THIS. IS. WAR. (specops/anon X reader)

9- The Plan

Hey everyone!

Just so everyone knows- I do plan on updating more often now since I am stuck in bed sick... haha

Thank you for your feedback last chapter, but remember, please be respectful when you comment, I really do try to make these stories likeable by all, and I know some of you might not enjoy some chapters as much, but stick with me!

I will be deleting all hateful/rude comments.

One more thing- if you haven't figured it out, Jaeden=Tank, and Malik=Riot :P The others will be in the story soon!

Thank you, and have fun reading!!

(Don't be afraid to comment/make suggestions, just dont be mean :P)

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The hot pavement seared my hands as I fell to the ground on my knees. Why? I asked myself. These hangings can't be a coincidence, I decided, getting angrier and angrier. How could someone take someone elses life? Someone as young as he was? How could someone HANG another human being? How can you do such a.. savage act? We all bleed red, why is this happening? Why are we killing one another?

My mind raced with questions that I didn't exactly know the answer to. I wanted to sob, to mourn for these men with tears, but I couldn't. I was angry. I needed to be out there, protesting with others, mourning with them.

I stood up, wiping the tears that slipped out of my eyes. Malik and Jaeden were looking at me, their body language showing they were mourning too. They knew I wanted to be out there, with them. But they also wanted to protect me, they don't want to see me hurt again. But they know they can't stop me, because my voice will be heard.

I will speak for those who have lost their voices, I told myself as I strutted towards the glass doors that lead into the sanctuary.

I was ready for whatever awaited me.

In front of me was what looked like a waiting room. There were white chairs lined up all together in rows on the left and right sides of the room. In the middle stood a round desk with a woman standing in the center. She was a hajiabi, wearing a simple light peachy orange hajiab with a flowing black longsleeved shirt and equally flowy black joggers. Only her wolf-like grey eyes were visable.

She was talking with another hajiabi, who was wearing a sunflower colored hajiab with a beautiful white silk blouse and matching skirt with it. Her entire face was covered as well, her piercing grey eyes being the only thing visable.

The two women were chatting and laughing together, and I realized they must be related- maybe even twins- they have the same eyes, and almost the same laugh. But the laughter became silent as the woman at the desk saw me with my tearstained eyes. She motioned me to come forward.

My grey slip-on flats click-clacked on the floor as I walked to her. As I got closer, I confirmed that these two women had to be twins. They were the same height, looked to be about the same weight, and had identical freakishly pure grey eyes.

The woman at the desk outstretched her hand, wanting something from me. I tilted my head, confused. She pointed to my hand, and then her hand. I laid my hand on her palm, back side facing up. She reached below the desk, where I couldn't see, and pulled out what looked like a stamp.

She then turned my hand upsidedown on her hand, so that my palm was facing up. She grabbed ahold of my thumb, and stamped me. A small black outline of the letters N and W were imprinted into my thumb. After the woman did this, she spoke. Her voice was elegant, and had a small accent of someplace that I couldn't quite put a finger on.