He caressed my hair gently, his fingertips touching large chunks of silky strands, ❝I wanted to give you a chance to win and escape me. I couldn't wait anymore. I need you now.❞ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Los Angeles; known as the City of Angels. It is a city of opportunity where the stars illuminate, a city close to breathtakingly beautiful beaches and where swaying palm trees decorate the modern city. However, beneath it's façade, lays the city of the wild and corrupt. The City of Angels is a misnomer because its citizens' souls are all conquered under the prince of the Nether Realm; Daemon. All except for one. Celeste is a 17 year old girl hoping to ease her parents' financial burdens. She is the beacon of light and purity that draws Daemon to her. He reveled in her innocence because he would have another soul meant for heaven damned in his realm. Daemon proposes a deadly game to attain her soul with freedom to live as the prize. The rules of the game are now set and the players have been decided. However, as the game continues, a deadly love triangle occurs, and a potential war between heaven and hell looms. The game maker and his players might not be able to leave this game unscarred. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* #49 in Paranormal on 12/20/16 Copyright © 2015. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

"I love how innocent you act, but I know you're not." **************************** My dad had given me a simple journal that I thought I'd never use. When I found out he died in a car crash, that next week, I decided to start writing all my feelings in it because I'm not really good at expressing them verbally. My journal was full of decent thoughts... Well some were decent, Until I met Dillon Taylor. He was the cocky, annoying, loud mouthed boy next door that wouldn't turn his music down if the queen of England walked in his room. So one night, I finished my diary entry and fell asleep. I left the window open because it was hot. Bad idea. I heard some fiddling in my room so I turned on my lamp. Only to see that annoying boy from next door's body was halfway out my room window-- with my diary in his hand.