Pant… Pant… Pant…
As the luminous night engulfed me. Leaves swayed along my desperation. It was dark, eerie, and vast that it suffocates me. I kept maintaining my vision as the air I breath stabbed my chest, stopping me from moving forward.
I was scared, scared of losing her. The man took her away from me, yet searching, in hope to find them. I didn't know where, but I'll do anything to take her back.
I took up all the courage and screamed out my lungs, calling out her name. The trees—like a silent storm—continued dancing. I ran for who knows how long or if I will ever catch up. Wounds slowly embraced my small, petit figure from stumbling repeatedly. However, it didn't matter to me as long as I took her back with me.
When I saw a blonde headed girl, I called out, "Big Sister!" with relief in my face. But she did not respond to my call. I ignored the sting of pain from the wound that kept me from running.
"No! No! Please don't take her!" Again, I screamed in distress as I reached out my little hands towards her. I was already at my limit. Calling her name, hoping for her to hear me, running like being chased.
Finally, she turned back, as her pale skin radiated together with the moonlit sky. Her honey brown eyes that were meant to be gentle and kind, were replaced with shock and confusion.
She struggled from the man's grip as she tried to say something to me. I vaguely hear anything she utter; she gave me a gesture which I think she wanted me to stay away from her and I couldn't understand why. I was so close—so close—to her.
A man in a dark brown suit with its matching trouser turned back and stared at me. When he looked directly into my honey brown eyes; his ocean blue eyes slowly turned red. Fear and horror was visible on my face. His beautiful silver hair dazzled like the moon above.
Slowly, the silver moon descends, supporting his beautiful image. However, its color soon changes to red like his eyes. All my strength began to fade, all my courage began to cower, and my vision began to wary as darkness started to overwhelm me.
Gasp! Pant… Pant… Gulp… Pant… Pant… Pant…
The dream made him tremble uncontrollably, he clenched his fist and leaned his back onto his chair. When he managed to calm himself, the door suddenly burst open revealing a beautiful woman.
"What the heck?! You were sleeping here while all of us are working our ass off?!" Although, her attitude is not something to be praised to.
Considering how she said it, proves that they don't share the same interest and befriends each other. Sarcastically speaking, their closeness towards each other would most likely turn into a huge fight that they would rather die than work together.
"I accidentally dozed off." He scratched the back of his head as he responded to her in a cold tone.
"What do you want, Sheryl?" he added.
He silently checked if his eardrums were bleeding or not. Sheryl just rolled her eyes, crossed her arms as she leaned the side of the door.
(Special Agent) SA-Sheryl Emerson: Long Range Type [Sniper]
Wearing a crimson maxi/longline top and a pair of high-waist white skinny jeans. Alice's eyes, brown hair as well as her fair skin bestows her curves and beauty. Her modelled type body made her look like some veteran model, but is an exact opposite of what she really does.
Her—being a sniper—is not just a simple skill she honed; it has been there since the day she was born. In short, it's her ability. By the time Sheryl marks her target, she can shoot her opponent even if they are a hundred kilometres away.
"Get up. It's time and stop being lazy." Sheryl informed him, so he took a black folder and stood from his chair. He walked past her without waiting for her caused her to roll her eyes again and lazily composed herself then followed him.
"You should at least learn how to respect your seniors, you know. Or maybe you didn't bother to listen to your parents about it." She gave out an insulting comment, expecting him to defend himself. However, the exact opposite response she didn't expect to receive.
"I guess, I didn't." He replied dryly whereas his attention didn't falter by her remarks.
It made her provocation stabbed back at her and her face grim in malevolence. Despite wanting to exterminate him, she couldn't.
Him—being the most valuable subordinate among them—is a proof of how important he is. She tries to calm herself, thinking that she shouldn't let a kid sentence her to death.
They walked pass from room-to-room, floor-to-floor until they arrived in an old-massive door that was split into two. There were two agents guarding both ends of the door.
They wore a royal purple suit jacket and the same goes to their suit pants, with black polo underneath and polished leather shoes.
Sheryl pressed a certain woodblock beside one of the agents, revealing a wide and spacious hall known as the meeting hall. They marched toward the seven thrones; each seat was given to the high rankers.
The back of each throne was made of glass with women wearing an asymmetric white dress and a gold belt wrapped asymmetrically to their waist. Their long hairs were added with some see-through vail then secured with a golden crown and different backgrounds.
Their hands crossed each other forming an "x" as if securing themselves while looking down in those seven thrones. There were people already seated in those thrones as they chatted and bickered with each other.
They all stopped when they noticed him and Sheryl who greeted them with respect. The people that were seated in those thrones called themselves the Heads.
...