Scraps X Brightney の小説・ストーリー

Scarlett So today I'm going to meet my friend zayn for lunch, he wants a favor and I can do anything for him. Don't get me wrong cause he's my bestfriend from grade 7, I guess. Well whatever, oh sorry I didn't introduced myself I'm scarlett silvermist Williams, world's no. Hacker and software programmer, so you can say I'm kind of rich and I was born in london, I'm a britisher but lives in New York.

She'd been working for Santini since the day she turned legal, and was good. So good, in fact, everyone was a little scared of her. "Which means whatever money you get from the 'dirtbags.'" Scarlett looked at Brittany. "Pays for your bills and that limited edition eyeshadow." Brittany rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She tossed her hair and turned away. "Maybe don't gossip so much before Santini takes a cut out of our paychecks." Scarlet said. Speak for yourself. I thought. I was basically working for free.

She ended up working at a burger place and even had to pay him back. Alexander dealt with everything super fast and confidently, but everyone still called him names like 'jerk' and 'heartless' and said he 'should've seen it coming'. The Blake Group's stock prices took a nosedive. However, that was not for me to fret over. The richest man in the country could handle his own problems. I was too busy getting Mom into a better hospital and sorting out my daughter's school stuff in Itania. Ever since she got back from Fiorenza, she could not stop dreaming about that artsy place. Honestly, I was over Arcland. It was time for us to start fresh somewhere else.

The workshop door is padlocked, but the window above the workbench is cracked for air. I drag a recycling bin beneath it, climbed up, and peer inside. At first I see nothing but shelves and tools. Then my gaze lands on a single photograph tacked to the wall. A car. Black sedan. Its headlights smear through rain. Below it, a date scrawled in red marker 06 / 07. My breath catches. Lightning-fast footsteps crunch the gravel behind me. “Scarlett.” I frooze. Damien stands a few feet away, jaw tight, raincoat hanging open. He looks like he stepped straight from a storm that hasn’t reached the neighborhood yet.

After waking up and feeling sober enough, the memories of happened between Frank and herself came to mind in details. Ding! It was a messge from Agness. [ Good morning sunshine, I hope you had a great night with Mr handsome. I am on my way to your house so please cook some nshima, I have a terrible hangover.” “ I don’t know who is taking care of the other between the two of us .” Laura scoffed as she put down her phone and started to think of what relish would go well with nshima as a hangover meal for lunch.

I hid my hand inside the pocket of my hoodie and starts distracting myself. I entered an alley instead of the entrance in front. The blast of the music inside was already invaded my ears. Club X is where I spent my nights working. Lucas owns this place, he became my friend when I started a fight inside his bar. I stopped walking when I noticed something in the dark corner of the alley, a place where usually there's no light can reach. A two silhouette flashed, I heared a man screams who started pleading, it's not visible but there's a silhouette of two people in the dark. The man who keeps shrieking in pain was lying on the floor, while the other one kick his face.

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

Only mine. *********************

Elena winced. "Ow, my head," she groaned in pain as she looked around. Where was she? She looked around again. It was wide room with small windows covered by dirty curtains, making it suffocating. The paint on the wall was faded, different stains and marks plastered to it. There was a wooden table and chair at the corner of the room, several empty crates, bottles and cigarettes box laying carelessly around. It looked like an old abandoned room.

It's a tattoo of two letters and six numbers. "I've seen this tattoo on dead rouges." I look at Marcus with confusion written all over my face. "Alpha, I have a new theory to add, but I know you are not going to like it," Marcus says to me while pulling something up on his laptop. He turns in around to show me. It's a Missing Person report of a little girl from 10 years ago named Bailey Rhea. "OK, I'm not following." I tilt my head to the side and look at Marcus.