The Revange Kind Of Type {Anya Corazon X OCF}

Chapter 1

Three Years Later, New York

Three years had passed since Anya’s disappearance. Julie, Mattie, and Cassie had moved in together to attend college. Living together seemed like the best option—they couldn’t afford rent individually, and Cassie wanted to keep an eye on them.

Mattie had come to terms with Anya’s disappearance, but Julie often found herself imagining what life would have been like if Anya had stayed. Both girls were thriving academically—Mattie in Management, and Julie in English Philosophy. They had also begun developing strange, spider-like abilities that Cassie was helping them understand.

Life seemed to have settled into a peaceful routine. That is, until one fateful summer evening.

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Julie had just returned from a night out with friends, celebrating the end of the school year. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she belonged. She had a boyfriend who loved her, friends who accepted her, and she still had Mattie and Cassie by her side. Everything felt perfect.

As she walked down a narrow alleyway, the sound of a gunshot shattered her tranquility. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. A million thoughts raced through her mind, but she forced herself to focus. Cassie had trained them for moments like this—to help, not run away.

Swallowing her fear, Julie cautiously approached the source of the sound. She saw two bloodied men lying on the ground, and a girl slumped against the wall. As she drew closer, recognition hit her like a punch to the gut. It was Anya.

Her heart raced as she rushed to Anya’s side, but before she could help, Anya recoiled in fear. "Don’t touch me!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and filled with panic. Julie stepped back, shaken by Anya’s reaction.

Anya, barely clinging to consciousness, tried to prop herself up against the wall, but her strength was fading. "Anya," Julie pleaded, "I know it’s been a long time, and you might not want to see us, but please, let me help. You’re hurt—you’ve been shot."

Anya hesitated, her eyes clouded with pain and exhaustion. She took a deep, shaky breath and whispered, "No matter what happens, don’t touch my skin or my blood."

With those cryptic words, Anya’s body went limp, and she collapsed into unconsciousness.

Julie’s mind raced. She had to get Anya back to Cassie’s apartment, but Anya’s warning echoed in her head. Not knowing what else to do, Julie found a blanket nearby and carefully wrapped Anya in it, ensuring she didn’t touch her directly. She hailed a taxi, and together, they sped through the city streets toward the one place that might hold the answers.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the apartment’s windows as Julie sat on the couch, staring at Anya's motionless body lying on Cassie's bed. Mattie paced anxiously by the kitchen, her brow furrowed in frustration. Cassie hovered near the door, her arms crossed as she alternated between watching over Anya and exchanging concerned glances with the others.

It had been a tense few hours since Julie had brought Anya back. Her once vibrant friend now looked pale and gaunt, as if the life had been drained from her during her mysterious absence. Anya's skin was cold to the touch, her breathing shallow, and though they had cleaned up the bullet wound, her condition remained unstable.

"Why won't she wake up?" Mattie finally asked, breaking the heavy silence. Her voice was edged with worry, but also a hint of anger. "Three years, Julie. Three years, and she just shows up in an alley, bleeding and almost dead. What happened to her?"

Julie sighed deeply, rubbing her hands over her face. "I don’t know. She wasn’t exactly in a state to explain when I found her. But something’s wrong—something way beyond the physical. She warned me not to touch her skin or her blood. I don’t know why, but it scares me."