14. 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅

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𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅

𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅

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   The hall was straight with windows on each side, showing nothing but darkness. The rain was tapping against the glass surface. It held an uncanny echo. Danger. Power. Fear.

His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he opened the door to the cold room, and skidded to a halt, a look of shock written all over his face and the two words he breathed out were enough to catch all of their attention.

"She's alive."

Two eyes opened up in the darkness, two dark and twisted eyes stared at him, matching his and the countless of others surrounding in the room.

"It was a dream– a– a vision. She's alive," he explained his confusion.

She shook her head, finding it impossible to believe. "No. It can't be. They've been dead for a long time. We even searched everywhere."

"They kept her hidden." Another voice spoke.

"She's finally here," he said. "If you don't believe me then look into my mind." He stepped forward. She eyed him carefully and held his hand into hers.

She gasped when a beautiful brunette woman flashed through her eyes. Glowing purple irises with flecks of gold that held power. An immense amount one could feel by just this image.

The woman blinked, letting go of the man. Eyes turned to her, curious to know if what she saw was true.

"It's finally time," she announced.

A twisted grin stretched on their lips, glancing to one another, whispering.

Looking towards the wall, a painting. They bowed down to it, swearing their loyalty to their only hope that promised a better future for them.

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1999

Tracing the tip of her feet on the marble floor out of boredom, Evelyn's eyes moved towards the principal's office when Grayson and Miranda stepped out, disappointment written on their faces.

The 8 year old casted her eyes down back to the ground, her hands forming into a fist that were resting on her lap.

Miranda sat beside her and Grayson crouched down in front of her. "I want to hear your side of the story," Grayson spoke in a soft tone to their daughter.

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, 𝗄𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖺𝖾𝗅𝗌𝗈𝗇Where stories live. Discover now