Prologue

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Hey guys, so I just decided to pick up my laptop and type this story out. It's based on a dream I had a few nights ago and I thought to try it out to see whether it translates well into a story. I found a bond with the 'me' in the dream so I hope I can share it with you guys. I haven't come up with the name or title yet because I haven't came up with one (lol) but your inputs are always welcome. I know I haven't wrote in a while but I do hope you enjoy my latest work! 

Love always, Aric. 

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"It's coming!" I shouted down the hall anxiously.

A blonde man in his 30s, snapped his head towards me in response. He says nothing but nods. In his arm, a long range shotgun takes aim to the hallway adjacent to ours. His motions were fluid, muscle tensed as his eyes scanned his periphery. The tip of his shotgun followed.

He completed a sweep of the halls in a second. "No yet Caleb." he called out, a hint of Russian accent underlying his tone of voice. "Where is Masha?"

"I don't know." I answered, my foot tapping nervously on its own. "She should be here by now."

Taking a deep breath, my lungs instantly took the liberty of regurgitating the damp air that was tainted with dust and god-knows-what pollutants is lurking within this building. I held in the intense cough that was to come.

Klaus grunted and loosened his grip on his shotgun with a huff. He slowly started to pace, his combat boots making soft grinding noises as it forced the cracked cement to shift. He wasn't a burly man- not in the traditional sense- nor is he muscle ladened. No, he was 6'2 with the physique of someone whose body is shaped by the crude disposition that is his life. One tell tale sign being the scar that runs from his neck down his body, ending in the shadows of his T shirt's sleeve.

His face though, was weirdly the strict opposite- a literal textbook translation of a white Russian male. Hair short, blonde but unkempt, framing a face that could pass for any Russian picked off the side of the street. That said, however, he is extremely attractive in my books but I digress considering the situation we are in.

He was squatting now, fingers pushed lightly on the ground with his eyes closed. He was listening out for footsteps.

If an entity were to view this as some TV show, we would be the weirdest season mashup of 90210 and Red. A 25 year old Chinese clad in his checkered button ups with jeans, both of which are stained with dried up blood, paired with a Russian KGB agent in an abandoned research facility. Two of the most paradoxical human personalities put into a situation to fend for their lives with guns and knives against an unknown life threatening entity. I would win a Golden Globe.

"She's here." Klaus said under his breath, snapping me out of my rambling thoughts. Oh, and plus one more guest star from Wizards of Waverly Place.

Emerging from the hall to our left was Masha, her pace ever gracious like she was floating on air. She might as well be considering she's a magic wielding witch. For a lack of a better term to call her.

She's Indian by blood but born and raised outside the asian nation, with her FKA Twigs inspired tattoos and cropped dyed brown hair. She was slender, the embodiment of a millennial that did not give two fucks about the societal expectation of a woman's body. She has curves and she was obviously proud as told by the confidence in her stance.

Even if we are in the midst of being chased by devil reincarnate.

"What took you so long?" Klaus snapped.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Mar 28, 2017 ⏰

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