Chapter 134

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Chapter 134

Here we go! We get to see Striker side of the story on what has been happening.

Will be long.

Warning: OOC, random craziness, Error past dark abuse, many other troubles if mention, cursing, killing, dark themes, racism mention, stuff children/teen shouldn't do, profanity, self-harm, suicidal moments, cheating, sexual moments mentioned, violence, smoking, drugs, alcohol, guns mention, animal death, cringe, bullying, yandere, musical/singing moments and bad flirts.

Error/Moxxie speaking/speaking/singing

Voices/Text/Flashback/Singing

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A low groan left their mouth. Eye lids began to open up. Vision began to focus back. Then they went wide as they moved up fast.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

That troll.

"I did warn you before to not move? Your body still being healed."

Striker looks across to see Medea behind the bars. A smile was still on their faces. Eyes closed again.

That fiery orange.

"Before you asked. We have moved you somewhere else. Safety along with part of the jail sentence. Until we move forward to the next step. Still plenty of room by the way- "

"Did you leave the message?"

Medea stopped but nodded. "I did...They said sorry."

Striker was silent as his head went down. "Talking with that blue blood did nothing."

"To be fair I wouldn't think they would be in the right mindset."

A low hissed. Sure, not in the right mindset. Or just want to make sure they don't get any kind of chance. "How long was I out when you move me?"

"Two days. Now no more question time. Just rest, take the meds and food on the way. I say in a few days should be able to do some physical work again."

"Not going to come in here and shove it down my throat."

The shortest of the pair tilt their head. "Don't push it, Striker. I only do that if it's a last option. If you don't take it. Well, that's on you."

"Oh? How so thoughtful." Striker snarled but still keeping his eyes on him wearily. Guarded up. "Did you find them?"

"We did. Got to say you're quite clever how you hid them. Being looked over." Tap the metal bar. "Very clever to have a recorder like that. A lot of money to get one of those. Unless stolen? Trade?"

"I got my intel. You got yours." Striker is not willing to trade everything of his line of business. "Still, trying to put my head around you know Savage Division."

Yes, that the special forces, the personal guards of Wrath are called.

"Fair enough. By the way some interesting imps came by when we left. It was a bit of trouble as the guards all most shot them on site."

Just take a look, not sure where this is going.

"A mariachi bands?"

"Keep those fuckers away from me." Striker snarled. Did they seriously follow after them? Little damn stubborn bastereds. Twitch as Medea giggles.

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