took him to betray us? Was he always selling us out or did they seduce him with the promise of riches and position? I'll never know, I suppose.
I tried to rotate my shoulders a bit to ease the stiffness in my muscles and was only able to move a little thanks to the chains. I listened carefully to the muffled voices outside my dark room and could hear two guards conversing with each other on the other side of the door.
I couldn't make out what they were saying, which was pissing me off more than the
darkness or the muscle pain in my arms, after having them bound over my head for the past five hours.
This predicament fucking sucks. I didn't need a witch to tell me my fortune; I'm considered an "enemy to the regime".
They'd do me in even if they didn't have a mountain of evidence against me. The illegal television broadcasts, sure, I hid my face and disguised my voice, but they knew it was me, thanks to Jonah. Then there was the illegal radio broadcast, in which, sometimes I did not disguise my voice.
There were the countless flyers rallying against them, vandalism and arsons of
some major supe businesses. I wanted to hit those fuckers where it hurt, and I did, especially the vampires.
Vampires, they were at the top of the food chain and weren't anything nice. Forget the bullshit you've read in those paranormal romance books where the vampires with dark pasts are all noble and shit and just want to fall in love with their soul mates.
Fuck that shit. If you believe they're like
that, you're already dead. The vampires in my reality are cruel, vicious, manipulative, brutal and blood-thirsty, and that has nothing to do with their hunger, which, by the way, is damn near insatiable. They were the ones who wanted to come out of the shadows ten years ago.
I was only fourteen at the time and had no idea supernatural creatures even existed.
That was the shit you saw in movies, hell, they even sparkled in the fucking world of fiction.
The vampires in my reality don't fucking sparkle, twinkle, or glow in the dark… unless you count their eyes, and that's only when they want them to.
These vampires are a force to be fucking reckoned with, and if they weren't enough, you have the werewolves, and the dragons. Fucking dragons for God's sake! Yes, they do breathe fire, but they don't turn all scaly, at least none I've ever seen does. They do feed off sex like some incubus or succubus, hence the brothels I would have happily bombed if not for the innocent humans inside.
Werewolves get off on pain and fear, and that was their most charming quality. Let's not forget they enjoy the taste of flesh. All three of these factions wanted control of
the world, and they were intelligent, and brutal enough to take it. So they banded together to strike first.