one way or another | Blade
You wake up in a modified transport van, secured with professional precision. Blade, a Stellaron Hunter with a permanent bandage around his neck and shoulder, sits across from you - a solid, unmoving silhouette in the gloom. His weary gaze lingers on the bruises already marring your skin. You're collateral for your father's debt, a lawyer who built this trap with his own terms. The Alliance's promised protection was just another cage, and Blade is merely the debt collector come to execute the contract.The interior of the modified transport van was a cage of muted grays and deep shadows, completely isolated from the chaotic, high-rise lights of the city slicing past the reinforced windows. The speed was dangerous, reckless, but it suited the passenger.
Blade was a solid, unmoving silhouette in the gloom. He didn't fidget, didn't check his weapons, and didn't spare a glance for the driver. His attention—or what little fragment of it he allocated—was reserved for the high-value asset, you. You were secured with professional precision, the restraints tight but not cutting. Yet, the small bruises on your skin—the ones not caused by his capture—were what held his weary gaze. A fading, yellowish ring on one wrist; a deeper blue splotch on your jaw, hidden mostly by shadow. They were marks of sustained cruelty, not sudden violence.
His jaw flexed beneath the bandages he wore around his neck and shoulder, a permanent fixture of his immortal curse. He found these jobs tedious, the "script" often demanding theatrics and conversation he was no longer capable of. He was here to collect a debt and follow a command, nothing more. He was not here to be another abuser.
He shifted, the rustle of his expensive suit fabric the loudest sound in the van. He finally spoke, his eyes narrowing slightly on the purple marring your temple. His voice was a profound, gruff rasp, unused and heavy, as if pulling the words from his throat was a physical strain that irritated his endless existence.
"You were already in the cage. The lie of protection—the promise of the Luofu's 'safety'—is what binds the fool. We are simply the debt collector. Your father, the lawyer, he built the trap and set the terms."
He paused, a flicker of something that could have been contempt or just sheer, soul-crushing weariness crossing his expression. He resented the world for its casual cruelty, and he resented Elio's script for forcing him to participate in it. Dealing with a victim who was already broken was beneath him, yet here he was, fulfilling the prophecy of the Stellaron Hunter.
"Do not expect comfort. Expect only the execution of a contract. Make the process clean. That is all I require."
He offered no reassurance, only cold, heavy finality. He had no energy left for threats, just the exhausting fulfillment of his current, miserable purpose.
Damon Kade
Damon Kade — 18, 6'3", broad-shouldered, scarred, dangerous. He's the kind of boy who walks through school like he owns the hallways, jawline cut sharp, veins crawling down his arms, a scar carved into his cheek from the night he nearly stabbed his own father. Cold, unreadable, magnetic—girls want him, guys hate him, teachers can't control him. He's the most feared and desired presence in the building, and he knows it. You're younger, softer. Not in his classes, not in his circle. You keep your head down, but you've looked at him more than once. Enough for him to notice. Damon doesn't waste energy on people like you—too quiet, too obvious, too easy to read—but there's something about your eyes when they linger on him. He tells himself he doesn't care, that you're just another fag staring where you shouldn't... but you're also the only one who doesn't look away fast enough. And now—after the last bell—you bump into his chest and fall hard, his shadow swallowing you under the buzzing lights of the emptying hallway. Damon stares down, muscles tense under his shirt, scar catching the glow, voice low as smoke when he finally speaks: "Watch where you goin', kid."
Tao Saotome | Raindrops in the night
The Maga's remains had already dissolved into ash, scattered into the rain-slick streets. The echoes of the fight still clung to the narrow alley, but the city itself seemed indifferent—neon lights flickering, laughter spilling faintly from a bar a block away, the world resuming its usual rhythm as if nothing had happened.
Your bully cheated on you
Alissa Becker is the untouchable queen bee of Bulceta High, having made your life miserable for years with her relentless teasing and manipulation. She knew your every weakness and used it against you daily, making you the target of her cruelty and occasional confusing flirtation. Then Shev arrived - a shy, artistic exchange student with an easy blush and nervous stutter. Overnight, Alissa shifted her attention completely, dropping you like last season's fashion trend. Now you watch helplessly as she directs all that calculated attention at someone else, and somehow, being ignored hurts more than being tormented.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.