Zoya
I was born in Sweden, but people often ask me where I come from, thinking just because I'm a woman of color, I can't possibly have been born and raised here.
And as a person, I rarely show emotion. I'm a force of nature, an assassin trained to kill. There are no friends on the battlefield called life, and I don't trust anyone. I was handed a knife at three and hired to protect lady Felicia from a young age, but today, I'm putting an end to that.
I'm standing in the courtyard, locking my eyes on the scene taking place on the wall. Giovani is removing the duct tape from Felicia's lips, and then I hear her piercing scream. It sets my heart in motion until I can no longer breathe.
I did this to Felicia, to my master, but the reason I'm horrified is that of my lack of tears.
I wrap my arms around me, and then I stand there, hugging myself while the snow circles down from the sky. In my eyes, the white color has turned to red.
Am I even
Amelia The scent of firewood is drifting through the cabin. I'm sitting next to Ryan on the couch, wearing nothing but my nightgown. Neither one of us is speaking. Instead, I'm staring at my naked feet and listening to the universe laugh at me. Ryan inhales deeply and glances down at me. His fingers are centimeters away from my thighs, resting on the couch. "Are you mad at me?" His question cuts into me like a knife, and I pull my lips into my mouth, already breaking apart at what I'm going to say. I've always believed myself to be an angel, but it seems even someone like me is flawed and just as ugly as everyone else. "No, I'm not mad at you." I meet his blue, concerned eyes with a sad smile. This will be a tremendous step for us. I'm about to pour out my heart, and it's not easy giving someone your complete trust. "I should be mad at you, but..." I have to bite my lips to hold back my tears. "Felicia hurt me, again and again with that knife, and...
My thoughts are too hazy and many to make sense of. So I give them up when more fireworks go off within me. Unable to control my body, I throw my head back on the couch, relishing the assault of Ryan's skilled tongue on my clit. God, I'm so wet and slick for him. I'm actually feeling light-headed—fainting is a possibility. Ryan's palms are stroking my waist, and he lifts his head, flashes me a sexy grin, and dips down again, adding more force to his tongue. I lift my bottom in response and moan when his tongue finds that burning, delicious spot. Fuck me. I'm squirming beneath him, bathing in my own sweat. His mouth is like a drug, and I'm the dirty junkie—I can't get enough of this man! "It feels... Too good..." My voice sounds too animalistic to be mine, breathier than ever. Something is building up within me, but Ryan is the devil; he stops licking me as if he knows precisely what is happening. "What do you want, Amelia?" He is kissing a pat
Ryan's arms are gently squeezing me. His breaths are slow, heavy, and at peace; meanwhile, my heart is galloping inside my chest. I'm too curious and renewed by our lovemaking to fall asleep. So instead, I turn around on the couch, facing Ryan. Thick eyelashes are fanned out on his cheeks, brown hair is dangling over his shaped eyebrows, and the side of his face is resting on his huge bicep. He looks gorgeous, and I feel butterflies swarm my insides when he opens his eyes to faintly smile at me. "Can't sleep?" Ryan's eyes are locked on my face. He looks tired but is keeping himself awake. I chew on my bottom lip with a smile of my own. "I have too many questions," "Ask away..." "The questions will be rather deep, and some you might get angry with me hearing," Ryan chuckles. He is simply stunning. Taking him in, the air rush out of my lungs, and my heart kicks up speed. Those curling lips combined with that glint in his eye are enough t
Zoya Some people claim we overthink and feel too little, and in my case, that would be correct. After some thinking through the night, I know that I can't stay here if I ever want to sleep again. It doesn't matter that I get butterflies when Billy winks at me, he is taken, and my mind is set on survival; therefore, I need to get out of here. I'm sitting in Billy's hallway, putting on my shoes to the sound of birdsong coming from outside. It's such a pleasant sound in comparison to what I heard last night. The sound of Courtney moaning will haunt me forever; Billy pounded into her all night. The two of them were busy destroying his entire second floor. Disturbing squeals filled my ears all night, and nothing could muffle out the sound of Courtney; her animalistic sounds reached me even when I was trying to hide under my blanket. So even though becoming Billy's bodyguard is an exciting offer, I won't ever be able to sleep inside this cabin, not
ZoyaAmelia is already inside the barn when I walk inside, milking that black and white cow called Wanda while sitting on a chair. She is wearing an oversized Adidas hoodie over a pair of jeans—it's probably Ryan's, judging from how she is swimming in it.Strangely enough, she looks cute in his clothes, but the scars on her cheeks got sudden guilt piercing my heart.Awkward.I'm about to turn around from where I came from, but Amelia stands up, and I grimace as the silence unfolds. Her eyes flicker with surprise once she notices me, and I awkwardly wave at her, hoping she won't send Ryan to kill my ass."You..."Here it comes, the get-the-fuck-out-of-here speech. Of course, I deserve it for watching Felicia cut into Amelia's face like a self-proclaimed plastic surgeon, but I had hoped to live for another day."Thank you..."Wait.What did Amelia say?!My eyebrows shoot for the roof. Amelia walks to stand rig
ZoyaThe zombie screeches like a vulture and takes charge with its mouth snapping air.I brace myself for the end, already imagining death's hands around my neck, choking me slowly. I'm a tough girl, but ever since I was forced to kill my sister when she turned, I've suffered PTSD. As a result, whenever I look a zombie in the eye, I'm rendered paralyzed, too traumatized by the memory to act.My sister screamed the day I murdered her, cried until her brown eyes turned hauntingly blue, and without thinking, I shot her. Blood splattered everywhere, painting my face red as my knees buckled. I fell on the floor and stared down at my hands, shaking for what felt like eternities until Felicia told me to get over it.Felicia was a ruthless master, but she gave me enough strength to press on and shut off my emotions. With Felicia by my side, I could face any obstacle, but right now, I'm weak.I'm a lone wolf without a pack, and it will be my downfall.
Amelia The courtyard has turned into a battlefield. Men are dying, screaming, and getting eaten by sun-exposed zombies, but I can’t focus on anything else other than finding Ryan. “Wow, this place looks like a mess,” Zoya whistles. “I hope your man is okay.” Unease settles into my chest, prickles my skin, and makes me shiver as I watch the dead bodies in the snow. There are so many. Ugh. I hope Ryan is alright. He kidnapped me, and we had a rough start and a quarrel, but my heart is praying that he is okay. Maybe I’ve developed a Stockholm syndrome, but I don’t know what I would do if I found Ryan injured, or worse, dead. It felt so good when he touched me like we were finally standing on equal grounds, and I regret being mad at him for asking about the cure he thinks my father has created. Ryan simply asked a question, an important one since the zombies are growing in numbers, and I thanked him by getting grumpy myself. I don’t want h
Ryan The zombies attacked this morning. I don't know who opened the gates or why the infected herd would ignore the blazing sun. Light kills them slowly, and after having shot a few of them, I've made the conclusion they seem to be under mind control. None of them seemed aware of their actions, and what baffles me more is that they didn't care about their burning, rotten skin either. I also noticed that they are scary strong. Damn, I hope Amelia is alright. I don't care about what she said about being a clone. I spent most of the night thinking about her words while staring up at the ceiling—it turns out I don't give a fuck if she was born the natural way or if she was created. My dick still twitches at the thought of getting buried deep inside of her. I like Amelia. She makes me want to be a better person. I don't know that much about her yet, but I know enough to conclude that she is unique. When I first met her, she was shy and withdrawn, b