Chapter One

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NOTE: If you happen to know me and stumbled across this, please do not read. You will either die from cringing, crying (not in a good way), or face palming. You have been warned.

If you're just a random reader coming across this story...please leave. I beg you. Please leave. This book sucks ass and you will be tortured. This book was written back when I was inexperienced af.

If you still want to read this...*Prepares funeral* I will be ready. But please don't write hate comments 'cause, ugh, I'm running out of non cliche insults to give.

Go ahead and die reading this shit.

👑 👑 👑

Irina Isis Ivy

Isabelle Ivy delivered a right hook to the soldier's face, hitting him across the cheek. Then she grabbed him by the sides of his head and brought his face crashing down onto her knee. The soldier screamed out in pain and then blacked out. Whirling around, Mom went down into a crouch, swinging her foot under two soldiers, causing them to fall.

While she was doing that, Ian Ivy slammed a fist into a soldier's stomach and then kneed him in the guts. Grabbing another two soldiers' heads, he slammed their heads together then released them. They crumpled by his feet. Dad stole their swords and threw one to my mom. The two didn't have to open their mouths to communicate. They were connected by an invisible string. Mom knew that Dad was going to throw her the sword, even without looking. She caught the sword and swung it around in a semicircle, clearing her personal space of the soldiers. Dad slammed the blade down into a soldier's heart.

The two were separated by a mass of soldiers but they continued to work towards each other. Swinging both their swords and limbs, they finally cleared the way to one another. They stood back to back, their swords held in front of them. They looked at each other and smiled. Then smirking, they launched forward a few feet to give each other some space to fight. They were both swarmed with soldiers once they were thinly separated. This time, they didn't fight calculatedly, they didn't use strategies, they didn't use their heads. Instead, they fought like wild animals, trying to free themselves of the soldiers.

A loud bang sounded in the large room. Everyone stopped in their fighting and grew quiet. The room seemed fuzzy, wavering, as the sound vibrated. It vibrated in the walls, the ceiling, the floor, in my bones. I could feel it.

Slowly, the ringing sound ceased into a muted whisper. Dad's mouth was agape, gasping. The shock held the pain at bay. He clutched his chest with one hand, his other hand hanging by his side, his fingers slowly slipping its hold on the sword. The sword seem to fall in slow motion, and then it clanged on the floor, bouncing a little. That one little sound sounded like a metal explosion. Dad drew his hand back from his chest, his hand stained red with his own blood. Slowly, torturing, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his limbs grew limp, his knees gave out. He fell onto his knees, then he fell on his side. His mouth was still open, trying to draw in a breath that he couldn't take in anymore.

Mom lurched forward, a hand outstretched, her mouth forming a silent "No", or maybe she screamed it, I do not know. I couldn't hear any words. I only heard buzzing. It was in my ears, in my brain. I stood there silently, waiting... The room shifted and all of a sudden, all the soldiers - who had been in a daze - broke out of their trance and surrounded my parents. My mom was screaming at my dad. I still couldn't hear a thing, so instead, I read her lips; "No! Don't leave me! Come back!..." She was still in shock, that much I could tell. I still said nothing. Did nothing. I couldn't do anything. What could I do anyways? Crying, screaming... There was no point. Nothing would change the scene in front of me. So I stood there patiently, not moving, not speaking, waiting for the end.

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