Freedom Fighter

ACT 1

Prologue: Bottom of the eighth

There was shouting all around, the earth moved and spun and made his head even dizzier than it already was. The sound of metal grinding on metal and the stench of blood and oil made him want to gag.

The tawny young male sat up. He was breathing sporadically and frantically. Large doe brown eyes shot from side to side in an attempt to decipher where he was. Sparks flew to his side; he jumped and fell off the bench. The pounding of his heart made the pounding in his head seem almost invisible.

His thin body hit the floor with a metallic thump, but the pain didn't register at all. The boy, no more than 3, pushed himself up and sat crossed-leg on the floor in the middle of the isle. He looked around him as his eyebrows knit together.

He was in a burnt bus. It was charred at the corners and the front was aflame and melted, the metal dripped to the ground like melted plastic and bubbled on the ground like a pool of acid that ate away at the floor.

He grabbed his head and rubbed it with trembling hands. Why did it hurt so much? More flashes to the side sent hear pouring through the metal container. Jumping onto the seat he pushed his body against the smoked window against the wall.

The shouting from outside grew to a chorus of cheering.

With frightened eyes and rattling limbs, the boy with wild black hair and a mother of a migraine ran for the exit up front. His feet thumped hollowly on the corroded metal beneath him. Where he had just sat a giant chainsaw cut through and sawed the chair in half, leaving a glowing chair enflamed behind. He clambered passed the melted metal, careful not to touch it and jumped to the ground.

THuNk!

Fire engulfed the vehicle as soon as his feet touched the ground. His eyes widened and he ran. He just barely made it to cover behind a pillar of dumpsters and burnt tires when...

BOOM!

Flaming bus parts shot in every direction and flew passed him and over his head. The young boy shouted and ducked to the ground, his hands covering the back of his head. The trash can behind him erupted in a gospel of rattling and shaking that turned out to be worse than his own body's. The metal bin shot up into the air.

The boy jumped almost just as high out of shock. Horror stricken eyes stared at the bus that was nothing more than an incinerated pile of metal flecks and glowing ash. He scrambled onto his feet and ran as fast as his short legs would carry him.

Clank CLunK Clank CLunK.

He turned around and saw a flaming figure emerge from the heated explosion. His hair was as golden as his glowing eyes and his body was toned like a well trained fighter. The youngster's eyes widened when he saw the approaching man's arm. It was metal and attached to his shoulder.

Was the man a cyborg?

Brown eyes stared into gold. The older male froze and stared at the boy standing shocked a few feet away from him. The crowd began clapping and stamping their feet in concord while echoing. "Kill him. Finish him. Kill him. Finish him."

Soon the noise filled the tight space and pressed down on the younger's ears.

The older male looked from side to side, his face pained and his inner emotions strung up like a coil waiting to snap under the pressure. When he didn't make a single move to harm the child the crowd booed and threw objects into the arena.

For the first time the child noticed the walls stretching up around them, enclosing them in a small space filled with obstacles and flaming things. The tight space scarred him and the noise all around was even more unnerving.

Hot air filled his lungs and left in a failing swoop of sporadic inhalations that made him struggle for breath. Next thing the three year old knew the man with a metal arm was on the concrete ground gripping at a collar that was strapped tightly to his neck. Before he could even react a shock of pain stabbed through his chest and he collapsed to his knees.

Small hands gripped at the centre of his chest and were surprised to find a circular metal port there. Breathing became more of a struggle and he collapsed to his side, curling up into a metal ball. Trembles wracked his frame and the crowd above cheered even more. Soon the pain ebbed away and his tense muscles twitched.

It didn't last long. Frightened eyes opened and stared up at the silhouette above him who was holding a giant axe in hand- poised to strike. Hands shot up in vain to try and protect his face from what will be a deadly strike.

A scream ripped through his ears and he tensed. Warmth dripped onto his face in small spots. He curled up tighter. His hands gripped his head fearfully. For a long time nothing happened. Confused he slowly opened his eyes. He immediately scrambled back. His frame bumped uselessly against the wall. Wide terrified eyes stared at the scene before him.

