}EMMY POV{
My throat burned as I reached the outskirts of the Last City. I could feel eyes on me as I walked through the streets, hearing the whispers as people stared at me.
From my memories, I could tell that I was close to where Marcus was. Where his club helps drug kids to get taken to WICKED. But the feeling of eyes on me was unnerving. With each step I found myself getting the idea of looking over my shoulder. I silently glanced around, meeting eyes as I tried to find the right building. My feet tapped the ground with each step, my hands grasping my knife in my belt. The knife that Luke had before he disappeared.
I breathed in steadily before pulling the knife out of my belt, holding it so that the cold blade rested against my arm. I walked steadily towards the sound of base buzzing through the air, and the buzzing in the ground. The familiar face of Marcus made me cringe as he was kissing a girl by his side.
I inhale sharply as the smell of alcohol stings my nose, and I blink a few times before approaching him.
"I need to have a word with you," I state as I stop in front of his table, his face attached to the girl's neck.
He slowly drifted from the girl, turning towards me with a disgusting smirk on his face. "And what would a girl like you need to have a word with me for?"
I smile thinly as I tighten my grip on my knife.
"I need directions. To a man named Jorge, I'm sure you know of him."
He hummed as he looked me up and down. "Jorge. Yes, I know of him."
"Then if you would be so kind, I would like the directions to his establishment," I say steadily, trying to resist gagging at both the way he smells and the way he's looking at me.
"And what would I get out of it?" He asked, smirking at me as he leaned forward.
I smiled kindly. "You get to keep your life."
His face freezes for a moment before a loud laugh erupts from him. His disgusting breath fanning through the air, making me openly cringe at the smell.
"You couldn't even make a mark on me little girl. Let alone kill me." He sneered before I lifted my brow slightly.
My hand lifted up, quickly punching him across the face, slicing the knife across his cheek as my hand pulled back. His eyes widened as I stabbed the knife into his leg, my eyes narrowing.
"I believe you will find that I am quite capable of killing. So you better take my offer before you end up being nothing but a rotting carcass." I smirk darkly at him, before smiling as if I didn't have my knife in his leg. "Oh and, I would also be taking Bertha since you so rudely spoke to me. Understand?"
He nodded his head rapidly, whimpering out a quiet yes.
"Thank you for your cooperation." I hiss before sliding the knife out of his thigh.
{YOUR POV}
|THE ORIGINAL WORLD|
I stared at Luke, who seemed to be in shock from waking up. His gaze remained on the ocean as I took a seat beside him.
"How are you today Luke?" I ask gently as I turn to the ocean.
He huffed and shook his head. "Still . . . adjusting to things. Not quite used to being alive again. Not really feeling like I'm truly me again."
"What do you mean?" I ask as I look at him.
He sighs before shaking his head. "Why are you even talking to me? You know what I've done, so why are you being kind to me?"
YOU ARE READING
HB13 The Lost One
Fanfiction×My Strength is an Illusion× We all were saved, the Flare, WICKED, gone from our lives. Yet, something was always burning on the horizon. Like a watchful eye always gazed down on us. It was worrying. I remember the days when the maze walls were the...
