Story cover for Grievance by KDemise
Grievance
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    LECTURAS 48
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    Votos 2
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    Partes 1
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    Hora 11m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 48
  • WpVote
    Votos 2
  • WpPart
    Partes 1
  • WpHistory
    Hora 11m
Continúa, Has publicado may 17, 2019
Contenido adulto
Someone took underground crime a little too seriously.

The city of Ake is known for it's organized crime and dirty dealings. Turf wars happen every other day of the week and citizens don't bat an eye to men in bloody clothing, it's not uncommon for kids to take up work passing back messages from crime boss to crime boss, and the cops have too much on their plate to handle. (Or they're just beyond caring at this point.)

And thus Atrocity was born.

An organization made and bent to clean up the messes the citizens can't and the cops refuse to. From then Grieves are sent to deal with the dirty work, a set of partners made and trained to deal out their own form of justice by any means.

One such pair is more well known than the rest: Kennel

With skills that outmatch even the best the city legally has to offer, they're both the top defense against the major crime lords in the city.

But along with the top rank targets are painted on their backs by the lords and for their work the bosses are continuously trying to take them out.

With that being a lot already on their plate a new face in their workplace proves to be more of an issue than the pair previously thought.
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"Have I...?" He whispered again, fragile in a way that made my stomach twist, made my pulse spike in my throat. "Ever fucking hit you?!" His voice rose, furious and raw, shaking the walls around us-and vibrating through me, like it could set me on fire from the inside out. I averted my eyes, shaking my head. No. "Then why do you always cover away in fear when I get too close? Why do you expect me to hurt you when I've never laid my hands on you?" His teeth were clenched, jaw tight, yet there was something more in his voice than anger-something human, something unbearably close, like it was threading into my blood, my skin, my pulse. He was right. And I knew it. I wasn't afraid of him. Not really. Hell, I deserved punishment-for the blood on my hands, for the lives I'd shattered, for the guilt that clung to me like a second skin. Dany. The other half of me haunted me, her little face, her little voice, the promise of vengeance twisting through my veins. My vendetta came first. It had to. Every step, every decision, every second-I couldn't let him know who I truly was. Not yet. If he did I would never be free. And sooner or later, I had to go.