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Under the Red Sky
Well, this seems interesting.
Crap.
The putrid air of Alonia made her lungs writhe, as if pseudo-anaphylaxis had set in due to the aerobic toxins brought by war, death, and bloodlust. The Gannur's endless perquisition to capture the last of her unit continued, and their foul ordor and filth filtered the black air of the fallen city. She dare not choke or make any noise that would reveal her, or others, within the crumbled stone labyrinth, despite all biological necessities. The spurious night's looming charm continued to haunt, as did the trudging mass of silhouettes beneath the shimmering moon. The shadow army slithered across the stone hedges; the hunt moving. Clutching her chest, she drew in the venomous atmosphere and fled, her black skin making her virtually invisible in the pervasive darkness.

She was beginning to lose hope. Three days without a word, without success, without escape. She always hoped for the best, but expected worse. The dead lie scattered from the war, and others more fresh from a recent capture, becoming martyrs for different and varying reasons. It seemed that death may be more evident than she originally thought, but that wasn't the pinnacle of her cognitive assessments. Dying wasn't an option, simply, and she wouldn't allow the message to the neighboring town not to be received. Relaying the message of the secret invasion was the main objective, saving the innocent was a by-product of the first objective, and furthermore, kicking a** and getting bonus pay was doubly deserved for the current vacation in Gannurville.

She needed a way out. Focus, she reminded herself. Allowing a momentary calm to settle; she surreptitiously lurked behind the ruins of a bakery and constructed a mental map, primarily of guesswork where the mining tunnels would connect at town points and blockades of Gannur could be located. The main entrance was blocked with Gannur, along with the entrance her unit had used. The obvious exits would be blocked. She thought, running her fingers through her ivory hair in an analytic quest for an answers. Breathing lightly, she sighed, and peered through the stone cracks. The mountainous pursuers were moving slower than usual, as if retracing their steps.

Pausing briefly from her mental excavation, she watched, wondering what the next military strategy would be. The bilious aroma filled her nostrils. The mass assembled not far from her dismantled bakery. The movement ebbed, and the eternal wait for something to stir the attention of the hairless wonders began its futile game once more. She needed to regroup, and knew that the rest of the unit would try to escape through the mining shafts. Although escaping the Gannur and getting to any shaft would be near impossible, but getting stuck in a shaft could be worse than meeting face to face with a Gannur, one would at least have the opportunity to escape if the latter occurred oppose to a dead-end or a tunnel collapsing.

The suicide plan seemed to have the most likely of possibilities, and she smirked at the irony. She covered herself with a cloak, concealing herself with fabric and stone. Luckily, she could wait for a very long time, too, until the shadows move again; then, the tables would turn, hopefully, dammit.





 
 
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