MarcoThey pull up at the entrance of an old cemetery, the car coming to a halt as I feel this strange nervousness. Stepping out, I'm met by the guard, whose eyes haven’t pardoned a minute away from from me."Over there, pal. The party's almost over," he sneers, thrusting the jar of my brother's ashes into my hands.My gaze sweeps over the small group ahead. Not one familiar face and I can't help but ask, "Where's my sister?""What, you think we take orders from you now?" the man behind me retorts, delivering a sharp kick to my healing leg. I grit my teeth against the pain, limping forward. I’ve to cage my anger and come up with a plan to take down all these bitches one by one.Among them stands the familiar figure of the pope from the chapel. Two other men in dark coats stands adjacent to him with shaded glasses. I know their presence there is anything but for a good purpose."What's the point of a burial if my only family isn't here?" I question, turning back to the guards who broug
SarahA sharp, urgent knock startles me from the soothing rhythm of rocking Carlos to sleep in my arms. It had taken more than an hour of tender care to pacify his incessant cries, and I couldn't bear the thought of him waking up again. I lay him in his crib and answer the door, desperate to silence the noise that threatens to disturb his nap time."Who is it?" I called out, my voice a little above a whisper."You have a package, ma'am," the voice says from the other side.I hesitate, my mind racing. I hadn't ordered anything, and I rarely spoke with the neighbors since arriving here in Omsk. A sense of unease settles over me as I cautiously open the door, revealing a delivery man with a pen and paper in hand."You need to sign here, ma'am," he says, his voice having no emotion."Who is it from?" I ask."Look, ma'am, I don't know. I'm just doing my job."I glance around, scanning the peaceful surroundings for any sign of danger. Satisfied, I sign the paper and carry the package in.Mo
SarahAs I make my way back home, my head feels like it is on a roller-coaster, struggling to maintain focus. Shadows dance and flicker behind me, but I dare not glance back. With hurried steps, I hurry down the sidewalk, my heart pounding in my chest. The apartment building looms just a few blocks away.Reaching my front door, I fumble for my keys, my hands trembling. With a quick glance around, I rush inside and slam the door shut behind me. I lean against it, panting heavily, my heart still racing with my eyes closed. I stumble to the bedroom, relief flooding over me as I find Carlos sleeping peacefully in his crib. What was I thinking ever letting him out of my sight for one moment? Tears well up in my eyes, a mixture of fear and exhaustion washing over me. It must have been my imagination running wild back on the streets.I collapse to the floor, the headache pounding relentlessly in my temples. Searching the table for pain relief, I swallow two pills dry, hoping they would off
MarcoTwo weaknesses haunt me relentlessly. Sarah is one. I've forced myself to accept her death, burying the pain deep every night. But, now, hearing she’s alive, and seeing it for myself, there’s no going back, denial is no longer an option. Whatever these enigmatic people seek, I'll provide it.I observe as the mysterious woman is ushered into a sleek car, the convoy fading into the night. Driven by the thirst for answers, I hurry out of the bar. A motorcycle sits idly at the corner, its keys still in place. I watch the owner for a while, but as more distance adds between me and these enigmas, I seize the opportunity, leaping onto the bike and tear off into the darkness."Hey! That's my bike!" the owner shouts, but his protests are drowned out by the roar of the engine. I race after the convoy without looking back, pushing through the crowded streets, determined to uncover the truth. If this woman needs my aid, then I must know who she is. If ever her words are true.Sarah. My Sar
SarahI reach for the door for a means of escape. “It's no use Maria," he says with a smirk as he zooms off.“i'm not too familiar with this environment.” His eyes scans the road as one having troubles navigating towards our destination. He glances at the rearview mirror and our gaze meet,“Maria... How could you survive all these years without me?” He must be enjoying the moment, seeking for ways to taunt me. “We're done Shawn and you know that. ”He takes a sharp turn. Surprisingly heading towards my apartment. It dawns on me. How long he's been monitoring us is what I don't know. “Don't be like that Maria. I never for once let you out of my sight. How's my son?"His words hit my ears as he mentions about Carlos. I feel dumb for a moment.“What son?” I stutter, searching around for any weapon to set myself lose from the beast driving the taxi.“it's useless. Stop the pretense and give us a chance Maria. I'm the only one who can protect you.”“i don't need your protection, Shawn
Maria's POVHer phone drops off from her hand as she stumbles on the large rusty iron gate, tripping on her ripped wedding dress. She squats to pick it up, pulling her way into the old mansion covered in darkness.Something is out there. Some group of people have been trailing her. She doesn't feel safe. She never felt safe. The mysterious death of her father earlier in the day only threatens the last hope of survival.There is nowhere else to run to.Her phone beeps. She scans the area around her before receiving the call, running into the building and slamming the door shut. Who would have thought that a place she most detest could be her only safe haven?The memories the building holds feels like it's nothing, compared to what's coming. “I'm on my way, Maria. Do not leave the mansion. I'll be there to protect you,” the thick voice assures at the other end of the phone.“No…No…you can't come anywhere close. They'll kill you too,” she sobs, falling on her knees. She's desperately
Maria's POVThe air is hot. It feels like she's in a steam bath. The smell of her sweat is so concentrated. But there's another lingering scent. One she's familiar with. A secluded room in her father's house she stumbled on some times back has the same horrific smell. A day that revealed her father's true identity.She manages to open her eyes. Just then, she realizes her plight.With a throbbing head, she attempts to free herself from the chains clasped around her wrist, fixed above her head."Let me go!" She screams, terror engulfing her.A man stands up from a chair in front of a fireplace, approaching her, wearing a smirk.“I made that mistake once, princess,” he replies with a poisonous voice.He takes off his hat, puffing smoke from his pipe to her face.“Perfect timing. You've been asleep for way too long. The priest is just by the door,” he adds, raising her face close to his.For the first time, she sees his form clearly. The chiseled jawline, a dangerous stare and a smile
Marco's POVThe fitting black suits. The well-knot tie and a brief case. The signature outfit of the Snakes gang. It's difficult to tell the leader just by face evaluation. Marco walks into the pristine mansion with his newly-acquired brief case. He didn't bother to check it's content.There's a meeting. An urgent meeting. His father has never summoned him to any of his meetings.Being his first time, he should be nervous, but he's not.“Hurry, brother. The rest are around,” Andrey says, running up the flight of stairs ahead of him.“Ahh…there they are,” an old man interjects as Marco opens the double door.A large feast unfolds before him. Today isn't his birthday. He has no idea what the party is about.Yet, he seems to be at the center of it all.The old man gives him a warm hug and offers a seat beside him, “Welcome son,” he says.Marco manages a smile. He isn't so comfortable with his father's kind. The pistols in their pockets only makes it more uncomfortable.Such meetings