Rise From the Ashes

Violet's POV:

"Get up!" A voice hisses, and I nearly wince at the tone. "Move back," the same deep voice commands, and despite my groggy state, I crawl away from the bars.

I open my bleary eyes and frown at what I'm seeing. A person, a guy, (a handsome guy I might add) stands before me, crouching low to the ground, fiddling with something in is hand. My gaze travels from his dark, wind-swept hair, to the black marks that decorate his handsome face. My gaze lowers a little and settles on a black leather jacket, my eyes scanning over the words "Prophet" scrawled across the back of it.

My breath catches in my throat; am I dreaming? This can't be the legendary Prophet, leader of the most notorious of rebels, in my cell, freeing me? Surely F.E.A.R has finally gotten to me, perhaps it was a sedative in my drinking water, or maybe the lack of nutrition, or the regular beatings have just finally caught up to me, anything would make more sense than this.

The cell door bursts open, how I'm not really sure. The Prophet stands, his towering height impressive compared to my collapsed form. Despite my aching bones and sore, unused muscles, I manage to rise slowly to my feet, wincing at the cracks in my joints. His eyes wander over my body, stilling on my more visible wounds. He curses a couple times, and strides over to me, scooping me up.

I'm taken aback by his sudden gesture, and jerk around in his grip, trying to remove his hands from me. But he doesn't budge, and instead growls at me, "stop moving, dammit. I'm trying to rescue you without alerting F.E.A.R!"

I instantly still, relaxing in his strong hold. He nods at me before sprinting out of the prison, running through complicated series of halls. I close my eyes and lean into his chest as we pass some of the rooms which I was usually questioned or beaten in, the memories stinging so sharply I can barely breathe.

The Prophet doesn't seem to notice as he continues to move, weaving through doorways and cutting sharp corners. I can hear the uproar of what i assume are more rebels, along with the familiar buzz of the Transmissions as they echo through the facility.

And then all there is is light. The natural light and warmth practically burning my senses, but I welcome it. I bask in the goodness I feel as the sun's rays lick my flesh, smiling for the first time in months. The Prophets' pace slows noticeable to a slight jog, and then there are more voices, cheers even, that all rush past us and run to the horizon. Several vans are awaiting, and the rebels climb into them, hollering as they start up and begin to drive towards the endless desert.

The Prophet takes me to a special medical van, his arms gentle as he sets me down. He mutters a few words to the medics surrounding us, before disappearing, and there is only the familiar ache in my bones as more serious wounds are treated.

I tilt my head to the tinted windows, barely blinking, trying my best to soak up all the sunlight that i can before I black out.

Notes

Hello everyone!
Gone_Girl here with a new story based on Legion of the Black!!
I'm also super excited to tell you all that this story is a collaberation with ItsAllDoneForYou! She's amazing so please check out her stories!