Some distance away from him the unfamiliar attacker's body crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his chest where a spire was sticking like a poisoned dagger from the man's body. The strangest thing ever was the sparks flying out of the eradicated body, and was that... black leaking out alongside the vermillion life essence?

Even more confused and scared than before the small boy pressed his body against the wall, his knees came up and covered his chest. The man pulled his weapon from the dead body. He approached with a deadly stride. Bright eyes searched the approaching man's figure for any sign of mercy. He found none. The blood soaked body, stained with the stench of death, approached impossibly slowly. The golden haired man had no armour protecting him, but he looked terrifying without it.

Above them, behind the veil of metal chains, draped like a blanket, and railings the crowd roared; their voices aching for violence- practically begging on the verge of their desperation. "P-please?" He begged futilely. The man stopped dead above him. His expression softened with forgiving golden eyes. "Sorry, Kid, but being a dog of war has no privileges." In one swoop he lifted his hand. His weapon ready to strike. The boy closed his eyes. The crowd above roared.

"Your life is being exchanged equivalently for mine."

His weapon slashed down.

The crowd seemed to hold their breath as they stared down into the arena. Some people even climbed over others and peeked over their shoulders to see what had happened before the bell rang.

Ding DiNg DINg !

For an unbelievably long time nothing happened.

Slowly he opened his eyes, peeking through the veil of fingers. His eyes were cleared just in time to see a dark figure moving through raised gates, right through an explosion of fire and heat that enflamed the air and sent flecks flying into the arena. Like compressed gas he was pushed back by the sheer force and pushed into the wall. He knew the man didn't die in the explosion from hell, because beyond those gates he saw the body crusted in gold turn a corner.

"The winner, by total annihilation- FullMetal!" A female voice boomed from above- causing the small bundle of terrified goo to shoot his head up from whence the noise came. Far above he saw people move about, grabbing money from each other and trading curses and cheers of success. "Hiro!" The boy turned his attention to the approaching man. He didn't look satisfied and the sneer on his face made the boy even more afraid.

Without his consent the man grabbed him by his shirt and hauled him off the ground. They began moving and the man dragged them from the flaming arena. Hiro watched with amazed eyes as the small fighting ring was lit with light from all sides. Obstacles littered the entire surface, allowing great cover from attacks. In the pews above people were chatting roaring and betting.

He tipped his head to the side. What were they betting on? The metal bars slammed shut and closed off the arena, blocking any view he had left. Quickly he was dragged around the corner and plunged into a world of chaos. All around him people were bustling about, running after tools and sparking objects.

The air smelled rancid and of motor oil. Combined heat of melted circuits and soldering iron filled the air and made the young male sick to his stomach. His wrist was beginning to hurt from the strange man's strong gripped as he was pulled through the mayhem. Diagrams and machine parts littered every surface imaginable in this chaotic underworld of repairs and preparation.

Suddenly they stopped, causing his small frame to bump into a greatly upset man's leg. For the first time since his uncanny removal from the ring of death and flame did he recognise how small he was compared to everyone. On a scale of small to normal, his height was laughable. He found this weird for some reason. With confused brown eyes he stared up at the taller beings.

They looked different. Hiro looked down at himself. He was wearing weird clothes and some of his body parts were shiny and metallic- just like Full Metal had. Only, he didn't just have one arm like that... his chest was normal looking, but he could feel electricity running through his veins (in a good-bad way). As were one of his feet- it looked like something a robot would have.

His foot looked more like it was a metal shoe, but Hiro knew that it wasn't what he thought it was. It was something different and more complex than he understood. Hiro flexed his fingers, one hand was also like his foot, it looked like a robotic glove, with wires and metal casings, but it wasn't a glove that much the three year old knew.

Hiro looked back up at the two people. They were talking to each other in a language he didn't understand. Their lips were moving and he knew they were communicating, but his ears refused to understand what they were saying.

They also looked different. They looked... normal. Hiro knew, somewhere in the nether-regions of his brain, that he wasn't normal and that he would never be normal, but his heart immediately wanted to be normal. He wanted to dress like them and talk like them. He wanted to be average height and not be full of... metal and machine parts.

