In response to the Photo-Fiction Challenge
We call them Ghosts. Nobody ever saw one, nobody ever heard them coming. They would simply be there in the rebel installations, leaving carnage. No footage of them, No trace, no evidence.
But the rebellion was corrupt, our commanders weren’t fighting for us, for the greater good. They had brokered a deal with Ming Xu San, and he was coming. He would be worse than the Red Princess. Worse than the woman who ruled from her citadel, ordering her soldiers to take our girls, dehumanize our men and slaughter the old.
The woman sitting on the bench next to me was a ghost. She looked for all intensive purposes normal. She sat in her conservative garb with a classic in her hands just reading, waiting, listening to my tale. Of how a simple soldier had fumbled upon a deal made with the devil, about how I had lost faith in my messiah, and how I was willing to court a demon to save what was left of us.
She took the chip I had smuggled out and she spoke to me, in that chilling voice of hers, the one that sounded like a thousand whispers and the rustling of dry leaves. She assured me that it would be fine, that the Princess too was nearing her end times, that the new rebellion would be stronger, better for the great nation, more able to defend against the threat of corruption. But while I watched she vanished, fading slowly til there was a transparent figure surrounded by quaint clothes. Unnerving.
“What are you?”
“I am us” she said shedding the disguise not making her conspicuous. “We are the stolen daughters, modified and set to purpose. We are one, we are the new saviors. We are Ghosts”