They're the kings of the rival school, East Bridge.
All powerful. All untouchable. All hot.
And unfortunately, as the town policy dictates, I'm their number one enemy, their biggest threat and the catalyst for their destruction, rendering me their t...
The river, as dark as the night sky above, wove through the city like a snake, shiny like the scales that reflected off a thousand different reflections of all the peering faces.
The moon glinted over this mass of water, so deep that despite the illuminated surface, the bottom held nothing but darkness, danger and death, compelling only the insane and the dead.
The river saw everything as it passed from the man-made structures created selfishly to the little speck of nature that graced the land to the people that littered this place, all different yet all the same.
The colour of their skin ranged as did the colour of their hair and their eyes, along with the differences in height and their figures that the silver glow enhanced. From the outside, the little and bigger dissimilarities were apparent, distinguishing and separating them.
But there was one thing they all shared, separating them more until lines were drawn and could not be crossed again.
Their hatred.
Putrid and hot, the burning loathing stemmed from deep inside of them, spreading like wildfire until it was the only thing they could focus on. It consumed them entirely and wholly, incentivising them to engage in acts that slowly but surely killed the very essence of humanity.
And those people controlled by this emotion inside of them were left to their miserable downfall. Pushed by an unentitled force into the dark depths of the running river, submerged entirely, leaving them to disappear instantaneously, never to be seen again.
And others who peered into the Invisible Brook, unaware of the souls lost in it, thought they could see their reflection so clearly, thought they knew exactly who they were.
But they were foolish.
They could never see the invisible motifs that lay inside of them, poisonous and deadly, a written signature that confirmed their early, cruel and hard death.
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