To Kill the Antichrist

To Kill the Antichrist

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing33m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, May 30, 2020
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Fiction
Action and Thriller
"This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a wimper." TS Elliot was far from correct. Esmena Tate, a young woman in her early twenties is one of the many left on the earth who gets to experience the end of the world. Being safe in the united states, she did not have much to worry about, until God spoke to her, telling her to kill the antichrist. Feeling delusional, Esme ignores the voice for as long as she can, until the United States isn't safe anymore, and she must somehow travel to Europe to find the antichrist, and kill him. Dominik Vitellius was a born leader. Born in Rome, he made sure to rise in power, especially after he had a visit with Satan himself. Everything goes according to plan, until he finds out about a woman who wants him dead. She's not a sniper, nor an assassin. She's not trained in the least bit to even be able to kill him. And yet, he wants to meet her face to face, however, somehow she manages to get away every single time.
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Anneliese

Anneliese tried her hardest to be outgoing, her empathetic heart guiding her through every encounter. She is a young woman who has struggled finding a safe place to express herself. Often looking for new ways to meet friends, she wouldn't pass the opportunity to chat someone up. Even a stranger at the diner she works at to pass time and support herself. A dedicated man takes to the nativity of Anneliese. He is direct and prefers to keep to himself, but if he has to smooth talk a young woman to get to his end goal, he will. ~ ❀ ~ I can't help but stare at her. Her face, lips, and smile, and her nose. Even her long, curled lashes. "Let's do a butterfly kiss!" She exclaims, pulling my face close suddenly. Kiss? My heart hammers in my chest, my breath hitching. Her small hands hold my face close to hers. It's not very forceful, I could pull away if I wanted to, but I let her have control. Her hands are warm and soft against my jaw. Getting closer, her eyes lashes flutter and I find myself holding my breath. She brushes her lashes to mine, her breath fanning against my lips. Subconsciously, I lean forward, wanting my lips to be on hers. June flutter her lashes, grazing her lashes to mine. Out of nowhere she bursts out in a fit of laughter. I flinch back. Butterfly kiss. That was not a fucking kiss. ~ ❀ ~ #1 cliche 2025 & 2026 #1 sweatheart 2025 #1 opposites 2026 *Warning* Mature themes will be covered (language, actions, etc).

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