6.1
11/6/2009
It was only the morning after the attack on Hoodsdale, and already the city was in turmoil.
The first intruder had been bad enough; now, a full-blown attack had transpired.
12 were found dead. Hundreds were injured.
But unlike before, the streets were packed.
Everyone was out, some brandishing makeshift signs with paint smeared across the faces.
"SKYE TO HELL," some read.
"WE DESERVE FREEDOM"
"XI IS HOPE"
XI is hope.
The number 11–awakening of the spirit.
Every citizen was convinced. They were convinced that fate was their savior, arriving by the hands of some higher power.
It was time to wake up.
Blake smiled, spreading his arms out wide.
No longer did he wear tattered traveling clothes. Instead, a pristine black suit fit with a blood-red tie completed his outfit. In a matching red yarn, just above the seam on his breast pocket, a simple "XI" was etched into the fabric.
His eyes were narrower than before, and the sneer in their gaze matched the curve of his mouth as he opened it.
"Well, everyone," he called to the crowd standing before him. "Why don't we begin by restoring this wreck your city has become?"
"YAHHHHHH"
The crowd erupted, fists thrust into the air.
They'd been under the oppression of Bone Creek for less than a week, but they were already desperate to break free.
Even an idiot could have stood up in front of them with a speech prepared about hope and they would have cheered from the bottoms of their lungs.
But Blake wasn't an idiot; he exuded a calm competence, and from the people's point of view, he was nothing less than a god.
"HOODSDALE! HOODSDALE! HOODSDALE! HOODSDALE!"
The chant rose rapidly, and soon it could be heard in every crooked street of the city.
And it was heard in every other city too.
Every important person was at their respective city's radio station, tuned in to Hoodsdale's broadcast in wide-eyed shock.
They had received reports of everything Hoodsdale had gone through, and each new broadcast had seemed less believable than the last.
They all asked themselves the same questions: What was at work here? Just what was stirring in the world?
Whatever it was, they decided that it was bad.
Their years of perfect peace were under threat, and they were afraid.
"Okay! Okay!"
Blake raised his arms even higher, gesturing for the mob to quiet down.
"If your home is still standing, please return there now! If your home has been destroyed, remain here, and we will find somewhere for you to stay. I will speak with the Hoodsdale officials, and in the next 24 hours, we will issue information on the next steps for the city."
His announcement elicited another surge of volume from the crowd, but the sound eventually died down and people began trickling away.
But a distant yell of terror stopped everyone dead in the tracks.
A young man was sprinting in from the opposite direction, stumbling over his own feet with every step he took.
Blake turned around, observing the new arrival with a subtle look of surprise.
"B-BONE CREEK IS HERE!" he howled. "THEY HAVE AN ARMY!! AT THE GATE!!!"
Blake slid his hands into his pockets and narrowed his gaze.
After a moment of thought, he turned around, once again addressing the buzzing hoard.
"We will meet them!" he declared.
The buzzes turned to whispers of fear.
"We will meet them together," he continued, "and show them the evil they've done!"
Within five seconds, everyone was on board.
They yelled furious battle cries, spit flying from their mouths as they traversed their city–the city that had so nearly been taken from them.
They would never forgive the people of Bone Creek and all the suffering they'd experienced because of those vicious sadists.
– – – – –
Half an hour later, the sheer number of people pressed against the gate was terrifying.
With the soldiers of Hoodsdale at the lead, thousands of people were crammed between buildings and the wall, straining to get a look at the massive pine wood doors as they swung slowly open.
With hardly an ounce of fear, they brandished their fists at the opening gate, wishing death upon whoever was about to appear on the other side.
Blake and his comrades–the XI–were there to protect them, after all.
His confidence had become theirs.
But in all their furious passion, they had missed a critical detail: Blake was nowhere to be found.
If any had realized that their new leader had gone missing, they were too late. The gate creaked open, and their enemies came into view.
It was an assembly of Bone Creek's warriors, easily able to overpower the might of Hoodsdale, but the onlooking citizens could never have realized it.
All they saw were a few hundred funnily dressed psychopaths on their doorstep.
In front of all the hisses and jeers and aimed rifles, a single woman stepped forward, her long maroon hair flowing in the breeze behind her.
"We mean no harm!" she declared steadily. "Please just hear us out!"
The crowd erupted with insults and accusations, one particular attack overpowering all the rest.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
"SKYE??"
"SKYE!"
"SKYE!!!"
In less than ten seconds, they'd all decided her identity.
No one had ever seen her face before, yet they hated her more than anything else.
In place of Skye's relaxed, beautiful features, they saw a demon.
Her skin was green and writhing with warts, and some were convinced they could even see horns sprouting out of her head.
Skye took a shaky step backwards and raised her hands in front of the malice, but her voice was drowned out, and the mob advanced.
A group of soldiers broke free, sprinting at Skye in fury.
In response, the warriors at Skye's left and right leapt forward with their fists at the ready, prepared to kill any who dared attack their leader.
"STOP!" Skye screamed, sensing the bloodlust of her warriors and tumbling to the ground as she leapt forward to grab them.
They were dutiful to her, so, if only for a brief second, when they heard her voice, they stopped.
But the attackers from Hoodsdale did not, and in that instant of pause, a pair of bullets were unleashed.
With no one there to defend against them, the projectiles stabbed deep into Skye's back.
Face still half-buried in the dirt, she whimpered in pain.
And before she could even raise her hand in a last-ditch effort at peace, the five Hoodsdale soldiers were dead.
They were dead on the ground, and Bone Creek's army stepped over their bodies mercilessly.
Now, those civilians who had packed into the gate's mouth without so much as a knife to their name finally began to tremble.
"st–stop!" Skye spluttered through the blood in her lungs.
But Hoodsdale panicked, and an entire fleet of soldiers fired simultaneously.
In the face of the bullets, Bone Creek charged.
"STOOOOP!!"
Skye slammed her fist into the dirt.
"STOOOP!!"
She wailed the word over and over again, tears pouring down her dusty cheeks.
"St–st–stoooooop!"
As if the world had turned upside down, every Bone Creek warrior froze, realizing the atrocity they were committing: Skye was lying injured in the dirt, and they had done nothing to help her.
A group of hands instantly lifted her body into the air, and the charging fury subsided.
With the help of her people, Skye was healed within seconds and back on her feet, walking again to the front of the crowd as she wiped the tears off her face.
"Wai– stop!!"
Her walk turned into an all-out sprint, hand outstretched as she broke through the front of the Bone Creek crowd and strained towards the gate.
The gate that was about to snap shut.