The Wattpad Filipino Block Party 2019

Greenwriter's Story Teaser

                                        .                            GRACE CHRONICLES: THE SLEEPERS

The presence of two refined gentlemen dressed in suit and tie, walking through one of the most luxurious hotels in Illinois was no extraordinary sight. Their meeting, however, was far from ordinary.

No one batted an eye when they both positioned opposite each other inside the hotel's restaurant, surrounded by elaborate interior of polished hard wood. Above was an extravagant chandelier that lit the room soft yellow, matching the mood of the soft piano music playing in the background.

Wine was poured but not touched. No one came forward to take their order.

"Have you made your decision?" asked the first man, utterly comfortable to be there.

His companion, on the other hand, was in an unfamiliar environment. He showed it by sweeping his suspicious blue eyes over each individual in the room, most bent over their phones or tablets. The soft business chatters nearly overpowered the piano. He zoned in on every conversation and gulped. Nothing suspicious, he thought, as he veered his eyes back to the dark-haired man very familiar to him.

He knew he should not be here, more so in the company of a Stronghold.

He answered the man's question with a nod, his silver hair almost yellow from the chandelier.

"Good," Ivor Stronghold said, taking out his phone from his breast pocket. Screen up, he laid it on the table and pushed it toward the other man. The screen was entirely turned off. "If you would so please drop a tiny grace."

The man hesitated. He zoned in on every person in the room again, moistening his lips. The woman behind him was talking about her real estate offers; the man to his right was pulling out his stocks from the market—not a good idea; the waiter was warning another not to go near Mr. Stronghold's table, the wine was enough. In short, everything seemed safe.

Ivor Stronghold's amber eyes glinted with impatience. "We do not have the time for second thoughts, nanny."

The man scowled at Ivor across the table. "Should I remind you, fora," he gritted out, speaking for the first time with disgust in his voice, "that I am directly under—"

"The archangels, yes," said Ivor with a sneer. "Don't worry. None of them are tuning in on us as we speak." He allowed a short silence before he continued, "The envoys of the third sphere are not aware that you are in the presence of a Stronghold. If they did, you would not be here." He leaned away from the table and crossed his leg over the other. "And I am pretty sure they will not mind losing one guardian angel. Am I not right, nanny? How many are there of your kind again?" He looked up, one eye squinting to mockingly think of an answer. "Thousands? Ah, no, probably millions." His hand pushed the phone further toward the Guardian. "You are replaceable, my dear friend." And in a graceful swift motion, his hand revealed a cylinder glass container the size of a bullet. "But this will give you an advantage."

The Guardian's blue eyes glinted at the sight of the cylinder. Angels called them shells, a rare but powerful weapon. It was not the cylinder he needed. It was what it could contain. His jaw tightened and his hand paled even more as he closed it into a fist.

"A drop of grace will seal our agreement. You will never have to see me again after tonight."

He was committing a grave offense simply by being here, but the Guardian had his own reasons why. Many of his kind had done the same thing in the past and most of them were still in the sphere.