Val
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Dec 18, 2018
Valencia Martzi Luca, 17 years old, perfect daughter. Her life is great, she always has food, a roof over her head, and is almost never bored. She's like most kids, is well behaved around adults, reckless with her friends. There is something different about her though. ~~~~~~~~~~ "Let's go in here!" Val said, beckoning the boy into a dark room. When they entered, Simon reached for his phone to use as a flash light when he was shoved against the wall, and Valencia pushed herself against him. His arms went around her waist, pulling her closer. "Val, what are you doing?" Simon breathed, rubbing her back with his hands. She didnt reply, just reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. Her hands reached up to his face, and pulled his mouth open gently. She shoved the vial in his mouth, and watched as he fell to the floor. "Goodbye, Simon. Hello, Victor."
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In a little Italian town lives Valentina, a young girl that lives a normal life with her family. Her life is turned upside down the day her school is attacked by a group of unknown individuals with supernatural abilities. She winds up dragged in a story and scheme much larger than her that will decide of the fate of humanity. The blaring of the facility's sirens covered the sound of the guard's body falling on the white floor. His limbs were unresponsive, lying in a pool of blood that soaked his hefty military gear. He wished he didn't have it on him when hell broke loose. He might have been able to run faster and escape, but it was too late. It had all happened in a matter of seconds. Before he could react, his colleagues had already turned on each other, killing mercilessly. He hoped to close his eyes and wake up by his wife's side as she prepared dinner for their two daughters. There, he would be at peace. He wouldn't have to experience his comrades' pain and the same sorry fate that awaited him. His heart raced as the unnatural sound of fracturing bones echoed through the narrow corridors he once thought he was safe in. It would soon be his turn. The door he had desperately tried to reach during his escape opened. A boy who appeared to be in his early teens walked through. He had soft facial features and short black hair that looked like it had been cut in a rush. It was not so much because of the boy's blood-drenched clothes that he looked like the one responsible for the gruesome incident, but rather because of that sinister look in his hazel eyes.

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