"Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door"
-Knocking on Heaven's Door, RAIGN
*****
Ash has never been in a place like this.
Every part of Mount Weather feels like it doesn't belong in a world so broken. The halls are too clean. The lights are too bright. The paintings that line the corridors don't look like they were meant to be seen by such perfect people.
She catches a glimpse of herself in one of the glass display cases as she runs. Her reflection is smeared in blood and dirt, not even close to the girl who used to sit in school on the Ark taking diligent notes. That girl is dead.
And this one is running for her life.
Behind her, boots thunder like a stampede. She glances back. Two dozen guards, maybe more. All of them focused on her.
Good. That's the plan.
Another decorative vase shatters against the wall as she throws it behind her, hoping to slow them down. She doesn't even wince this time. Everything in her is locked onto survival.
Her lungs burn. Each inhale feels like dragging air through fire, but she keeps running. A sharp right turn almost sends her skidding, and then there's a door. She slams into it, reaching for the handle. Locked.
She steps back and swears. Loud and angry and tired.
No way out.
She turns. The guards are almost here. Their shouts echo through the hallway, sharp and brutal.
Ash lets the rest of the dishes in her arms clatter to the floor. Her fingers find the hilt of her sword and a knife and curl around them like lifelines. The metal hums with tension. Her breathing slows, then evens out. Controlled. Ready.
If this is where she dies, she'll make it hurt. She'll make sure her people can get out of here safe and sound.
The first of the guards rounds the corner, baton already buzzing with electricity. More follow. They freeze when they see her, twenty-something trained men and women brought to a halt by one young girl with a fresh sword.
For a second, no one moves. All she hears is breathing and the low buzz of a faulty light overhead. It flickers.
"You know," she calls out, her voice rough but steady, "this really doesn't feel like a fair fight. Twenty-something of you. One of me."
"Stand down, girl," one of them commands. Older. His voice firm, almost bored.
Ash shrugs, flashing a grin that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm gonna pass on that."
"Last chance."
She rolls her neck, hears the crack. Her muscles are tight but coiled, not broken. Not yet. Her eyes flick between the soldiers. No guns. They want her alive. Idiots.
"So are we doing this fairly? One by one?" Her voice rises with adrenaline. "Or are we going full-on pileup?"
No one answers. They charge.
Ash moves first.
She ducks the first baton and slices upward. Blood sprays. Someone screams. She steps into the chaos, not away from it, spinning and kicking and swinging like her life depends on it. Because it does.
YOU ARE READING
somewhere | b.blake ✔️
Fanfiction"somewhere there's peace, they just have to find it." in which a girl whose smile is the brightest of them all finds herself falling in love with a curly haired boy on a planet that isn't supposed to be survivable. [SEASONS ONE TO TWO COMPLETED] hig...
