Thea was a ghost. No one noticed her - not even when people continuously knocked her over- but that was how she preferred it. Though Thea came from a very well known and even wealthier family, she always seemed to blend in. Just how she liked it.
Jax, on the other hand, had many friends. Some would consider him popular, others wouldn't. He was a very confident guy, who didn't mind the spotlight, but wouldn't demand it either, thinking that he was a modest guy.
Jax and Thea were both two complete strangers, with not even a few words passed between the two in the four years they had been in high school together. The only possible thing they had in common was their lessons. They were both in the highest set, meaning they were a few of the smartest in their year. So, when faced with the difficult task assigned by their English teacher, they are forced to talk, get to know each other, and find a way to tolerate each other's flaws- Thea's social anxiety and Jax's endless antics.
And, yet, though Thea would deny it, the only way she would be able to tolerate him through the painful months to come, was through his looks. Thea often felt a little physical attraction towards Jax, but of course, never pursued it.
"It's just a physical attraction," Thea moaned to her friend. "And only that. Nothing more; nothing less."
So, when her attraction begins to progress and develop in ways Thea couldn't understand, she did all she could to stop it. Jax was trouble, an unholy force, one might say.
Maybe a kind that Thea couldn't stop; couldn't possibly deal with.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do.
They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment.
But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am.
Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing.
That's why they call me:
Death
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Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills.
She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run.
Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least.
He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S.
Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.