Created (Book 1 of the Created) Read Online Free Page A

heart thumped as a sense of panic rose inside. Against my
desire to distance myself from my own demise, I placed my hand on the
windowsill. Inexplicably, I leaned forward to catch a better view of the
approaching figures.
    Abruptly,
I found myself awakening at night in an open field of waving golden brown wheat
straw. Unsure of my location, I lay still listening to the silent field.   No birds calling, no crickets chirping, not
even the rustling on the trees as a gentle wind pushed the flowing wheat from
side to side.
    Rising
to one knee, I surveyed the waist high wheat and the surrounding woods, being
careful not to expose my position. The starless night contained a lonesome full
moon, which hung low in the sky like a spotlight framing the small field in a
yellow hue. Patiently, I scanned looking for signs of movement.
    The
gentle sway of the straw was disarmingly calming. Content I was alone, I wanted
to make my next move in due time.
    Waiting
for hours, feeling safe, I stood.
    Whispering,
I asked myself, "Which direction do I proceed to get back to the base?
    Huge,
clawed hands seized me from behind, lifting me from the ground before I could
satisfy my question with an answer. I could not free myself from the monstrous
grip as the claws dug into my flesh and fingers tightened as I struggled. The
pain emanating from my ripped muscle tissue was unbearable.
    I felt
my feet losing contact with the ground as I was lifted upward. Stretching my
toes downward, I hoped to find footing to no avail.
    My
back brushed against the creature's torso as I was drawn nearer. I wanted to
scream, but in my fright I was unable to issue a solitary sound.
    The
being's breathing was heavy and smelled rancid. The warm air and smell coupled
with my impending doom made me nauseated. I felt the sudden deep relief huffing
of a hunger about to be satisfied grace my neck. The beast paused after taking
a final sniff.
    I
thought I was going to pass out. My head was spinning as my body went
completely slack.
    A
crazily depraved scream covered the animalistic utterances of the monster who
was threatening to kill me. I rapidly realized the scream was my own as a
single fang pierced the skin of my throat.
    I
awoke trying to grab at my throat to find my hands bound at my sides by
metallic strapping attached to a metal bed. Struggling to free myself, the
strapping was digging into the skin on my wrists causing them to begin to
bleed. A frayed strand of the woven metal broke free, sliding underneath my
skin with ease. I winced at the pain though it was minimal; no more than a
large caliber needle used to draw blood. It was the unusual feeling of something
inside my skin that bothered me more.
    The
drugs were rapidly wearing off. My bones ached; blood drizzled from my chaffed
wrists. My head felt as if the top of my skull was being hacked off with a dull
axe, and worse, I still did not know where or why I was being held.
    Easing
up from the bed, I attempted to sit somewhat upright so I could look around,
using my elbows to hold myself in position, careful not to pinch my already raw
wrists again. I called aloud, "Where am I?"
    My
vision began returning to normal from its blurry state with every blink.
Faintly, I could see a group of people dressed in dark military attire carrying
weapons milling above me on a series of gray walkways.
    The
ceiling of the room was stark white with large rectangular fluorescent lights
spaced evenly apart. Following the ceiling down, men and women dressed in
surgical uniforms were scrambling hurriedly to place medical machines in the
room.
    "Hello?
Can you tell me what is going on?"
    No one
acknowledged my questions or acknowledged me.
    A
female clad in blue scrubs pushed a cart covered by a blue drape within two
feet of the bed.
    I
spoke to her, "Can you tell me what is happening? What is wrong with
me?"
    The
woman turned to me. I could tell she was in her late twenties to mid-thirties with
brown hair and highlights of auburn hanging