The Badlands-Prologue

The light blinded me as my eyelids retreated back to their housing. The light stung my pupils as I tried to open them, I did so with great difficulty and to no avail. The light slowly swayed from side to side in the damp, warm breeze that tiptoed around the room I was in. The breeze whistled past my face, singing a sweet song as it did and leaving a damp feel on my cold cheeks. I realised my vision was impaired, I could see but my vision was blurry; I must have something around my eyes or I was in purgatory. That sweet sounding place, I would take it over being stuck in this life.

I couldn't be dead because I could smell and hear what is going on around me, it acted as some sort of sub-conciseness notifier letting me know I was still alive. I was relieved for a moment then I heard distant screams; like the voices of the damned the screams lingered in my head, beating at my sanity like a hammer. The air was filled with the smell of charred flesh and the smell of blood. It was rife in the air, it was fresh, I must be next; maybe my fate is to be the same as those burnt souls who laid around me now.

My hands tightened all of a sudden, I must be strapped to something by some sort of rope or weak metal. I felt a little resistance near my wrists, it was like a small creature was attempting to drag me away to it's lair. I heard a noise. A gut-wrenching noise. It sounded beast-like, I was certain it did not come from anything I had heard in my life. My blood curdled. I knew the other people who were here before me must have been the beast's appertiser; and I was about to be the main meal and suffer the same death. At least it would be quick I thought to myself. Little animals scurried past my feet as if in a frantic escape from a bigger predator.

This was the moment I became more aware of my surroundings. The floor I was sitting on was flooded, I realised that my ragged trouser were drenched in some nose tingling liquid. I tried to shake my hands loose so I could get this blindfold away from my face and escape this abominating place. It was pointless, my hands just restricted tighter, it dug deeper into my wrists. I tried moving myself into a more comfortable position, to try and relieve the pressure from my wrists. It was no use, my legs were numb, the felt like they had been pummelled by a domestic weapon. I moved my hands, using my knuckles to feel about, to find out what I was strapped on to. It became apparent to me that there were no sharp edges on the object, so I used my fingers to feel for a shape. Grasping the object tightly, I realised that it was of a cylindrical shape. I must be strapped to a pipe of some sort. The only pipes I knew of were the ones in the Old sewer system that supplied the town. "What am I doing here?" I thought out loud. Bad thing to do. Although I became reassured as I heard a humanoid voice in the distance. Then I became terrified.

As the voices drew close to my vicinity, I began to panic. The voices were rough and hackled; deep and gritty. They must've been standing behind some sort of door leading into my room, because I could hear one of them say, in their deep rough voice "What are we going to do with the thief?" I heard no reply so I assumed he must be the only one there. But as the door slid open with heavy sound and a clunk as it reached the limit of its hinges; the light stung my eyes, blinding me again not allowing me to see. I realised the human was not alone, two silhouettes stood in front of me. One squatted down so his face was slightly elevated from mine and he tore away the blindfold from my face viciously.

"Well, well, well our lil' theif is awake. What now gov'?"

"His hand. Cut off his hand. That'll teach the scoundrel." his bandit friend replied.

Whilst these two miscreants decided my fate, I studide them closer. They had makeshift armour, made from discarded items and rubbish that just so happened to be in decent condition. There undergarments were rags just like the ones I was wearing. The one who was standing up straight; and seemed to be the tallest of the two; was a stocky man, big build on the upper body but his lower body seemed to be out of proportion. Slung on his back was a weapon. After closer inspection I noticed that it was an automatic rifle, a standard for the bandits near where I lived. On his right thigh was an unbuttoned pistol holder, holding no pistol. Where was it? Around his waist was a makeshift leather belt; looked like it had been crafted by an inexperienced tailors-man. With the miscreant squatted in front of me, I was able to get a closer look at his face. His face was clean shaven, with little signs of stubble; he must have a goatee normally as there was a lot of stubble around his upper and lower lip. He too had an automatic rifle strapped to his back, but his had some sort of scope on it, strange. His makeshift armour was similar to that of the police-esque force in town, there was no notable insignia on the taller one; however I noticed a vulture type logo tattooed upon his neck. The Scavengers.

I had to escape. I had to. The taller of the two lifted his right arm, levelling his pistol to my face. It was a 1930's Mauser pistol. "Any last words?" He said with a smirk crawling along his face. I heard a bang and accepted my fate. I was hoping not to die today. I don't believe in fate, its nonsense. Everything is unplanned and cannot be foreseen. However, events change; they change people. They can change in a blink of an eye, what we perceive to be the end of us is not always so.

I forced my eyes open, so I could see my killers one last time, so I can haunt them when I'm gone. They where nowhere to be seen, the pressure on my wrists had been relieved. I sat up, my legs still numb from the beating and the awkward position I was laid in. This is when I realised that a body was at my feet, it was the bandit who had been squatting in front of me. The other man walked through the door and I struggled quickly to get the automatic rifle from the dead bandit. Big, brown boots clamped down on the weapon, impeding my progress of survival. The man helped me up, I squirmed out of his grasp but fell straight back down. He picked me up again, supporting me whilst I stood.

"Don't worry friend, I'm no enemy. I'm here to help you. Can you remember your name?"

"It's Jackson. Lenny Jackson."