Vecna Victims の小説・ストーリー

"I'm not that petty, Elena." I took it with a sneer, my irritation flickering into confusion—then solidifying into pure ice as I flipped it open. Screenshots. Dozens of them. Pack-link archives, social forum logs, anonymous pings—all targeting Valentina. Accusations that she used her status as an 'injured' she-wolf to hijack a medical transport after a minor fender bender at the Redbridge Overpass. Claims she faked her 'trauma' to force a mating bond. Older whispers, too—that she was a home-wrecker in the Southern Packs, disrupting bloodlines before she targeted the Blackwoods.

Most of them looked like the pictures that would have been on their government photo ID. “These are the victims we know of so far,” X began, “It appears our vetala is interested in testing marital fidelity. These men, he indicated some of the men by touching their pics with his hands in quick succession, were having affairs with the women in the pictures next to them. Both the men and the women are dead. The men were found in a similar condition to the victim that you came with me to see, Carl, exsanguinated with their throats ripped open.”

“Vera colluded with Feral Shifters that attacked our border just today. I watched her lead them right into the heart of the industrial sector! Because of her, our factories, mills, and the family homes that have stood for generations have been burnt to a smolder crips.” Sasha turned to face me. “Because of her, we suffered civilian deaths.” Sasha’s voice was cold. I felt my composure crack. I was certain I had gotten all the civilians out. My heart cracked under the weight of the news.

"She's not the first victim Lia, there's already five of them." That is what haunts my mind over and over again. I feel like I have a broken license plate. All six were victims. The first victim was a senior high school student. She was a tall, white woman. The same goes for the next two but this time they’re already in college. In the fourth and fifth there are jobs like mine. And lastly, Jena is studying in med school.

Shaking his head as he sighs. Irena tried to kill herself... "This shit is all fucked up." he mumbles to himself. "What else did you find out?" I question, eager to know what dark secrets Irena has locked away. "The very same worker who found Irena, her name is Jenette, a domestic worker that came from Mozambique, a rural town called Chokwe and moved to Poland at the age of 19 to live with her extended cousin so that she can earn money for her family." He continued. " A year later Irena unexpectedly appeared at her front door step all busted up. Her clothes were torn, her face was busted. Blood and bruises all over her body. Jenette told me that she was confused and surprised but helped Iren

Real, terrible, unimaginable danger. "Mate. Mate. Mate." My wolf kept howling in pain and that pain was blinding out my vision slowly. Valentina didn't run. This was real. She was kidnapped.

They were steady, folded in front of him, the same composure he had carried since the moment he stood up in his own room hours ago and said I can help with that. "I want to speak about one more thing," he said. "A woman named Venn." My breath caught. "She survived the relocation," he said. "She ran. For two years, she ran, with nothing and no one, until the world finally caught up to her in a way that none of us were ever told the details of." His voice did not break this time, but it went quieter, the careful quiet of a man handling something fragile in front of a room full of strangers. "She gave birth during that time she was running. She named her daughter, and she made sure, somehow, ag

the narrator says. Liberty felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she recalled the terrifying experience of that moment, when enforcers broke down the front door to her house, bound her hands, and dragged her away. She also recalled the sounds of her mother screaming her name as she was forced into the van with the other chosen victims. Those memories caused her to feel an overwhelming sense of fear. "I almost made it to daylight," she whispered as she recalled how much her hands hurt from digging into the icy earth and the terror she felt as she lay in her small hole waiting for morning for freedom. "But someone discovered me," she said. "But I almost made it."

No matter if he irritated her and how much he claimed to hate her, despite knowing he had an obsession with her. He was persistent in the beginning and ended up getting what he wanted. Ruining it all just like that. Then he lost her. And she fell in the arms of another, Angelo. My heart ached at the thought. She had him and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how much hatred I spread, I'd still be the villain. As much as I am the villain, I am too the victim. As heartless as I seemed, I wasn't numb. I felt.

His fingers claw at the air, searching, lost. Now I see it all—their suffering carved into their faces like old runes. The blindness, the weakness. These were once the voices of the West… and now they can barely breathe. “Please… take care of them. We will find their homes later,” I command, my voice firm. “They can’t go home,” Kaela spits, fear twisting her word “Why?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “You remember the elders that were rumored to have been killed and buried by Varyn?” Nyvrae hisses, her voice sharp.