Against all odds (The Pack)

Chapter 15

Warnings: Sad, Blood, Trigger warning? There's a death.

~Mitch's P.O.V.~

     It's quiet.

     The last of the fire is burning out, and everyone is peacefully sleeping. It seems not even the mobs care to call to one another tonight.

     My eyes flicker around the warm, yet dimly lit space. Vikk still hasn't woken up yet, and he's leaned up against a corner, restrained by ropes. Jerome is curled up in the opposite corner to Vikk, wrapped up in his blankets, snoring quietly. Preston and Rob are on the opposite side of the room, their beds also in opposite corners, theirs chests rising and falling at a steady pace. I poke the embers of the fire with the tip of my sword, gazing into the red hot coals. They promised to find me a bed soon, but for now I have to sleep on the floor. But I don't want to sleep-not yet. There's too many thoughts running around in my head to do that.

     Why don't I just kill them all? I find myself thinking, subconsciously twisting my diamond sword in my hands. It'd be quick. Easy. They're asleep, so there's no chance I'd have to fight very hard. Then I could go home. I could go back and see my dad. See my friends. I could forget this ever happened... Tell everyone that I was captured, but I bravely fought them off to loyally return to my people. Then everything would be normal-I could live a happy life. At least... As happy as it can be with a war raging on.

     I sigh, brining my knees up to my chest.

     So why don't I?

The question lingerings in my mind, occupying my every thought. Maybe it's because Jerome saved my life? But then again he, along with Rob and Preston, kidnapped me. So it draws out kinda even there. Besides, it's not like people haven't saved my life before. Maybe it's because they're nice to me? Even after I insulted Preston. But that can't be it either, because I have just as many people who are nice to me back in the Rouge kingdom. Is it because of some weird destiny thing you read about in fairy tales and stuff? No, it can't be... I don't believe in that kind of stuff. Ugh, I'm so confused.

Letting out a quiet cry of frustration, I ball my hand into a fist, and pound it against the ground so hard it draws blood. Hissing in sudden pain and regret, I reel my hand back, examining it in the dim firelight. A single trickle of blood rolls down my knuckles, tumbling over the side, and landing in the dirt silently. And suddenly, it comes to me.

~Flashback- 3rd P.O.V.~

"Mommy, mommy look!"

A 10 year Mitch eagerly prances up to his mother, a specially made little bow clutched in his stubby fingers. The Queen directs her attention to the small boy, a sweet smile lighting her face. Checking to make sure his mom is watching, little Prince Mitch turns and loads an arrow into his bow, pulling back the sting as far as his frail arms can manage. Mitch sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth, one eye closing, and then real easing the string. The arrow flies away, spinning and wobbling slightly, but still strong nonetheless. It lands on the ground a fair bit away, and Mitch turns to his mom with wide innocent eyes.

"Oh very good Mitchell." His mom beams, chuckling and clapping her hands together lightly. "You'll make a fine archer one day."

Mitch smiles brightly at his mom, proud of his small accomplishment. And then, another arrow flies.

But Mitch didn't shoot this one.

It came from above, up in the rafters of the spacious throne room, whizzing down at lightning speed and plunging directly into the Queens chest. Everything freezes for a split second, Mitch's eyes wide in confusion and shock as his mother flops limply to the ground, instantly dead. He doesn't care to look at the figure darting away, instead, his eyes are drawn to the pool of blood gathering underneath his mom.

"M-mommy?" Mitch utters, not quite comprehending what happened, since it happened so quickly.

Time seems to to warp as suddenly explosions are ringing out, voices are shouting, and frantic guards are bursting into the room. Shoving his way through, the King lets out a cry of horror as he witnesses his wife's lifeless body, sprawled on the ground, the polished diorite stained with blood.

"Clementine! No!" He screams, tears streaming down his face as he stumbles to her side, rolling her onto his lap.

Mitch, through teary eyes, can't see what's happening. He's screaming for his mom as a diamond clad guard solemnly scoops him up, brining him away from the scene. Mitch thrashes and squirms in the guards arms, his futile attempt to calm Mitch doing nothing.

The last thing he sees is the glazed over eyes of his mom, an arrow protruding from her heart.

~~~

As the tears streak down my cheeks, I know why I'm not killing them. This war took my mom away from me. The one who was always there for me, no matter the trouble. She cared for me, held me when I cried, and nurtured me. This war took her away from me, and that's the reason I want this war to end. I want to stop all the killing-not continue it. And, although there's only four, possibly five, of us... This is the best shot I have at doing it.

And not to mention... Jerome, Rob, Preston, and Vikk (if he decides to join us)... They have family too. I know little to nothing about them, and their pasts, but I bet that at least one of them has a past similar to mine. Which, later, I find to be true.

That's why I can't kill them.

And it's why I silently vow to myself, right here and now, to devote myself to stopping this war along side them, even if it costs me my own life.

And with those thoughts in mind, I curl up in a ball on my side, and sleep.

~~~
Question of the chapter:

Reactions?

My answer: I feel so mean now ;-;