When It Starts

When It Starts

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 31, 2016
Darkness envelopes me. My breathing is short and harsh. I feel my heart thumping in my chest. My arms are wrapped around my knees. I feel moisture fall on my cheeks. A soft cloth brushes against my shoulders. Leather punctures my spine. I peer through a crack. I hear screams. The sound of glass shattering. Soft whimpers escape, giving me away. I hear footsteps pound the floor, walking towards me. I try to slow down breaths but the thunderous waves clash with the rhythm of my heartbeat. Producing a colossal sound of panic and grief. Time seems to slow as another tear escape my eyes. Objects play shadows across my mind. I hear a thump and my heart stops unintelligible screams pierce the house like a knife. One bang. Than another. Earthquakes drop with every shot. My dog barks and then it screeches. A shot silences my dog and I know she's gone. I see nothing but the lights cutting the darkness. I shift my weight and the floor creaks. I feel my lips quiver and my eyes burn.
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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 -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- 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.

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