If you have not read the first story "Walking Sidelines"
this may all be a bit confusing.
Fair warning xD

Trilogy of the Forsaken
Whispers in the Dark


When others are shunned from the light, and push away from the darkness, they are left between. Verging that line, wanting and trying to still help, but never being allowed to show it. Always just half a step from walking into the world away from the crack of sunset.

They don't follow the rules, as it would lead to undoing, and personal survival... is an instinct stronger than anything. But as rules are broken in attempt to make new, does it do any good? Are those that stand between all else to be truly shunned? As pain is caused in attempt to fix the same disease they bring.

Hated by witness, tormented by themselves.

Cowardly in sense, stronger in other.

Knowing they can help, but will never see the fruits of labor, to feel the love of redemption. Heavily, the burden will remain, shackled, their sun will not rise. Their only light is the fire that burns within, the outcome of living in a hated world, and state of being.

Their past is just as haunting as their present, like whispers from the corners of their minds, they fuel them by guilt. A guilt that cannot be relieved, as salvation slipped from their lifeless grasps. They stand close to what they fight against, their forced to run from what they want. Enemies are always closest, while friends stand out of reach. So much power at their tips, yet within weakness crumbles behind the fragile papers of their hearts.

The death of others nulls their human senses, immortal to the stench of blood. To hurt is to live, while the Angel of Death haunts their foot falls with taunt. While the curse of their past holds closer, waging battle with them, trying to stumble them into faulting further, and into the grasps of that Angel.

Facing the days with smiles of false, attempting to become ignorant what they have become.

Lonely even in company.

Afraid even with power.

Disturbed by the quietness of their own minds.

Hallow by guilt, they cannot fight.

Gifted with freedom, though it is a heavy burden.

They stand between The Plague and The Sickness. They are all that is selfish, and all that is selfless, all and non, caught and escaping. Hunter and Hunted.

Rare in breed, few by nature.
They are the Forsaken.



"Perfect... maybe a little too perfect." The man mused to himself, staring at the giant computer screen in front of him. Photos and files scatted on the desk in front of him, his one eye continued to stare at the screen. "Things are setting up, without my interference," he smiled under his mask at the ease. Moving away and to another part of the desk, he reached out and scattered a portfolio out, "he really should've known better." He commented without compassion, could things get anymore perfect?

His plan was playing out before him, and he had yet to seriously interfere. As their weaknesses grew harder to hide, it was apparent that the masked man would have no problem continuing out his plan in little time. "And this time, perhaps, winning is inevitable."

Yes yes, its short. Stupid little proglouges xD! I decided to go ahead and post this quickly though, the chapters themselves are going to take some time, they need some more editing. The little poetry up there, uhg, so dramatic. I was just writing that one day and was like "...Hey! Lets put it in meh fic! YEY!" Forgive the over-drama, LOL!

So here we go, second fic 8O! Here's hoping that it will do alright.