✥ The Rich Girl & Her Bodyguard ✥
Blaise Inocencio, the daughter to a well-known politician, inherits the fear of being killed when she receives a threat after the assassination of her father. The constant fear of being killed only intensifies when...
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Sweatglistenedon her figure by precipitating to the very first layer of her skin. The vivid image of white carnations gathered around almost to perfection playing on replay very alike to a cassette tape. The flowers arranged around a wooden coffin that held the very body of her father. Her mind was playing yet another unfair game of trickery in her sleep.
Her heart drummed inside her rib cage as if it was almost a prisoner ready to escape from its own habitat. Her body was numb as if it wasn't her father, but her laying dead inside that coffin. She just can't tell if it was a dream or a nightmare.
The excruciating hallucination came to an temporary end as the sound of gun shots woke up Blaise from the terrible invader of her sleep. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat which was a natural reaction of her overrated heartbeat.
Blaise was not able to comprehend to the sounds of the bullets defying the speed of gravity, cutting through the invisible air like a piece of paper. Was it part of her dream or was it reality? Her mind was disfigured to the point where she was not able to recognize the danger that was awaiting for her to come greet it with her blood.
The sounds finally processed into her disoriented mind as a call of danger. Blaise quickly out of natural instinct grabbed her gun from the bedside table. The weapon was already awaiting to take a life by painting its metal gear in red. But, was she ready to paint her own hands in the dark pigment?
She never was a killer, but instincts can make her easily just that. The need to live to see another day was what kept her from dropping the unused defending weapon from her shaking hands. Blaise knew she never wanted the same fate as her father who was mercilessly killed in his own office.
The rush of adrenaline made her head towards the direction of the stairs as Blaise had finally gathered up enough courage to escape the perimeter of her bedroom. Everything that was whisking downstairs was settled to dead silence. Was it over?
Tip toeing her way to the crime scene, Blaise had the mere thought of death cross her mind. It wasn't the safest to come to rescue of herself like a knight and shining armor, but she couldn't simply go back to the haunting nightmares only for them to turn into reality.
Her body grew numb at the scene that unfolded in front of her. The sweat that covered her figure was long forgotten as it almost met the coldness of the bodies laying dead in front of her. The puddle of blood leaking from the broken skin of the bodyguards where the bullets easily manipulated their access before channeling their fastest escape route.
The faces of the ones dead were unclear due to the lack of lighting on the scene, but Blaise knew that they were dead as no motion of fulfilling their duty till their last breathe came through. Before she could remorse the murdered victims that had sacrificed themselves for her safety, Blaise's vision painted in the color black. The gun in her hand slipped onto the floor beneath her along with her unconscious body.
