Bound By Thorns (Part 01)-Scrapped Draft

A story about sacrifices, self-worth and unexpected friendships and bonds

Set in a fictional city where people have supernatural abilities which they use for developement of the city.

Might feel disconnected but it'll make sense.

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The wind howled fiercely in my ears, while the cold air clung to me like a second skin. My shoes were silent against the pavement, slick with frost. Each breath I took misted the air in front of me, a ghostly whisper in the stillness of the night.
The bag of food was heavy in my arms, but it was a good kind of heavy—the kind that meant we’d be full tonight, not just pretending. The plastic crinkled with every step, but I didn’t care if someone heard.
I was too tired to be scared, and too hungry to care.
It had been two days—maybe three—since either of us had eaten more than scraps. I stopped counting after the second day. You get used to ignoring the gnawing after a while, like tuning out a song you’ve heard too many times.
Our city used to hum with life. Shopkeepers with a hearty smile on their faces, music spilling out of open windows, people laughing in the streets.
Now it’s just empty. The warmth that once filled every corner now felt like a distant memory.
My fingers were numb by the time I reached the alley. Same one every night. Same cracked bricks and faded graffiti. Same rusted fire escape groaning above like it could snap any minute. But it was ours.
Our home…in a way.
Jason was there, but he was not alone.
A girl,
Judging by the voice.
Soft, uncertain. Not street-tough like us, but careful. Like she knew the city could bite.
I paused at the corner, my breath catching in my throat. Not fear exactly—just surprise. And something sharper under that. I’d never seen him with anyone else before.
He was sitting on the ground, half hidden by a dumpster, and she stood in front of him. She spoke to him in a hushed, whispered tone.
I stood there at the mouth of the alley, quietly watching them. They were so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them had noticed me.
Jason didn’t look up, didn’t wave me over like he usually did. He just sat there, eyes locked on the girl.
Something about the way he looked at her unsettled me.
I just stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
He was nodding, like he trusted her. Like he knew her. I couldn’t see her face but she didn’t feel like much of a threat.
She was wearing a strange gear with guns and daggers strapped all over it. It was not the usual city-scavenged mix of rusted blades and makeshift weapons—this stuff was clean, sharp, intentional, too many for someone just passing through. Nothing about her screamed danger, not the way she stood or spoke, but all the weapons with her meant otherwise.
But Jason was too relaxed to be bothered by any of that. He was talking to her like he already knew she was not a threat.
I took a step forward, the snow crunched beneath my feet
That’s when she looked up.
Her eyes met mine, glowing a faint green. Then, without a word, she raised her hand.
It was like the earth heard her call.
A sweet floral scent filled the air before the cracks in the pavement split wide open. Thick vines erupted from beneath the snow, coiling toward me like they’d been waiting. I barely had time to move before one wrapped around my ankle, yanking me off balance. I hit the ground hard, hands scraping against frozen concrete.
More vines slithered around me—fast and strong, like snakes with purpose. They wrapped around my wrists, my legs, my waist, pinning me down in a cold, green cage. I thrashed, but it was useless. The vines weren’t just plants—they listened to her.
The bag I had landed on the ground with a weak thud, its contents spilling out in slow motion like a cruel joke.
‘‘You are not going anywhere.’’ the girl said, ‘‘I knew someone was watching us. Who are you and what are you doing here?’’
“I should be the one asking you that!” I snapped, still breathing hard against the vines that were now pressing in on my ribs.’’What the fuck is going on here, Jason?’’
He flinched at the sound of his name—like hearing it out loud broke some spell he’d been under. He looked between us, guilt flashing across his face like a kid caught between two angry parents.
The girl didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. Her hand stayed raised, steady, commanding the vines with nothing but a thought.
Then she turned to him and asked, voice low but sharp, “Do you know her?”
He didn’t say anything, didn’t move from his spot on the ground. Instead he kept his head down.
This was nothing like him.
The silence stretched, sharp and ugly. The vines didn’t loosen. If anything, they tightened, the one around my ribs pressing in just enough to make breathing feel like a struggle. Not crushing—just reminding me that there was no escape.
"Jason," I said again, softer this time. Not angry. Just confused. “Just tell me what’s going on here?”
But he kept quiet.
What’s up with him? I thought, a bit frustrated but also worried
He was usually not like this.
Something was wrong.
“He is injured,” the girl said and with a wave of her hand, the vines obediently retreated. “I found him here like this. I just wanted to help. I apologise for pulling that stunt.”
I gasped as the pressure around my ribs disappeared, cold air rushing back into my lungs. The vines slithered away like they were never there, leaving shallow grooves in the snow-dusted pavement. My arms dropped to my sides, aching and shaky, but free.
I pushed myself up slowly, eyes flicking between him and the girl. She was already crouching beside him again, her fingers quick and practiced as she pulled back the torn sleeve of his jacket.
Then she looked back at me, waiting to see how I would react.
