One

Authors notes: Boy does it take a hell of a long time for someone to care enough to post a review. Thank you anonymous… guy…. Anyway this I the second chapter and if your good I’ll give you third. It gets better later on… trust me… I’m nice… I help old ladies across the street… Please review. Thank you. Enjoy.

I wake up. Not where I fell asleep, not in an abandoned hospital, not under a bed where I’m easily protected from a flying black face by a magical light. I wake up to another white light. I sit up (my up) immediately and hear someone yell ‘he’s awake!’ I’m sitting on a wooden bench in a warehouse full of kids working and building… things. To this site I think ‘sweat shop?’ and the children crowd around. The boys and girls sit around whispering and staring. Whispering “it’s him!” Whispering “that’s who we’ve been waiting for!” Whispering “that’s One!” You can imagine my confusion.
An old man marches through the crowd (no confetti) telling the kids to make way, saying excuse me. The old man reaches me and greets me by saying “elephant, I am Three!” He lost me at hello, which he didn’t even say, he replaced it with elephant. The old man wore a brown robe tied at the waist (as opposed to…?), used a cane to help him walk, was bald and had a grayish white beard. Stop me if this sounds familiar.
Here in this warehouse full of wide-eyed kids that appear to be the same age as me he speaks to inform me. Saying “you must be One.”
To which I reply “W-wah?”
“I know you must be confused me and the other select children were” his voice was strong and deep
“…” Of course I responded in silence what am I supposed to say?
“Let me get you out of here you are better than this-these kids aren’t worthy of your company.” He says before shouting “who brought him here!?”
“I did” a quiet voice answer him from some where behind him. The man turns and so does the children allowing me a clear view of my rescuer. Another kid with shaggy hair, wearing rags and had feet… and had feet wrapped in bloody bandages. He was sitting alone on a table.
“Why would you place him amongst these filthy creatures? Why didn’t you bring him to me?” He’s about as angry as I am confused.
“W-well, it’s just that you were asleep and didn’t want to be disturbed and my feet-”
“My slumber can be interrupted by certain situations such as this one. Do you understand me?”
“But my feet were…”
“Hmph, selfish.” He says, “You’re messing with the future of mankind and you’re complaining about your feet?”
“With all due respect sir, I don’t see the harm.”
To this the man, three, walk over to the boy and calmly, swiftly, strongly slaps the kid across the face. A loud smack echoes through the warehouse followed by the loud thump as the kid hit the floor.
“Think for yourself next time” Three says and comes back to me grabbing me by the hand without saying a word and leads me to a door towards our right and through the crowd. As I leave I notice how all the children were only dressed in rags and how dirty they all looked. I look back (my back) at my red-footed rescuer on the floor. He’s holding himself up on one shoulder and looking at the sample of blood on his fingers from inside his mouth and then at me. He looks at me with angry eyes, hateful eyes. The red that’s climbing up between his teeth and tumbling over his lower lip reminds me of a different set of eyes and I realize that I owe my life to him. That’s about the time that we reached the doors.

Author’s …other…notes: yeah… it gets better…. But please review and tell me what you think or else you won’t find out about how it gets good and what not.