ReBirth of The Primordial 6 Surviving

While Io waited, she found her thoughts drifting. The fear that the twins would not accept her, that perhaps they wouldn't be able to 'find' Io in her form was almost paralyzing. Granted they had only known each other for two years they had gone through so much that it seemed like an eternity since they had met. They were the reason that Io had been able to retain her humanity when she was human in their previous world. It was killed or be killed yes, but where as in nature the primary motivation was for survival, for humans it was all about greed. Io had killed others yes, but only in defense of the twins or herself. She'd also killed for food. It wasn't her first choice, but she wasn't about to let her family starve.

These quiet thoughts whirled around in her mind as she waited with baited breaths for Dagan and Sorcha to make a decision. She had done everything she could do to convey to them that she was Io, but rather or not they'd believe her was other can of worms. Besides, they were alive and in good, if somewhat other condition. Their world had been in the midst of taking itself back from humanity. They as a species had taken so much it had become part of their culture. They no longer cared enough to help and in fact helping was a foreign concept to the majority of their species.

In fact, it was common for parents to abandon their children. Abandonment was even legally classified that way as abandonment, but classified as a 'donation to society'. It was even a deemed a tax return! Many parents would 'donate' their children in pursuit of the selfish needs. Sympathy and empathy had all but disappeared. Children grew up cold without a desire to pursue the bonds that we had once established to connect with one another as friend, brother, sister, or parent, etc.

Left to their own devices, raised by machines, or groomed to be the 'perfect addition to society' the children didn't learn to how to care and why should they? Empathy? What's that? Sympathy? Love? Lies. Kindness? Sure, if you want to be sent to a testing facility. No all they knew was the cold place their previous generations had created with the technology. After centuries of this very few had held on to the beauty that we had once radiated when we were truly good. All that remained of us was an emotional wasteland, a mirror-image of our deadened planet.

As for Io? Well, she had murdered her way out of the Standard Elite Learning Facility or S.E.L.F. where she had been dropped off after her parents so graciously donated her as an infant. In her tenth year, Io was deemed useless to society since she neither a genius or a super beauty. In essence her genetics were subpar. Consequently, due to her waste status, Io was marked by a special laser from right eyebrow to left cheek, visually marking of her defectiveness for all to see. An undeniable fact that she was to be sent to testing. Why the scarring? It was a visual representation that this child or adult needed to be detained and sent to a testing facility for 'betterment' of mankind. It also made it easier for the hunters to track since the laser had a special compound in it that made the scar look like they had laid silver across her tan skin. Kind of twisted right? Suffice to say, Io had plenty of motivation to finally step out of the shadows and break out.

Most of the children had been conditioned from an early age to purse perfection. Whether it was in your physical looks, or your mind was piece of art. Self-improvement meant survival and perfection equaled flourishing. If you were anything less you were dead. So, there was no time for remorse when that meant a body to take your place in the slaughter house.
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Escaping was a bloodbath. Blood spilt walkways. She had slaughtered anyone that came across her path innocent or not. Learning to kill was not easy. For the sake of convenience, she would try to kill them in one stroke, but in the beginning it was arduous. The wailing of the dying. The stares of reproach and fear-covered faces.

When Io had finally escaped S.E.L.F., she had gone into The Tunnels. Pro? It was nigh on impossible to track anyone through there. Con? All kinds of human scum called The Tunnels home. It wasn't like Io wanted to kill. Honestly if she could just be left alone, all was well and good. However, the silver marking on her face was death sentence waiting for the wrong kind of people to notice. It was there that Io learned that there was an art to making a quick kill, or to just killing period.

Io didn't even know how far she walked in the mire of those tunnels after escape, drinking urine and shit-infested water because it was that or die. The bugs were practically delicacies to be honest, fresh and crunchy. That first bite was always the best. While that a highlight, picking up bones from old human remains or scrubbing them clean was the worst, but hey bones were strong, and once the ends were sharpened, they made the best weapons.

When Io had finally reached the surface the child that while cold but maintained some innocence had become as vicious as her survival had demanded. A girl of fourteen now, her silver scar highlighted the almost ghostly shade of white her skin had become from the four years she had spent underground. Her once shoulder-length black hair reached her waist in its braid and turned white from a run-in with a cannibalistic group of humans. They had graciously treated her to a horrific evening as evidenced by the scarred over bite marks on her left shoulder and missing three fingers on her right hand.

That was okay though, she wore their finger bones as a necklace around her neck, and their ribs and leg bones decorate the sides of her pants in their homemade sheaths after she had cleaned them up enough which had taken forever, since she didn't ascribe to cannibalism. She would and had starved before doing that, but then again watching a child being eaten alive while she'd been trapped would be a strong trauma against such predilections. Not to mention they'd had a good time sinking their flesh into her skin, not to eat but just to bite, to torture her. That man. The fervor in his eyes as he bit off her fingers one by one… Suffice to say by the time the girl had left The Tunnels she was half mad. Any humanity she'd had, long lost horrors of the dark world she had left behind when she came to the surface.

Living on the surface was peaceful in comparison to the nightmare she had left behind, only having to kill once or twice a month instead of the daily battles to survive. It had also given her time to heal and while she was no longer the maddened animal she'd been when she had first left The Tunnels, she wasn't quite sane either. Of course, having a safe place to crash for the entire night, exposure to proper nutrition when she could find it, and clean drinking water helped immensely.

It wasn't until close to the end of that first year that Io found Dagan and Sorcha. She on her way out of ruins, the obsolete part of the city, when Io had decided to take a shortcut through one of the alleyways to avoid anyone taking notice of her. Hood up, scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, and bone weaponry on display, was enough to deter most people. Which worked well enough for her, however, one cannot be too cautious, ergo, the alleyway.

Midway through though, she heard a noise. Io stopped, left hand drawing her hiltless 46 cm bone sword effortlessly as she turned towards where the noise came from. She walked slowly with the grace of a large predator, confident in the hunt. Io paused at the corner of the adjoining alleyway and waited for any signs of a trap. The noise sounded again and Io relaxed. The snuffling sound probably some sort of animal. Good. She decided, she needed the reserves anyways and if it was a pigeon or rat what better way to start of her journey.

Io quietly worked her way towards the noise, pausing every now and then to make sure she hadn't alerted her prey. When she got into range Io crouched low, her katanshaped bone clutched in a reverse hold. She kicked the dilapidated bin away swinging her weapon when she saw them. Laying before her were two tiny children. They couldn't have been more than three or four years old and each had a large rag or some adults worn shirt covering their small thin forms. One of them had wrapped their body around the other to keep them warm in the cold weather.

Chapter end