Chapter 1 || From the Depths of Hell

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As the sun rolled off the sky, a hooded girl walked out from the store with a handful of bags.

It was getting late, quicker than she had expected. (Y/n) was sent out to pick up a few groceries before sun-fall, which her mother needed for dinner.

Even with a small list in mind, (Y/n) had ended up buying more than needed, as usual.

As always.

"So much for saving", she mutters, glancing down at her hands. From her fingers to her wrists, every bag wrapped itself around her, straining to swallow more. (Y/n) bites the inside of her mouth, her hands hissing.

The silence weighed her soul. The streets were deserted, no life form seen, no crickets to hear from. The street lamps flickered at the fierce roar of the clouds clashing against one another.

It was going to rain, and she needed to get home, fast.

As the wind whispered (Y/n) shivered in its touch.

(Y/n) exhaled, quivering, clenching on the bags tighter. The only way home was to walk, and home was nowhere near.

Just the thought of walking in heavy rain had her chilled to the bone.

(Y/n) sped through the street, tense. Almost forgetting the plastic bags were slowly slipping off. Her fingers turned blue.

Within moments a bag snapped.

Veggies on the ground.

"You have to be kidding me" (Y/n) grumbles, untangling her hands on the nearest bench, off to pick up the fallen groceries.

A few capsicums managed to roll down to the road. (Y/n) swiftly picks up all the groceries, only to realise the sudden limitation of bags. Left with many veggies at hand.

Huffing, (Y/n) shoves the veggies down in one of the other bags, hoping it wouldn't snap.

Just when she was about to leave, a mandarin rolled closer to her foot.

"When did that get there?", (Y/n) whispers crouching down reaching for the mandarin.


" I wouldn't touch that . . . If I were you".

"What–" (Y/n)'s eyes widened, snapping her head behind, only to see no-one, but hear the sound of wind passing by. (Y/n) shakes her head standing up, looking back at the mandarin to see nothing but a pile of dust whirling away.

(Y/n) stood still- aghast.

Another clash of the clouds was heard; a war cry, the beginning of the blood-shed.

"The groceries!", (Y/n) exclaimed, rushing for the bags as it began to pour.

*                     *                     *     

This was definitely not ideal.

(Y/n) rustled the keys as she shut the door behind her, her hair sticking to her face. Drenched, with lovely  wet groceries in hand. "And I just washed my hair yesterday", (Y/n) whines, meeting with a sneeze right after, left with a sense of ickiness.

Carefully placing the bags on the kitchen counter, (Y/n) spots a sticky-note on the fridge.

She begins to read- "Hey (Y/n), I had a call from work, I'll be back within half-an-hour or so- hopefully. Start the barbeque outside would you? Or order from K.F.C the choice is yours. From your one and only; mother", (Y/n) smiles gently as she spots the poorly drawn smiley face on the note. She glances at the clock, "It's nearly seven. Guess, I'll have to rush things''. (Y/n) began to rinse and dry the veggies into the fridge. Soon after, heading to the bathroom for a quick head-to-toe shower.

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