The Prisoner Two of the guards tug open the door, and the third shoves me in. I hit the concrete floor hard, jarring my knee. I look back just in time to see a guard's overlong digits disappear from the doorway, and then the door shuts abruptly. I hear bolts slide across, locking me in. I throw myself at the door, yelling, screaming. 'You can do that forever, kid, and no one's gonna open the bloody door.' I turn around quickly. A man is hunched in the corner of the cell. Filthy blond hair obscures his bright blue eyes. His face is coated with stubble, and he's wearing ragged grey overalls. 'Wh-who are you?' I ask, my voice clearly portraying fear. 'That, my friend,' the man says, rising to his feet, 'Is a very good question. Here's another: what is a healthy young man like yourself doing in my cell?' 'Got captured, didn't I?' My fear is evaporating now, tuning into anger. The prisoner sighs. 'So what happened?' 'None of your business.' He snaps something back, but I don't listen. I vaguely hear him shouting, and then all the wind is knocked out of me. Before I have time to react, the man shoves me up against the wall and bellows: 'TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! WHAT'S HAPPENED TO THE RESISTANCE?' I yell 'Alright, alright!' and tell him. Tell him how a hundred drones, with their hideous faces and six-inch claws ambushed me and my friends in the Resistance, a group of human freedom fighters.. We were outnumbered five to one, but we fought bravely back, slaying many of them. But at the end of the day, only me and five other of the Resistance survived to be taken prisoner. The older man seems shocked by my words. Shut up in his cell for so long, he's lost track of how feeble the Resistance had grown. To him, it must have always been his one hope: that they wold triumph, and he would be freed. At last he says: 'That's it, then. The fight for humanity is lost...' If this gets 3 likes I will write a part 2! Thanks for reading!

Riots The first warning of attack came from outside. James heard a bellow of "RIOT CARS!", then the sound of a car engine. He was wise enough not to look- he would not be seen if he stayed hidden. From the outside, the house appeared empty; the glass from the windows was missing, the paint was peeling, and no lights were ever on. Lying here beneath one of the windows, he was safe from the rebels. He still thought that until a missile streaked through the window, just inches from his head. It struck the opposite wall and exploded. It was a large room, and the explosion was too far away to harm him, but then he saw that the wall where the missile had struck was on fire. He glanced at his companion, called Sarah. She jerked her head to indicate that they would have to escape through the window, in plain sight of anyone in the street. It'd be dangerous, but the alternative was burning to death. James nodded to show he understood and mouthed "Three, two, one..." and then they were out, and James could see the riot cars, and in the back one of the gunners had seen them running - The gunner fired. Instinctively James fell to the ground, not for cover - there was none - but playing dead. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Sarah had done the same, but then he realised that she really had been shot, and was lying still. She was dead. This was no time to grieve, though. James waited for a few seconds, then looked up. There was the riot car. It wasn't much to look at - just an ordinary car, with an aim-able grenade launcher on the roof, and two rebels with machine-guns in the back. But James knew how much damage they could cause. At about that point, James felt a searing pain in his back, and everything went dark.