An eminent girl who was known for her profound capability to exterminate any evil existence not knowing the fated ones she has eagerly searched for centuries are the feracious vampire kings that enjoy basking themselves in darkness. Nevertheless, be...
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2003
The heat of the desert evening clung to the city like a second skin, even as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a tapestry of bruised oranges and purples in its wake. Las Vegas Boulevard, the Strip, pulsed with electric life, a world unto itself.
The neon glow of casino signs blurred the line between night and day. Arched lights blinked in perfect rhythm, advertising jackpots and free drinks while towering digital billboards displayed an endless parade of entertainers, showgirls and flashing dice. The faint hum of electricity mingled with the distant thump of bass from nightclub speakers, creating an unending symphony of indulgence.
Near the heart of the gaming floor, where roulette wheels spun in perpetual motion, Mavis leaned forward on the edge of her stool, her energy palpable. Her blonde curls bounced as she moved, framing a face lit with exhilaration. Laughter bubbled over the table, infectious and bright as she placed chips in scattered patterns across the numbers.
"Let's do it all!" she exclaimed, sliding a small mountain of chips onto a mix of reds, evens and corners. Her excitement radiated like heat from the neon lights, drawing the attention of nearby onlookers.
Behind her, Atlas stood with arms crossed, his broad shoulders slightly slumped and an exasperated expression etched onto his face. His tie was loosened, and the faint shadow of stubble marked the wear of the night.
"This isn't a strategy, Mavis. This is chaos" he muttered, watching her with a mix of disbelief and resignation.
She turned to glance at him, her brown eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and tequila-fueled determination. "That's the point! Chaos is how you win big" she spun back to face the table, placing her last chip dramatically on number 23. "This one's for you, Mr. Buzzkill"
The croupier spun the wheel with a practiced flick, the ball clattering against the rim as it began its unpredictable dance. The table seemed to hold its breath, drawn into her reckless enthusiasm.
"Come on, come on!" she chanted, leaning closer, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.
Behind her, Atlas sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "You're going to regret this when you—"
The ball bounced, hesitated, and finally came to a rest.
"Black, 10"
A chorus of groans erupted from the table, Mavis's own laughter dissolving into a theatrical wail. She threw her arms in the air, spinning on her stool to face him. "You jinxed it! You're the problem here"
