True Life Of The Fabulous Killjoys 소설 & 이야기

He was dead. I killed him.

This time, I was done with him for good. "See you never, Anthony." The End

I had loved him so much that I destroyed myself willingly. I curled up on the floor, my body shaking as silent sobs tore through me. My nails dug into my palm but I felt nothing. All I could see was the blood of all my pups that Cassian killed.

My bed space was quite comfy with my huge teddy bear right on the bed, and my pink and white bed sheets were well tucked into the bed. I took my AirPods and listened to "Waves" by Ella Kess. Ella was my favorite artist, Dad bought all her records and I derived joy from her lyrics. She died at the age of 79, old and happy, her lyrics forever live on. "You think the world doesn't need you, do you feel alone, get a better view that you are what the world needs, you're loved" I sang heartily. Ella Kess was my idol, her songs were interesting with a sweet melody and rhythm. If she was here, I would hug her tightly and let her know she is a lifesaver. I mumbled the lyrics and laughed, for some rea

She’ll weep and scream that I tried to kill her, and they’ll believe her, like they always do. I’ll die in front of them all—Lucian and Damian standing over me, the same men who swore to protect me, pulling the trigger themselves. My hands shake as I shove a box under the bed, desperate for a plan. I tried to leave once. Tried to vanish into the human world, start over, live small until the chaos blew over. But they found me—Lucian and Damian dragged me back, eyes cold, voices filled with hollow regret. “It’s what our mother would’ve wanted,” they said, throwing her will in my face.

"You'll regret this, all of you!" Marcos simply watched, his expression unreadable. "Take her bag," he commanded, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. Amelia swiftly relieved Isabella of her bag. "Let's see what our birthday girl is hiding," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she unzipped the bag. Amelia opened the side and seeing papers and Isabella's custom made Beretta. Amelia whistled, distracted by the gun. "You sure are prepared," she commented, hefting the weapon. "But you won't be needing this where you're going."

" She giggled, the sound sharp and jarring in the quiet room. "That night in the warehouse, we put the call on speaker. She was barely conscious but still used every last bit of strength to scream your name. And guess what you told her? 'You can forget about going home.'" She broke into a jagged, hysterical laugh. "My brother, Jaxton, couldn't even listen anymore. He asked how you could be so cruel to your own fiancee. "It was him who took pity on Sylvia and specially brought in four Rogues, saying he wanted to let her feel the warmth of a real male. Sylvia wept like her soul was breaking the whole time."

And trust was dangerous in a city like this—but it was worth it. The first signs of morning light spilled into the room, painting the walls gold and gray. Aire closed her notebook and looked at Dee. “We start tomorrow. Streets don’t sleep, and neither do we.” Dee nodded. “Then we make them remember why the streets fear fire.” Aire smiled, a mixture of thrill and determination lighting her features. For the first time since her rebirth, she felt fully alive—not just surviving, but commanding her fate. Trevon would learn that the girl he tried to kill was gone. In her place stood someone stronger, smarter, and untouchable.

Howard Jonas has not been a happy man, he lost his wife to cancer few years back, lost his job months later but managed to find another which had a lesser pay but he still could not provide for his children due to his excessive drinking habits but if there was one thing that he hated seeing everytime he’s at home it was his adopted child Marcel. He just didn’t like the boy for some reason and he uses harsh words on him for every mistake he made which made the boy avoid him all the time. It all started when they found him on their front porch wrapped in blankets that looked quite expensive, they just couldn’t believe that someone would abandon a child like that and Howard was all for throwing

“Do you want to talk about it?” Michael slouched further under his covers, the stuffed raccoon falling on his head from atop the pillow. “I dunno.” Which meant yes in kid-speak. Logan pushed the door open and walked over to Michael’s bed, nudging his son’s legs over so he could sit. “I’m sure she’s fine, Michael.” “Do you think Ceto put her in a cage like Joey?” “Joey was in a cage?” Michael had told him about the friend he’d met there, this Joey, but this was the first he’d heard about any cage. It made him shudder to think of what he and Michael had narrowly escaped.