Cursed Springtrap Mga Nobela at Kwento

he answered and began to handcuff her hands. She tried to fight him and struggled, but with his strength, he was able to lock the handcuffs in her hands. "You're terrible, you bastard son of a b*tch!" She cried. It did not make him move and instead, just started his car again. "You are someone who is mentally retarded, and maybe it runs from your blood! Whatever your entire family shows, you do and practice them, too! Now, I guess I have figured out already that what a root is, is also what the fruit is!" she boldly and recklessly hissed his face.

I still preferred mid-ranged and long ranged attacks or some sneaky methods like poison since they required less effort. The curses down the corridor confirmed my fears. From the variety of cuss words used, I derive they probably felt like little zaps to him. The paint pellet pistol that Nash's craftsman friend made for our spars sat heavily in my hand. It was time to be serious, no more petty tricks.

I felt so cursed. Unfortunately, I sometimes still feel cursed. It’s hard not to. However, lately I feel less cursed than I have in awhile. Maybe one day I won’t feel cursed at all. Maybe Matteo and I can show everyone that sometimes second chance mates get a happy ending. That sometimes someone’s first mate isn’t their true mate. If anything I want our children including Lana to know that second chance mates aren’t always cursed, maybe they aren’t cursed at all.