Sapphire and Brick

''Note from the author: Placeholder title. I wanted to make this way longer, but maybe it's good as it is, without all the mysteriousness. Though I have to say, the cliffhanger is pretty awesome. This was almost a medieval story featuring the same sword, but I decided this would be better. Well, that's it. Enjoy!''

Prologue
Thousands of times, I have been told by the thousands of survivors in The Building (maybe it was an apartment building, maybe offices, it doesn't matter hundreds of years later) that that is his sword that that girl carries, and that she wants to continue the mess that he started. They're always avoiding me because of that stupid sword. (Yes, you're wondering why I'm writing about this girl in third person and then in first person. Keep reading.)  To put this in perspective, I've seen people licking old butcher knives for food. Clean ones, at that.

It amazes me, though, that people would dare to tell generations of children the story of him, who tore this city and everyone in it to ashes, leaving nobody and nothing left but that blasted building and everyone in it. And then they would tell them about me, the girl with the sapphire-studded sword, and say, Avoid her at all costs or bad things will happen.

They're right about that; I have an unbelievably short temper. But they're also wrong. Just like everyone else, I followed the one rule of The Building: Do or take anything, if it helps you live another day.

I don't remember when I found the sword. I only know that it works for me as it works for him. For everyone else, it works like a regular sword, but for him... well, things got bad. Honestly, some days I think strange stuff, like living when he was destroying everything would be almost as bad as living now.

By the way, my name's Samantha. Samantha Murray. But if you see me without a sword (or at least a one with sapphires on it), best to call me Sam. Most people in The Building recognize me as a harmless girl when I'm Sam.

You're probably shocked by all this, but you have him to thank for destroying my world. He took this book and gave it back to someone from long ago, but it just might find its way back here. At least someone might know my story then.

Chapter One
As I walked through the marketplace on the ground level, I inspected the makeshift stands as if they were priceless works of art, seeing what goods people had crafted out of scraps of wood and yarn today. They sat on a few square yards of floor on either side of the wide aisle bordering the staircase in the middle of the floor, sitting on a mat of old clothes. The lucky few who had bargained so much for a 'table' had brought it. Entire families were squeezed onto some of the mats, calling out for someone to trade for some product.

I noticed a man with nary a tooth to be seen waving me over to his table. I sighed and walked to the edge of the aisle where he was standing. "What do you want now, Snyder?"

Snyder toothlessly grinned, telling me, "You won't believe this! I found some real old stuff-you know, before him- and I figured out how they kept track of stuff!  I could teach you if-"

"Snyder," I interrupted. "What do you really want to tell me? You know you don't want whatever I have." It was true. Snyder was pudgier than he should have been, with a belly burdening the effect of pregnancy earned from pigeonholing all the food available, and his mousy brown hair having too many hair products in it at once.

Snyder sighed and lowered his voice. "You know how no one has seen much of that girl lately?" I froze. That girl was me. I was undercover right now. I would never have thought that Snyder would be the one to uncover my secret, but if he did, it would still be game over for me.

"I've been wondering if you've seen her 'round your place," Snyder continued. I internally sighed with relief. I was still safe. "You know I don't live even close to where they say she lives," I reminded him. That wasn't a lie. The rumors were that Samantha Murray lived out the doors of The Building, where there was nothing but rubble and radioactive sludge. I actually lived in a small cubicle that was maybe 2 yards long and wide. I smoothed my hair, which was tied back into a long ponytail. "Is that it?"

"Yeah," Snyder said. "You can leave now. Bye, Sam!" He waved at me as I walked away.

I was too stunned to wave back.

He had been way too close...

Chapter Two
Snyder and I have a complicated relationship. I guess I shouldn't take him for granted, since we first met when Snyder found me wandering around, a tiny little thing, and gave me some food. He treats me like an adult, too, though that's nothing special. Even the babies are taken seriously. Everyone that can walk and talk barters in a part of the marketplace at least once a week. So yeah, I'm normal...

Well... at least when I'm Sam.

Then I remembered what Snyder and I had been talking about, and I started to worry again. Soon, Snyder would start leading a manhunt or something for Samantha Murray, then they would find me with my sword, and then...

I didn't want to imagine then.

The thing was, revealing myself wouldn't just get me shunned for life; no one would want to trade with me even if they didn't toss me out the top floor window.

Which meant no food. Which meant starvation.

It was a two-way crossroads, and both were dead ends. The only way to go was off the trail.

As I gathered up my things into a makeshift pack, I noticed the rubber mask on the ground next to my door and picked it up. It was incredibly lifelike, so lifelike, that maybe I could even-

Then, I noticed the note stuck to the back. It only said: THINK YOU'LL NEED THIS SOON.

My hands were suddenly, against my will, slapping on the mask, swinging the pack onto my shoulder, bulling the hood of my blud hoodie over my face, reaching for my sword...

I froze.

His sword. The one who destroyed everything. I had never seen him in real life, but in the pictures I had seen, he was always standing or a blur, his sword, my sword, in one hand, and in the other, his stopwatch, the one that no one had any idea what it could do. And on his face-

My eyes widened. It was the same expressionless mask on my face right now.

But then why would... how would... who would...

Then I remembered what I was supposed to be doing, cursed, and bolted.

Chapter Three
I was glad I had a cubicle on the first floor. Running downstairs was slow and actually really dangerous, which I had learned the hard way (don't ask).

I peeked out from the doorway of my hall. The door to outside was on the other side of the floor. There were two ways to go, separated by a huge stairwell. Both sides were filled with market stands.

The right side was selling a handfull of weapons. Everyone on the left side was selling crafts.

I turned left.

As I ran down the aisle, someone shouted, "Hey, the sword girl's running away! Someone stop here!" I froze for a second, imagining all the horrifying scenarios of what could come next, and was snapped back to reality when someone got up and started running after me. ''From the right side. ''And I couldn't see him in the being-chased-by-the-idiot position I was in. How pathetic was that?

I slowed down to catch my breath, but the pursuer used that to his advantage, getting close enough to swipe at my belt with a-

Wait. That was a metal hook of a stick. He was trying to take my sword! An absurd bout of laughter bubbled from my mouth. No one could ever take my sword, much less use it. As hard as someone pulled, it remained firmly in it's trusty sheath. Of course, only until I reached for it, and then-

''Shing. ''I looked down. I must have absentmindedly pulled out the sword. Before I could even register the moment, my arms, against my will, sliced at the man's chest. He crumbled into dust.

I wanted to stare at the tiny remains of this man I had murdered, but there was no time to waste. I raced towards the rusty doors and pushed them open, shoving centuries of rust and decay away. But I still couldn't breathe as I took in the view.

It was no longer the wasteland it was rumored to be. It was a lush grassland with trees, and he must have spared the animals too, because I spotted deer grazing in the field. All the windows were clouded up in The Building, but if only they knew. There was no time to waste, though. I sprinted to a hiding spot, and once I was sure I was safe, I breathed in the earthy scent.

My name is Samantha Murray.

I was free, at last.