Chapter 1: Sarielle Devon

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Double Life - Chapter One: Sarielle Devon

Do you ever get sick of putting up masks? Faking smiles, laughter and even your personality. Hiding your true self behind a facade, fearing rejection. Putting up walls around your heart so that you won't get hurt, won't get shattered into pieces. Barriers barricading your heart from reality, hiding behind the walls so that you won't have to have your heart broken and not get too attached. So that the threads of your heart won't get tugged and you won't find yourself too involved. Cutting off emotional attachments, because you don't want to be used. You don't want to be manipulated.

And when the mask becomes your alter-ego, it has expectations. People have expectations from how you act as your 'other' you, your conduct and manners and so on forth. It's exhausting, taxing and bittersweet. Because you know that it's your own fault, that you keep a distance from everyone and everything. Because you don't want them to find out about your secret, and fear being rejected if you show your true self.

Well, that's me. Sarielle Devon, female (obviously), high-school student (senior) and...secret agent.

You're probably wondering if I'm high which I'm most definitely not, and probably thinking that it's all my imagination. Or possibly, that I am kidding.

I am sorry to say, I am certainly not. And am most certainly a certified, honest-to-God special task force agent. So there.

Being a teenage spy isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Or how you see in movies. It's much harder than it looks, and certainly much darker in reality. It isn't all 'clients-get-kidnapped-plans-are-launched-and-successes' and happy-ever-afters. People die and lose their lives in the process, even trained spies and agents. We have to live with the knowledge of death looming over us with each and every mission. The promise of death's embrace being upon us if we make the slightest mistake or provocation, whether it be just a loose knife or a stumbling of feet as we fight and battle, all for the sake of the mission and objectives.

Pleasant, eh?

--

January 10 | 2030 Hours

A few miles away from Brooklyn...

"Wolf, come in," the voice crackled over the speakers.

I carefully poked my head out, sweeping my gaze across the surroundings.

All clear. 

Right.

Finding it safe to speak, I reported back quietly, "All clear."

Ghosting across the room, I looked around for the entrance. A lone door stood a few feet away, but I immediately dismissed that option. It wouldn't surprise me if it was zealously guarded inside.

And then, I found it.

A manhole.

My lips curled into a smirk, the barest hint of it highlighted by dim lights.

--

Two hours later...

"Good work, Wolf," complimented Fox, one of my teammates as I entered the debriefing room. Black hair, blue eyes and an easygoing nature made him one of the very few who I could call a friend. An up and coming star in interrogation, surprisingly enough. Though that didn't mean he wasn't proficient in combat.

"Yeah, nicely done." Across the room, Phoenix gave me an approving nod and a smile. Her red tresses were pulled up in a high ponytail and her hazel gaze was warm. She was one of the rare all-rounders, being equally capable in both field and off-field assignments.

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