( T w o )
2013Red lights flashed in the halls of La Academia de la Corona Real, The Royal Crown Academy. It was finals week and Group C was up. Tests like archery, weaponry, and psychology have already been completed. From those, rankings were determined to see which person was put into which group.
Everyone traded in their school uniforms for their unique assassin attire, their pens and pencils for their personalized weapons, either custom-made or handed down like family heirlooms ready to be used by the next generation.
The flashing lights stopped when the sound of an iron gate sliding across the end of the hall caused heads to turn. Students rushed to try and get out before it could seal shut, but it was too late. Another closed at the other end, leaving them locked and secluded. Arms were pulling and tugging on the handles, but it did nothing to help set them free.
The lights suddenly dimmed. Other than the windows providing them light from outside, they were left in the dark.
A voice spoke through the speakers to deliver a riddle and instructions: "Estoy vivo sin aliento pero frío como la muerte. Nunca tengo sed, pero siempre bebo. ¿Qué soy yo? To pass this portion and survive the poison gas, you must make it to the Poison classroom and answer that riddle in five minutes."
A fraternal pair of twins who sported marionette-style makeup and attire touched the skin under their noses in sync to see it was covered in blood. The gas had already been deployed. They were breathing it in.
Another student pulled out a bobby pin from his pulled-back dark hair and went to unlock one of the gates. The others followed, trusting him to lead them out instead of finding a different way... except one.
I am alive without breath but cold as death. I am never thirsty but always drinking. What am I?
With her face painted in white, black, and red to resemble a sugar skull, it was clear her look was heavily inspired by the Day of the Dead. Her medium-length, wavy, dark hair was kept in place thanks to a flower crown of red roses and black leaves. A red and black traditional dress with alterations to her liking covered her body, and leather lace-up boots with an extra inch of heels housed her feet.
Using her telekinesis, she forced the other gate to unlock, slamming it open hard enough to dent the lockers it smacked against.
Bodies jumped at the loud sound.
"Qué perfecta, mi pequeña bruja." The one who attempted to unlock the gate with a bobby pin was the only one to say anything. How perfect, my little witch.
Only one person called her that. His name was Manny, short for Manuel. He was from Puerto Rico, and his father sent him here along with his younger fraternal twin siblings. He was the first to attend the academy, sending his children to do the same to join the family business of being in a gang. Not only were they located in Puerto Rico, but also in some parts of Mexico and Florida.
They met when she came in the middle of the year. He was the one to show her the ropes until she got the hang of them. They became friends, naturally, but it wasn't until in their mid-teens that they began developing feelings for each other. Their friendship blossomed into dating and officially becoming an item.
Now, here they were in Group C performing their final together.
She watched the others walk out, leaving her to free herself last.
They made their way down the wooden stairs to the first floor. Manny coughed in his hand to reveal splotches of blood. He cleared his throat and tried to swallow what he felt creeping up to his nasal passageway.
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Bruja
Fanfiction"𝘔𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢 𝙡𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙟𝙖, 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢 𝘢 𝘴𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 . . . . . . 𝘔𝘦 𝘷𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘻𝘢." They called her La Bruja. Translation: the Witch. She was trained in an academy meant for assassins in Mexic...