Scarlett & Ethan

Scarlett & Ethan

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, mar 9, 2025
I've changed my identity three times. can never be to sure right. right now Im Riley Blake. a school teacher with short dark hair, with big innocent eyes. having managed to escape, I've lived a relevantly normal life for the past 6 years. by no means have I forgotten my revenge or stopped practicing or keeping taps. as I said relevantly normal life. Orions possible death seems far to fetched for me. but at the same time, where else could that grumpy old man be right now. he would have never just left me like that. there was no dead body to find. just the footages they used to lure me in. Orion had been gone for the longest time, and I had started to get paranoid, I was expecting the worst, and I acted according to my feeling. And I think someone is on to me. I get this weird feeling that someone is watching me. I turn and enter a clothing store. hide behind some clothes and watch the door from a mirror. there he is. someone entered behind me. he must be suspecting me of something. without being noticed by him I leave the store. and just as I turn a corner I open my phone to delete all the footages available. no proof of me ever being there. ill have to create some proof of being somewhere else. because it isn't just the enemy thats after me, but also the agents. but really I only have myself to blame. when I thought Orion had died I created chaos. so much fucking chaos. I like to call it the grieving faze. when I had finally calmed down after the attempt on my life and Orions so called death. I broke down and watched the last footage available of Orion just to realize, the guy in the video didn't have the neckless. it was not Orion. but Orion is still no where to be found, something happened to him. it must have, he would never just leave me.
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WORK IN PROGRESS‼️ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── There was no noise; I was at peace, and ironically, the stone-cold pavement never seemed warmer as my blood oozed out of me and around me like a painted canvas. I was slowly losing consciousness, but my mind never seemed happier now that I was dying. The white walls with big bright lights did not resemble heaven; in fact, it was quite the opposite. I thought I had died. When I came to, I found myself in this strange place, disoriented and confused. I looked around and found another five pairs of eyes looking at me with the same emotion swirling in their gaze. Now, 15 years later, I train with these girls. Our makers take care of us, feed us, and make sure we are clean, healthy, and fit. Some of us never had that; that's probably why it took so long for us to realize we were being used. The dirty work they made us do, none of us questioned it. How could we when we were taken off the streets? For a chance at normalcy, we settled for anything, even if that meant blurring the lines of right and wrong. After a mission gone haywire, we started noticing, and now we strike back to take our voices and reclaim the power that was used on us as a way to control us. After all, they are the ones who trained us; we are just returning our long-overdue favour. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Rankings : Featured in Mystery-thriller #5 in Mystery-thriller on 7/12/24

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