Introduction
This old run down town, where all the walls are falling down, is not what it used to be. Now, where all the grass has died, used to be miles of green and where the flowers had grown, have in place grown-weeds. The buildings have yellowed and fallen apart. Bricks litter the dirt roads. A layer of dust covers everything in this small town. This is the town of Jannington.
I used to live here.
Only, once upon a time.
Chapter 1
I was standing in the middle of the road. Observing were I had lived in my child hood. It took me a while to take in how the lively setting had changed in the pale sunset. How ruined it was.
I limped down Madnald Road and then walked down Dorox. All of the houses there were falling into pieces also. The town must have been abandoned since I left it twelve years ago. The war left it so lifeless. I kept hobbling down the street. House after house, completely destroyed, evacuated. Nothing was as it used to be. I stopped in front of a small house. The roof had caved in, and the brown walls had cracks going up them. The red door, that was missing most of its paint and had burn marks on it, was also hanging on its hinges. The grass had turned brown.
I stared up at it a few minutes, recollecting memories. Then, I bent over, took my knife out of my shoe, and flipped it open. I walked up to the door, holding my knife in my right hand and I pulled the door open. The little bit of door that was hanging on the hinges broke, and the door crashed to the ground, making a loud bang. I looked around quickly and gripped my knife tighter. I did not see anything so I eased my way into the house. I kept my back against wall, and looked back one more time before progressing farther into the house.
The house had obviously been recently entered. There were things all over the floor, and the few things that were not destroyed before were broken. The ash on the floor and some tables had been disturbed. I looked around me once more, and held my knife a little tighter. I could not control my breathing as I neared the last room in the hallway. The door was shut. I kicked it open with ease.
The fireplace was lit. I could see someone's hair barely over a red armchair. He did not turn around. I scanned the room swiftly to make sure we were alone. "Destin?" My voice sounded shaky, but the man did not reply. "Destin, they said you could help me?" I was unsure at this point as of what to do, the man seemed as though he was not going to speak to me. I started to move around the room to see if I could find out who exactly was in the room with me, when- "Password?" I looked up from the floor a little confused, and then I remembered. "Trust no one completely."
"Never be trusted", the man replied.
I lowered my knives, and walked a little closer. He did not say anything else. Therefore, I slowly went around to the side of his chair. He was much older than I was. He looked to be in his early sixties. His hair had grayed and wrinkles lined his face. He was pale and wore glasses, but he looked strong for his age.
"Name?"
"N-Niko Sir" I stammered.
"Niko?"
I nodded vigorously, still too nervous to really speak. If this was the person that I had been told about, he was very powerful in many different ways.
"Niko, do not lower your weapons so quickly. You will need to be prepared."
I held my knife back up, looking around, expecting to see someone come out from the shadows. However, no one did, and I looked back down at Destin. He did not say anything. He just nodded in approval.
"You have to keep your wits about you. In times like these, you cannot afford to let your guard down."
I looked at him, as to, I did not know what to say, but I kept my knife tight in my hand.
"You look young, how old are you?"
"I-I'm not exactly sure s-sir, I have estimated that I am a-about eighteen years of age."
"Hmmm..." Destin looked thoughtful.
"I might be y-young, but I'm strong for my age."
"Well, Niko, you do not sound strong. It looks like we have many lessons ahead of us."
"Yes sir." I firmed my voice so I would not stutter.
"We mustn't stay here for long," he said as he stood up and started to put out the fireplace.
I helped him diminish the fire and then he led the way out of the house. We went through a back door and came to a halt. Destin grabbed his own knife out of its case and looked back at me to see if I still had mine out. His knife was a little longer than mine and looked as though it had been put to good use though many years. However, it also still looked like it was sharper than any I had ever seen before.