Every now and then the man who had dragged him here would cast a disapproving glance at him. Hiro shied away from the flailing hands and gestures that seemed to get wilder the longer the man and female conversed. They were obviously having a dispute about something. Now both were staring at Hiro and that made him squirm even more.

The female stared at him with calculating eyes. Hiro looked at the floor. She stepped forward and crouched before him. Hiro watched as she reached towards him. He flinched away. The woman's eyes shot over to the man and glared at him, before moving back to the boy. She grabbed Hiro's head and tipped it forward. With calculating eyes she inspected his face, opened his mouth and checked his teeth, along with the back of his throat.

Hiro felt very uncomfortable under the ministrations of the woman's probing fingers and he squirmed this way and that. Finally she removed her fingers, slobbered with spit, from his mouth; shaking the wet digits in disgust. Hiro moved his jaw up and down to bring back normal feel to his mouth. A soft light hiss from his chest made him look down. Amazement lit up his gaze as he stared at the circular thing in his chest open and push an object out. The woman chuckled and winked at him.

He smiled, the overbite in his teeth making him look absolutely adorable. Small fingers reached up to touch a card sticking from the access port, but his fingers were scolded with a light slap. The woman shook her finger at him with widened and scary looking eyes. He dropped his hand to his side instantly. It took no longer than a few seconds before she closed the port and waved a small plastic card over it.

A beep came from the circle. The woman stood up and pulled the man to the side. With their backs faced to him they began talking again, their voices kept in a low hush. Hiro stared at them and once he was sure they weren't looking he pressed the port- like the woman had- but it didn't open. The small plate refused to open, even when he gripped it from all sides and all angles and pulled with all his strength. All it caused was a slight throb to inhabit his chest and he just gave up.

With a disdained sigh he plopped onto the ground, propping his head up on his hand and staring at the two people. They were talking furiously, their movements even more distressed than before. The man grabbed at his hair angrily and groaned. He yelled at the roof, making Hiro jump at the sudden noise and stand up instantly. Both of them turned to face Hiro. The man looked at him calculatingly before sighing and nodding his head.

The woman smirked. She removed a wad of cash from her cargo pants and dumped the roll into the man's hand. A small controller was placed into the woman's hand in return. Hiro tipped his head to the side. Why were they acting so weird? He shook his head as he thought. With shaking hands he grabbed at his head and clenched his eyes. Thinking hurt. He took a deep sigh and opened his eyes. His sight was blurry, but he could make out the two of them shaking hands.

Strong hands lifted him from behind. Hiro let out a shriek as cold hands gripped him underneath his armpits and hefted him into the air without much resistance from his weight. The woman began walking and the figures followed her. He tried twisting his head to see who was carrying him, but the act only caused dizziness to swarm him. He groaned audibly. The woman stopped and turned around. She narrowed her eyes.

With brisk and clipped movements they began moving again. The roar of grinders and tools at work blurred into the background and the soft glow of sparks became nothing but landscape on a painting the further they moved down the grey area. There was a buzz filling the air and Hiro faintly felt something being clipped around his neck.

Unconsciousness would have taken him prisoner, but he suspected someone had beat it there when he was thrown into a cold and small cage that was quickly locked and loaded into the back of a truck. Hiro's eyes flew open and reality rushed back to him. He was plummeted into darkness when the door slammed shut on him and the vehicle around him roared to life. Scared and lost and confused he pressed himself against the bars and made himself as small as possible.

In the back of his brain he felt a throb as a memory tried to breach his fogged up mind. Nothing came through, but the vague feeling that there was still hope. That there was someone out there who would save him- that all he had to do was stay strong and be a fighter. That if he wanted to survive this and to gain his freedom that he had to fight.

Hiro's resolve strengthened and in his scared speechless ball of protection he knew that to allow help to come he needed to stay alive for as long as possible, because help was on the way.

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"This is a brief life, but in its brevity it offers us some splendid moments, some meaningful adventures." –Rudyard Kipling.

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