**CURRENTLY A FEATURED STORY**
highest ranking: #11 in Science fiction
❝true happiness is only achieved without freedom.
There is a girl who wakes to a world that she was supposed to protect. Instead, she fights it.
There is a man who is cursed wit...
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evanna
The Red Hand's headquarters are truly unlike anything I've ever seen before. Not that I've seen much of grottos and caves and hidden communities, but this is truly impressive. In the darkness grows a small population of moderately intelligent human beings, that know what the government of Tetrahmon has in store for the people- and that, already, in itself, is something.
There are lights that illuminate an entire underground village, built in what seems to have been an underground grotto. I can see stalactites overhead, but any water that was down here seems to have frozen over. Unless if there's a currently active river, which I doubt.
Strings of lightbulbs looped around poles and makeshift shelters of cloth and any other structures cast a soft orange glow over the entire place. Small fires had been built, where people sat huddled around, wound up in blankets.
"Impressive," I comment, as Julian falls into step with me. Julian gives me their first genuine smile.
"Anyways, this is not where you're gonna be staying- not for the moment, anyways. Not until we find out a little more about you." I feel unsettled by this, but I don't say anything about it.
"You mean, you want to find out how many girls I've kissed, is that it?"
Julian lets out a snort of laughter. "Not quite. Hear that, Francis?" They call towards the back. Francis replies with a grunt.
"I like your sense of humour," Julian says, and I give them an attempted, albeit bitter, smile.
"So, where are you taking me?"
"Head office." Julian steps over a person sleeping in our path, and I follow suit. I have the impression that they're not going to tell me more about it until we get there, so I don't ask any more questions. I know what the head office is the moment I see it. It's the only thing in this entire encampment that looks like an actual building- it's more of a wooden house, chalet-like, except doubtlessly less sturdy but it's still a building. A light is apparent from the loft at the top of it, glowing gently through the grimy window panes that cover nearly an entire wall.
The entrances to the building are flanked by armed members of the Red Hand; hanging sheets, dirtied but distinguishably patterned differently act as doors. These soldiers don't resemble those that I've killed in the slightest - they're poorly protected, wearing only layers to protect themselves from the cold, but against bullets, or tranquilliser darts, their garments wouldn't do them much good. Essentially, they're dressed like every other civilian in Prague: with the clothes that they have left. I don't think that everyone has had enough time to recover from whatever happened here. I struggle to regain my memories, but they don't come back.
"In here," Julian says, pulling back the curtain-like doors. They nod to the guards, who eye me with suspicion. I stare back coldly. "She's with me," Julian snapped. "Now get the fuck in here, Evanna, before they decide to shoot you."
