Poison's Party
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The crowd pushed forward as the fire at the rear blazed. The flames were a burning red but they weren't made from them, no, they were made from the enemy. The ones who they were going against.
The youngest person in the crowd was a boy of fourteen years and seven months. There's a black ring around his right eye and a cut on his lip directly below. They could have been previous battle wounds, or the current ones. There'd be no difference between them.
One would say rebelling against society would be suicide, and perhaps they were right, but this crowd was determined. They had a message to spread and they were going to shout it as loud as they could despite how many bodies had to fall in the progress. They knew the risks when they stepped into the crowd, and not one of them looked back with a hint of doubt.
The barriers that stopped them getting away were slowly breaking at the edges; force upon force was being thrown against them. No one could explain where their sudden insane determination came from – parents would later claim that they were turned by the nightmares they faced – and the thing that they couldn't explain either was why it came now.
Nothing big had happened recently, no new laws, nothing in the political matter and yet here they were, fighting away to get their message across and around the politics world.
The encouraging words of 'you're doin' alright' vibrated along their souls, almost as if someone was speaking to them personally, and no one outside the crowd could hear. It was how it was supposed to happen, and now it was happening like it.
The riot squad were on the other side of the barrier, batons and shields at the ready. Fully kitted and protected, they stand waiting for the barrier to come tumbling down. It was hardly fair against the crowd, kitted in normal clothes and some armed with spray cans whilst others with small explosives.
No one claimed this would be a non-violent fight; their wish was to not die but they would if they had to. And doing so would be going against their leader's words. The words that spelt out why they were doing this.
Sweat trickled down the backs and necks of the people surrounded by the flames at the back of the crowd. Not yet touching at fabric of anyone's body but it was teasing enough to make them fearful about losing it before they had got their message across.
The ones at the front pushed against the barrier, the left side fully broken off but the right side they were still working on. Their rush of adrenaline steadily carried on rising.
When the first creak from the right side happened, many of the ones at the back held their breaths. Whether in suspense or worry, no one would know, but they soon let it out when a second creak followed by a third and fourth happened. And by the time it had reached the eighth creak huge smile were spread among the faces in the crowd. Then when it creaked it's final creak a huge cheer was cried from the crowd. The pin-pointed location that it started from in the back, someone within the small group who were close to being consumed by the flames.
The barrier broke a lot quicker then the riot squad had thought but they were still ready and prepared for the crowd. But then again, the crowd was also prepared for them.
A boy of nineteen and three days stood on top of a car at the front of the crowd, automatically making every set of eyes within the group turn towards him. And almost instantly it was like an intense staring contest was happening.
The line of officers in the riot squad exchanged confused glances at what the crowd was doing; dangerous and with a death wish was what they were meant to be. In reality dangerous they were, with a death wish they weren't.
Suddenly the boy on top of the car raised his fist in the air and opened his mouth. “Party's Poison” were the two words he uttered before the crowd surged forwards, slightly taking the officers off guard.
The crowd had been underestimated and it was clear the officers were overwhelmed with the amount of them because on the left end of the line, men were falling. And it wasn't anyone from the crowd.
The ones who beat the line ran towards the building they aimed for. Said building was a white stoned one that had several shocked faces peering out of the top floor window.
First person who reached the building was a sixteen year old girl, armed with a spray can, she popped the lid and began the message in a vivid red colour.
Some of the officers were retreating backwards, the thriving crowd of teenagers proving too much for them. Other officers stayed to do their job but failing miserable when they were beaten and trampled down to the ground. When they needed to be, the crowd could be a much more violent and dangerous place than one would think.
The first message was displayed loud and clear; 'This ain't a party' was what it read. The second message was being dealt with in a black colour.
One officer was being dealt with by the boy who had stood on the car previously. Down and grounded from being trampled, the boy kept him floored whilst waiting for someone to pass him the item he had requested. He felt as if he were dishing out what this officer and his squad dished out all the time, except the boy's was going to be a bit more violent because hey, isn't that what they're known for?
A strangled scream erupted from the officer when the flames from the stick met with his skin and clothes. They stuck and burned along his clothing, scarring the skin beneath whilst doing so. And all throughout it the group who stood around him wore smiles of victory.
The second message was finished and done; the black lettering read 'I got the answer'.
There was no indication as to what the phrases meant to anyone outside of the group, not even when the last message in a stunning blue colour was wrote out that spoke the words 'Poison's party'.
With the messages up and the windows smashed, the crowd slowly backed away from the building, smiling adorning each and every bruised face. And one by one, they turned away, trailing back past the fallen officers and off to their base. Not to return until another message needed to be spread.
And even though these messages on the white building were cryptic and not understood by anyone outside of the group, they gave the desired effect.
