The Fight for Love (Sequel to the Opposites) Book 2

The Mark of the Serpentine

(Hi everyone I hope you all are having a great day! And I got some news for all of you, so originally I was writing this book on my own however, as of now this book is now being written by two people as of this chapter and on as you'll see below. The author is ManOfManyTails which I know some of you know and have read, and we're both working together now on this book. It will still be keeping it's main premises. But with a few...and by few I mean a lot of added details. And personally we're both super excited for this. We've talked a bit over this book and it's definitely become a lot more interesting than it was originally. We both have a lot of ideas that are gonna be implemented...so I'm also going over and revising the story a bit making things work which surprisingly everything being added fits pretty well. Anyways with that enough with my excessive rambling and hope you guys enjoy the chapter!)

"Life isn't about the destination, it's about the journey." (This definitely isn't mine but I can't find the origins of who it came from)

(???'s POV) ( Written by ManOfManyTails, instead of NightSlasher93)

BZZZZZ!!!!!

I jerked awake, to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing loudly. I reached over to the nightstand that held my alarm clock and went to turn it off, but I just knocked it off the stand and onto the ground forcing myself to get out of bed to turn it off. It was only 4:30 AM, very early in the morning. I yawned and stretched, still half asleep. I looked over to my left, half expecting to see him there. But, just as it's been for the past 4 years, he wasn't there. I felt tears coming to my eyes and cascading down my cheeks. Pull yourself together, now's not the time for sulking. I thought, sadly. I got out of bed and walked over to my window, and pulled the curtains apart. It was dark outside, very dark. I looked up at the sky and sighed. The London sky was so beautiful, and always has been. I looked out into my yard and saw a dog, this big gray dog. The same damned dog that was always hanging out in my yard. I've been trying to pet it, to feed it or anything, but it just runs away. I sighed again and closed the curtains. I walked over to my closet and picked out some clothes. I normally wore outfits consisting of a pair of white and black sneakers, a pair of gray sweatpants, a navy blue hoodie that's too big for me and y black glove. And today as no exception, and I picked out my outfit. After putting it on I went to the very back of my closet and pulled out 2 cases, one labeled "Defibrillator" and the other, "Capes." I took the two cases and put them onto my bed.

I opened up the "Defibrillator" case, revealing a black metal gauntlet with silver plates on the palm and a knob on the back of its arm part. The Defibrillator is a very, very dangerous weapon, able to kill about 50 elephants on only power level 20. It's power levels varied from 1-100, 1 being a small shock, 100 instantly killing any creature on the planet, and if it's being used on 100, it's user will more likely than not, be killed as well. Nothing biological could wield it, no human , no hybrid and no imperfect hybrid could possibly do it. My "Capes'' are some of my favorite weapons, and they were all attached to the one right hand gauntlet. I have a white one, which flipped around people and projectiles alike, a thunder cape, which didn't flip anything around but was electrical, and still nowhere near as powerful as my Defibrillator. And I have my black one, which was made for defensive purposes, able to tank almost any hit possible.

I'm an imperfect hybrid, not a 50/50 mix like normal hybrids. I had a lot more animalistic features than most hybrids. But when you look at me, you'll see an orange and white anthropomorphic canine as opposed to a cross between human and animal. Some people give me weird looks because imperfect hybrids are incredibly rare to find outside of Europe, and even rarer than the Golden Hybrids. So I always was a bit special. And really, really, really broken. When I was 8 years old, my father was slaughtered right in front of me by a man-beast named Xangle. And I had never recovered, I was left broken, and emotionless, and suicidal, and lonely for the rest of my life. Until I was about 16 and I met him...I started crying at the memory of him, of my love.