The Specials: Zeke

The Specials: Zeke

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing8m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Feb 21, 2019
Excerpt from the book: "I know you, boy" the man growled, the gleam of the knife he held alerted Zeke of the danger he was about to face. "Your glowing eyes give you away, you're a Special. You don't belong here." Zeke stared the man down, he could hear Perse breathing heavily behind him; he could tell she was very, very afraid. "We want no trouble, sir." He said carefully, trying to avoid battling this man. "We're just passing through." "Oh I don't doubt it." The man replied. "But you are all freaks and don't deserve the powers you are given." He began moving toward Zeke, his gaze threatening. Suddenly, Zeke was grabbed from behind by a pair of muscular arms and they held him firmly in place. "I know this won't kill you, but I'll certainly enjoy it."
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He smiled. The devil himself couldn't have crafted a more wicked grin. "What do you say we play a game, little Reaper?" I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his intentions. "What kind of game?" His grin widened, showing the tips of his fangs. I watched the prince curiously as he strode over to his bag. With a swift motion, he withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, flinging them at my feet without so much as a second glance. I furrowed my eyebrows, casting him a look of uncertainty. That sinister grin stayed plastered upon his lips as he said, "Run." *** I, Skyla Ashforth, am what some might call a "sociopath." It was a title that fit. Why shouldn't I embrace it? I am a vampire slayer, a Reaper of bloodsuckers, and an exceptionally good one, if I do say so myself. Yes, being a sociopath has its perks; I could manipulate and deceive with the best of them. So, when captured by the notorious Red Prince, I embraced the challenge of manipulating my freedom. Pierce Darcee, was a sadistic vampire with a God complex. The fool actually believed he could break me. Little did he know, I was the kind of Reaper who would dance through a battlefield, whistling a merry tune as I twirled my braids. I relished the challenge of manipulating his oversized ego, planning to stab that rotting, blackened heart of his with a venom-laced dagger. I crafted a scheme so delightful, so intricate, that I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of victory. It was foolproof, or so my mind believed. But then... then there was that pull. That unexpected, unwelcome spark that ignited something within me. Feelings, of all things! Now, that was a complication. Disgusting, messy feelings that could very well lead to my destruction. Or his. It was a dangerous game we played, but then again, the most thrilling ones usually are. *Rated M for Murder, Mayhem, and some profanity. Sorry but no smutty interludes. You've stumbled into a blood bath, not a bodice ripper.*

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