Guns, Daggers, and Bleeding Scars (On Hiatus)
- Reads 2,432
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- Parts 4
MatureOngoing18m
Last published Sun, Nov 20, 2016
Abducted at 15, the girls were hurtled away into a world of danger, mystery, and death. They were in a world that was completely different from the lives they'd just been stolen from. Agencies, spies, and secrets were what they had discovered and were out of the girls' leagues.
But they were in training.
Charlotte was the mastermind. She's the one everyone called "The Hacker". She cracks codes in her dreams and confuses systems with ease. She operates Mission Control and sends deadly orders for her vicious assassin to carry out.
And Stella? She was the badass assassin. She kills without warning, fast and swift. They know her as the nightmare in people's dreams. She believes nothing in mercy. She could almost be death herself.
Meeting new people (allies and enemies both) had fueled the girls' determination to survive in the unknown territory and develop abilities that make them admired and feared. They are a deadly duo and danger bows before them.
∞
I slammed my suitcase shut. I was so fucking done with this place.
First, an Alpha who doesn't care about the being of his agents but puts on a fake ass Barbie smile for the world to see.
Second, I was admitted as an agent into an agency with sluts, bitches, and whores - though I'm really talking about only one girl - with murderers and serial killers all around me.
Third, I was forced to hang out with hot guys which one just so happened to be my partner and the problem was - I actually enjoyed it. Insane, right?
∞
Just a note: This story was co-written by two people, one person wrote the POV from Charlotte, and one from Stella. Also, this story contains some homosexual relating parts. Enjoy!
Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=720l9elnpTs
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What did they mean? I knew who I was, didn't I? I was Rosalia Mallory, a girl left on the doorstep of our town's foster agency to find a new home. From there I went through three homes before at the age of 16 instead of having to live in the group home I secured enough money to, along with the money the foster carers were given for me, to buy an apartment building. Alongside a job bartending and waitressing I had enough money to attend college and am currently studying Religion and Mythology, Creative writing and Art. Just a normal teenage girl with a normal life. But at the same time, I'm not. Who am I? Seems like the most cliché question a teenager can ask right? Except when your missing months, if not years, of your life suddenly that seemingly simple question takes on a whole new meaning. After all, if you don't know your whole past how can you answer that for yourself?
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