The effect that went undetected by the remaining public, the naive and power fearing people. The exact ones who were the targets in this whole riot.
The youngest person in the crowd was a boy of fourteen years and seven months. There's a black ring around his right eye and a cut on his lip directly below. They could have been previous battle wounds, or the current ones. There'd be no difference between them.
One would say rebelling against society would be suicide, and perhaps they were right, but this crowd was determined. They had a message to spread and they were going to shout it as loud as they could despite how many bodies had to fall in the progress. They knew the risks when they stepped into the crowd, and not one of them looked back with a hint of doubt.
The barriers that stopped them getting away were slowly breaking at the edges; force upon force was being thrown against them. No one could explain where their sudden insane determination came from – parents would later claim that they were turned by the nightmares they faced – and the thing that they couldn't explain either was why it came now.
Nothing big had happened recently, no new laws, nothing in the political matter and yet here they were, fighting away to get their message across and around the politics world.
The encouraging words of 'you're doin' alright' vibrated along their souls, almost as if someone was speaking to them personally, and no one outside the crowd could hear. It was how it was supposed to happen, and now it was happening like it.
The riot squad were on the other side of the barrier, batons and shields at the ready. Fully kitted and protected, they stand waiting for the barrier to come tumbling down. It was hardly fair against the crowd, kitted in normal clothes and some armed with spray cans whilst others with small explosives.
No one claimed this would be a non-violent fight; their wish was to not die but they would if they had to. And doing so would be going against their leader's words. The words that spelt out why they were doing this.
Sweat trickled down the backs and necks of the people surrounded by the flames at the back of the crowd. Not yet touching at fabric of anyone's body but it was teasing enough to make them fearful about losing it before they had got their message across.
The ones at the front pushed against the barrier, the left side fully broken off but the right side they were still working on. Their rush of adrenaline steadily carried on rising.
When the first creak from the right side happened, many of the ones at the back held their breaths. Whether in suspense or worry, no one would know, but they soon let it out when a second creak followed by a third and fourth happened. And by the time it had reached the eighth creak huge smile were spread among the faces in the crowd. Then when it creaked it's final creak a huge cheer was cried from the crowd. The pin-pointed location that it started from in the back, someone within the small group who were close to being consumed by the flames.
The barrier broke a lot quicker then the riot squad had thought but they were still ready and prepared for the crowd. But then again, the crowd was also prepared for them.
A boy of nineteen and three days stood on top of a car at the front of the crowd, automatically making every set of eyes within the group turn towards him. And almost instantly it was like an intense staring contest was happening.
The line of officers in the riot squad exchanged confused glances at what the crowd was doing; dangerous and with a death wish was what they were meant to be. In reality dangerous they were, with a death wish they weren't.
Suddenly the boy on top of the car raised his fist in the air and opened his mouth. “Party's Poison” were the two words he uttered before the crowd surged forwards, slightly taking the officers off guard.
The crowd had been underestimated and it was clear the officers were overwhelmed with the amount of them because on the left end of the line, men were falling. And it wasn't anyone from the crowd.
The ones who beat the line ran towards the building they aimed for. Said building was a white stoned one that had several shocked faces peering out of the top floor window.
First person who reached the building was a sixteen year old girl, armed with a spray can, she popped the lid and began the message in a vivid red colour.
Some of the officers were retreating backwards, the thriving crowd of teenagers proving too much for them. Other officers stayed to do their job but failing miserable when they were beaten and trampled down to the ground. When they needed to be, the crowd could be a much more violent and dangerous place than one would think.
The first message was displayed loud and clear; 'This ain't a party' was what it read. The second message was being dealt with in a black colour.
One officer was being dealt with by the boy who had stood on the car previously. Down and grounded from being trampled, the boy kept him floored whilst waiting for someone to pass him the item he had requested. He felt as if he were dishing out what this officer and his squad dished out all the time, except the boy's was going to be a bit more violent because hey, isn't that what they're known for?
A strangled scream erupted from the officer when the flames from the stick met with his skin and clothes. They stuck and burned along his clothing, scarring the skin beneath whilst doing so. And all throughout it the group who stood around him wore smiles of victory.
The second message was finished and done; the black lettering read 'I got the answer'.
There was no indication as to what the phrases meant to anyone outside of the group, not even when the last message in a stunning blue colour was wrote out that spoke the words 'Poison's party'.
With the messages up and the windows smashed, the crowd slowly backed away from the building, smiling adorning each and every bruised face. And one by one, they turned away, trailing back past the fallen officers and off to their base. Not to return until another message needed to be spread.
And even though these messages on the white building were cryptic and not understood by anyone outside of the group, they gave the desired effect.
The effect that went undetected by the remaining public, the naive and power fearing people. The exact ones who were the targets in this whole riot.