“He had told me about you. But I was not expecting someone so young.” She said.
I narrowed my eyes, brushing snow from my sleeves. My hands still trembled, but it wasn’t from the cold anymore.
“Friends,” I said, the word sharp on my tongue. “We’re friends. You didn’t have to ambush me like that.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Then you shouldn't have acted like a threat, " she said.
“This is my place to stay for the night. You are the one who is intruding.”
“I think I already apologised,” she said with a quiet sigh.
“That won't satisfy my hunger, will it now?”
That’s when I saw it—blood, dark and dried around the edges, but still oozing near the center of the wound. His arm was barely intact, his veins dark and pulsing under his skin. His skin looked bruised beneath the surface, almost…tainted.
He shrank away under my gaze, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face.
He looked…different.
His hair was messier than usual, and his eyes looked more tired. I knelt beside him without a second thought, the food momentarily forgotten.
He refused to meet my gaze. I knew better than to force him.
“I am so sorry, Ayka.” he said, “I didn’t want to make you worry. I am fine.”
The words felt too light, too rehearsed. Like he was trying to end the conversation before it could start.
I didn’t buy it.
“You arm is fucked up. How am I supposed to believe that?”
My words made him flinch again.
Not just flinch—recoil. Like it burned him.
“I got attacked on the way here.” He said, “Those damn addicts got me. Came outta nowhere. I didn’t even see them until—”
He stopped himself. Jaw clenched.
I didn’t press. Not yet.
“Were you here to help him?” I asked the girl.
She simply nodded.
“And why exactly do you have that?” I gestured towards her gun.
“I am not allowed to say anything, but you can say I am a part of a group. This is for my safety. I am not your enemy. Trust me if you want.”
“So… there are more people like you?”
She nodded again.
“You can trust her, Ayka.” Jason said, “I know her even before you came into my life.”
I didn’t say anything right away.
The wind picked up, rattling the fire escape above us. My fingers twitched at my sides, aching from where the vines had held me down. I could still feel their ghostly grip, even though they were long gone.
She pulled herself up from the ground and dusted the snow off her jeans.
I stayed where I was, still crouched beside him. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but I could tell he was listening—shoulders tense, jaw tight.
She took a deep breath, the kind that steadied nerves or buried truths. I couldn't tell.
Her eyes scanned the alley for a moment—out of habit, maybe. Or maybe she was still deciding if I was going to be a problem.
She ran a hand through her hair and then looked at him.
“I don't know how much you know about the drug crisis going on. But that…” she pointed at Jason, “It’s not going to be good if it's left untreated. Whoever he had encountered before has managed to administer the drug into his system. If we are not quick about it, he loses his life, even if it's a small dose.”
The drug…?
I have seen stuff about it on the news. But I never knew this is what it does to the body.
I was not sure if I could trust her but it felt like she knew what she was talking about.
“How are you going to help him?” I asked, “Do you have anything of use?”
She pulled out a small vial with a glowing liquid, “Yes but I am not sure if it would work. We haven’t tested it properly yet. But it should help, if he is on the initial stage.”
I stared at the vial, its glow flickering like a heartbeat in her hand.
Jason groaned beside me, the color draining from his face by the second. His veins were even darker now, pulsing like the drug was alive inside him.
Still, I shook my head. “No.”
She looked at me, surprised. “What?”
“You’re not using that on him,” I said firmly, pushing myself up until I was standing between them. “If it’s not tested, then he’s not going to be your experiment.”
She didn’t move, but I could see the tension ripple through her shoulders. “I told you—it might be the only thing that can stop the infection from spreading.”
“Might,” I snapped. “You said it yourself. You don’t even know if it works.”
Jason stirred weakly, trying to sit up, but I gently pushed him back down.
“He’s not some test subject you can poke at and hope for the best,” I said,
Her fingers curled around the vial, her knuckles white.
A flicker of frustration passed across her face, but she kept her voice even—barely.
“Then what do you suggest?” she asked, eyes sharp as broken glass. “You don’t want to use this, fine. Tell me what we should do instead.”
Her tone wasn’t angry. Not quite. But it carried the weight of someone used to being the only one who does something while everyone else stands around waiting for a miracle.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My fingers curled at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
“Well?” she pressed, stepping forward. “Do you have a better cure? A faster way to purge it from his system? Anything?”
The snow crackled under my boots as I took a step back, instinctively shielding Jason even though I knew she wasn’t attacking.
“I…” My throat felt tight. “I can try healing him.”
She looked at me like I’d just offered a band-aid to a house on fire. “You’re a healer?” she asked, her tone unreadable.
I nodded. “Well it’s nothing flashy like your vines. But I don’t want you to think I am weak. I don’t have to use a something physical to beat the living hell out of you if you try anything. But… ”
I looked at him and back at her, “If he trusts you then I think I should trust you too.”
It wasn’t easy—trust wasn’t something I handed out freely anymore. Not after everything.



TO BE CONTINUED