NUMBER THREE.

NUMBER THREE.

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Oct 17, 2024
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. An intense bubbling pressure filled my mind and a burning pain filled my body like lava. Was I moving? Fighting? I couldn't even tell. The pain is unbearable, and I have never felt so detached from my mind ever before. Is this death? All at once the fiery burning pain that filled my veins turned to ice, and a new pain formed, sending my body into a shock. I could feel my teeth chattering like a woodpecker on wood, and hear it slightly also; Why can I shiver but not scream? My thoughts didn't carry far, as I felt my body come slightly back into my control, the pain still under my skin and ears ringing. I started thrashing and yelling due to my new found control of my body. My voice sounded foreign to my ears, and came out more a gargle than a yell, something was in my mouth. I felt hands against my arms, restraining me and voices speaking quickly and hushed. A sharp pain in my neck brought me darkness and the pain finally stopped. Number Three is thrown into a confusing trial of tests regarding her new found abilities and developments, although she is left with no memory of what was before. All she knows is that her existence is for Project Interitus, or that's at least what the doctors who run the facility say. Luckily for her she isn't alone in these new found discoveries, three colleagues join her, One, Four, and Seven. All of them are wary and unsure of the facility in which they stay, nor trusting of the people who run the trials, as they continue to dismiss and silence any questions or thoughts they have regarding how they came to be or what they're there for. Memories resurface, and curiosity grows stronger as this group of test subjects become closer and more intuitive, making it more of a challenge for them to be controlled without rebellion. What is the purpose of her abilities? Will Three ever regain her memories of the past or did she never have one to begin with? Lets just hope she survives.
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#68
teens
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Before I knew it my shirt was torn away from my torso and tossed on the floor, Charlie's doing the same. Our kiss intensified and I felt him groan against my lips. I swear to god, this boy is making out with me like his life depends on it! And that's when reality punched me in the gut... the words 'this boy' kept running through my head over and over again until it got through the thick fog of vodlka and whatever else was in those stupid drinks. I, Ace Loughty, was kissing a guy. A fucking guy. A fucking straight guy named Charlie Simmons who of course had to be one of the most popular dickheads in Meadow Ridge High. I am so unbelievably fucked. ----- 17 year old Ace Loughty was never one longing to be in the spotlight. In fact, he craved the exact opposite: being left alone. When Ace was 13, the tragic death of his younger sister Eleanor caused him to rapidly gain popularity and pitiful looks. He hated the attention. All of a sudden everyone wanted to be friends with the dead girls brother, they'd promise Ace he would never be alone that they would always be there for him, which he of course knew was untrue, they're all just hungry for attention. Sometime later the school moved onto other drama and gossip, things started to die down and people finally left Ace alone. He moved on with his life, convincing himself he was over Eleanor's death and as quick as the whole thing started, he returned to being lonely, weird, quiet nobody Ace. Just how he liked it. That is until 4 years later when he found himself sprawled out on a bed. With Charlie Simmons hovering over him. Charlie Simmons who was kissing Ace like he would die if he ever dared to stop. Which was all too true. Without kissing Ace, Charlie was as good as dead. *WARNING*: This story will contain themes of severe depression, suicide, abuse and somewhat graphic depiction of self harm. If any of these things may trigger you please rethink reading this story!! Started: January 21st 2020

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