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Assassin's Tears

🇺🇸0_shinigami_0
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Synopsis
--TW - guns/violence-- Other than the fire crackling, there was silence. Nothing more than that. Just the two of us in the colorless, dead world. Where we had to do everything to survive. He stares at my wrist, he looks up and our eyes meet. "Are you still scared of me?" My voice breaking the perfect silence.
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Chapter 1 - Thorns and Shotguns

The air in my lungs seems stiff and hard. I almost feel like I'm suffocating but not quite. My eyes open, or at least I think they do, I'm surrounded by water. It stings my eyes but they won't close, no matter how hard I try. Bubbles escape my mouth and water replaces my oxygen. My eyes slip shut as I wake up, alerted. I lift my trembling hands to my head. I cradle my head and give myself a few moments to calm down before noticing where I am or what happened. I haven't had a nightmare like that in well.. I can't remember when to be honest. Maybe I can't think of when because I never had one. With a sigh, I lift my head and look around me.

I am on a couch but it's not in a room. Instead, the couch is outside in the middle of a field by a ditch. Everything is a muted tone of color. There is no bright coloring. No colors that pop out at you. Just a bland world. "What happened here?" I ask out loud as if there was anyone to answer me. As I turn my back to look behind me, I find my old home. Windows broken, bricks falling out. The walls, which were white, are now tinted brown. As I turn back, I exhale slowly and stand up. Well I sort of stand up, my legs collapse from under me and I roll down into the ditch. I think there was once a river in the ditch but there wasn't even a pile of mud left in it. Just.. dirt. Can't say that the dirt made this fall any better or softer. 'Great, just what I need.' I sit up and stare at my now dirty clothes. I'm wearing what looks like a light, muted pink dress and one brown-tinted, white, knee-high sock. I run my fingers through my hair, gather it, and move it to my left shoulder. My hair is a dirty blonde color and goes down to the middle of my back. I part my bangs, more on the one side than the other, and smile to myself.

As I put back down my hair, I see a type of marking on my arm. It was a decent size, and noticeable from afar. It's a wrap of rose-thorn vines around my left wrist. Counting them one at a time, there are a total of 8. I try my best to try and remember when I got these on me but I can't think of anything. You would think that getting a huge tattoo like this would be forever engraved into your memory. Yet, my memory has gaps. I remember my parents and my siblings. I have two sisters, who are twins, Ami and Claire. Ami was really smart and didn't care much for being popular. While Claire was the polar opposite, she was as dumb as a rock and loved being popular. They were both very pretty. They had this wonderful sleek brown hair and charming hazel eyes. There are quick blurs of memories about me and this.. boy. Yet I don't remember any details about him. And I remember my white, fancy, brick stone house. It was two stories but had plenty of room for me, my twin sisters, our parents, and our beloved pets. We had a black kitten named Mittens and a rainbow parrot named Skittles. I remember in great detail on how Mittens would chase Skittles and how Skittles never shut up.

My memories are interrupted by a huge crash and I'm brought back to reality. I quickly lay down and look up the hill at the house. There is an enlarged human-like head looking directly at me through a broken window. It's a pale tone and is over-muscled. Veins are popping out of it's shoulders and neck. I move my legs slightly and it's eyes widen as it takes a leap out of the window. It doesn't seem to care that it cut it's arm and it is bleeding heavily. It hits the ground, hard, and it's arm collapses. It lets out a large cry and cradles it's arm. I take my chance and make a run for it. I hear some thuds but don't dare to look back. I trip over my own feet but get right back up. I keep running, not looking behind me. Then the thuds start to get quieter and quieter as I run but I don't risk stopping.

»»————— ❈ ————-««

I drop to my knees in the middle of a dark street. Not sure how I ran from a ditch to a street but I also wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I would rather not be killed by whatever that was. The street has trash everywhere, potholes, and is lined with houses. But everything is the same here. No color. Broken windows. Doors missing. I gather my strength as my stomach rumbles for some food. As I start to stand up, I look around me. I see a group of shadows coming from down the road. They aren't in straight lines, more like a huddle. They seem to be running, fast, down the road. I don't have time to think before they are already at me. I look up at the man in front of me, darkness covering his features, shotgun pointed at my forehead. Men surround me, all pointing guns at me. I close my tear-filled eyes, and brace for impact.