Sour Hearts

Short Intro, The Start.

I lied on my bed, silky, long, black hair with neon green streaks spread around the bed. My green eyes almost looked as if they where glowing from the light of the obnoxiously bright phone I was sticking in my face at 1 in the morning. I would happily turn down the brightness, but this was currently my only source of light. My eyes began to feel heavy as the hours passed by. Eventually, I found myself lying in bed in the morning, staring off into space. My nose hurt, probably because my phone fell on my face while I zoned out for hours on end. I didn't bother to do anything about it though, I didn't even budge.

I felt my phone vibrate on my chest, it must have slid down there after it fell. I picked it up and looked, my alarm set to wake me up was going off. I sighed as I sat up lazily, I don't want to get up, but I had to. I got ready, dressed, brushed my teeth, my hair, did my heavy eyeliner and mascara. I grabbed my bag, and headed to school.

. . .

The bell rung as I sat down in the classroom, it was rather bland in there. This was one of the best examples I could give when I explain how schools drain your creativity and flair. I could already feel drained. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turn, and sitting at my side was a beautiful girl. Her flowing pink hair rested on her shoulders, and the sun made her hazel eyes glisten. I could feel my face turn abit red. "Uh..?" I didn't want to seem rude, but I could barely utter a word at the moment. "Hi! ..sorry if I startled you, uhm, do you have a pencil I could borrow? I gave my last one to my friend on the way here." The girl awkwardly asked and followed her words with a delightfully charming giggle. "Oh.. uhm yeah, no prob- I've got one here.." To be honest, I wasn't being very honest at the moment, I had no idea if I had another pencil. I digged In my bag for a minute or so and finally pulled out a pencil and confidently handed it to the girl. "Here you are, madam." I winked, jokingly. "Haha, thanks." She smiled as I watched her tair a piece off of the corner of her paper and write something on it. The teacher started talking, so she quietly slid the little note to me. I looked at it closer, and quickly realized it was her number. She looked at me and grinned, then returned to her note taking.

Soon, when school ended, I rushed to the hang out.. or to you guys, in cheesy terms it would be called a.. ugh.. "villain lair". Most people don't believe this exists, they're ignorant. But, there are "heros" and "villains" in this world. And NO, we don't have some stupid overused super powers, we just fight (although Neru is a rare case, she was in a weird lab type thing as a child, so now she can heal people or whatever, I dunno. Kinda cool though.) Now, here, in my opinion, the "heros" are more like vigilantes, because they aren't technically supposed to be doing what they're doing, but many get away with it. Now I, am a part of a group of villains. I'm the youngest in the group, age 16. My name is Yukki.

My partners in crime are cool too, they're in their twenties though. They're sort of like.. parents to me. Ryuketsu and Neru. Ryuketsu is a seductive, yet morbid woman, who takes pleasure in capturing men, forcing them to drink their own blood and then.. she eats their hearts. Yuck. Then, we have Neru; a sweet, caring girl. She believes that nobody should die in fear, but still takes pleasure in ending lives. She makes sure they're at peace whilst killing them. She sneaks into their rooms at night and convinces the tired person that they're still dreaming, and that she's their guardian angel. She then kidnaps them, puts them to sleep, and injects them with a lethal poison. Since Ryuketsu and Neru have such different views on killing techniques, they argue a LOT, but to me? I'm pretty sure they're TOTALLY in love.

Aaaand then there's me. Yup, I'm a part of this. Do I kill? Yes, but not often. I usually only do if I'm instructed to do so. Which isn't super often, mostly because we're trying to keep me out of most drama, just in case the police catches up with us.