• Ransorm ran as far and as fast as he could away from the evil Retreat. Thoughts running through his head as they usually did; faster than he or any of the Others could run. That's what made him different from them. Jakob had promised that it would eventually subside, before he had to go to Judgement. Every child ever born into the Retreat had to go to Judgement when they reached sixteen. Ransorm was fifteen, soon Turning of Age.
    Ransorm a tall, skinny, almost gaunt figure looked over his surroundings. A large tree, couple of bushes, and a big a** fence surrounding him. Damn.
    He flipped his black-red hair, which looked purple in the moonlight. Why can't I catch a break! He thought.
    Suddenly he was surrounded by hundreds of Followers, which are people who follow whatever Jakob says even though they weren't one of the Chosen. Ransorm was one of the Chosen, one of the elite, even though he didn't know why. Maybe it was his fast thinking, his extreme height compared to all the other Others, or maybe just his hair. Jakob was a little shorter than Ransorm, had brown-red hair, and was the leader of the Retreat.
    "Why did you leave Ransorm?" Jakob asked, in his always light and calm voice, "Did something happen that angered you?"
    "No. I realised what this place is all about," Ransorm said, his voice heavy with disgust.
    "And what is that?"
    "Evil."
    "It seems you won't cooperate will you?"
    "Never."
    "Well, then it seems we have no choice. Guns at the ready."
    "One."
    "Two."
    "Three." said Jakob and Ransorm in unision.