𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎 || ❝And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you, and I'd choose you.❞ ||
↳ 𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 a murder machine, a coffee addict, and their dysfunctional family attempts to sav...
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WE ARRIVED AT the location. There was mainly forest and trees, but in the middle of it was a house. "Stay in here, okay?" Allison patted my shoulder.
I was about to protest, but stopped myself. I got to be here because I had agreed to do exactly as she said. I nodded, slouching back into my seat, letting out a frustrating sigh.
She slammed the door shut and went to check out the house. Allison came back after a couple of minutes.
I sat up straight, waiting for her to tell me what she saw. "She's not here." She sighed. I groaned and slouched back again.
~~~☂️~~~
Great... we are stuck in traffic. I could see police cars in the distance. Something must've happened. And that something definitely caught Allison's eye.
"Come on." She unbuckled her seat belt and quickly got out. I was taken aback from the sudden urge to get out of the car.
I quickly got out, following close behind her. She grabbed the white and blue scarf that was hanging on one of the lights.
"Vanya." We both said in unison. Allison turned around and went under the yellow tape, but was immediately stopped by an officer.
"I gotta ask you to stay behind the lines. We had an accident here last night." He said.
I panicked a little. Please tell me Vanya isn't hurt. My anxiety was killing me.
"What kind of accident?" I quickly said.
"Ma'am. The line, please." The officer gestured for us to move. Allison dragged us to the other side, ducking to get under the tape.
Allison and the cop talked for a bit, but he just blew us off. He was about to walk away when Allison spoke again.
She took off her glasses. "Look, officer, if there is anyway..."
"Holy shit!" The officer interrupted her. "You're Allison Hargreeves, right?" He exclaimed. Oh, right, I keep forgetting she's a famous actor.
He then looked at me, his eyes widening once more. "And you're Number Eight!" The officer was overjoyed. It took me by surprise, I didn't know I was still famous after all these years.
"Uh, it's (Y/N) Hargreeves." I tried to be as friendly as possible. I just hate it when someone calls me 'Number Eight'. It reminds me of Dad, which I do not want to remember.
