The Most Powerful (The Wrath)

Chapter 1 (The Act Of Carelessness)

2018: Everything has fallen apart.

We expected better, considering that's what we were told. That being a Chosen One was a gift, to love and to be loved. But we are a disaster, and not a beautiful one.

The legends of us uniting and being one were exactly that: legends. God's people are now just as disgraceful and putrid as those we fight against. I tried to steer them in the right direction and failed, which is sad considering that I was once Satan's greatest ally.

The Spirit was at a loss. The most important person to him has betrayed us. His wife had joined the resistance against both the Enemies and the Chosen Ones. A middle ground that strove to kill us each. He was in a dark place, which left whipping the Chosen Ones in shape to Chambers.

But Chambers was off the deep end. I couldn't even consider his position anymore, which left the Chosen Ones to run wild. And one girl in particular was making the chaos evolve from within. A new Chosen One.

Micheal has fallen, which he is embarrassed about. His heartless ego went down the drain. And he fought Carmine for a while, but he didn't succeed. It didn't make matters any better when the new trouble maker makes fun of those who have fallen. She claims it is a weakness, and in some ways it is.

Everyone gave up on us. The Spirit even had his doubts. But I never will. We may seem horrendous, but anyone will get that way when the only people they ever knew destroyed them. And everyone here had that problem of some sort. But they are not truly evil, no one is. They just lived a painful life.

Which leaves me trapped. Bound to heal the Chosen Ones without doing any more damage. But by now, everyone had wavering faiths. The Chosen One race may soon be taken out if not put to good use.

Katherine only made it harder for me. She hates the Chosen Ones, and she is in sorrow for her animal friends. She was always close to them, therefore they were her pets. But I don't know if she'll ever come back to reality. And I don't know how to get the Chosen Ones under control after what happened to The Chosen Animals....

Liberty

2017: The bright morning light shone through the pale curtains in our room at Carrie's house. Ian suddenly pulled me down, only to lend kisses down my neck, which always gave me the chills. He set me free after a moment, tucking my black and white hair behind my ear.

"Remember when you were terrified of my touch?" I questioned teasingly, a smile forming on his lips, and it only made mine grow bigger. His fingertips ran down my spine comfortingly as he looked up at the ceiling in remembrance.

"I was forced to get over that," he blamed. I playfully hit his chest, which sent me railing into childish giggles. "Guess I'm just another victim to the fatal love facade."

"The only thing fatal would be to continuously resist your lover," I stated, my mind flashing back to Micheal's almost suicide. He truly didn't want to fall, but he also had the most to lose. The knife made for a Devil pressed to his heart, the tears and hopelessness in his eyes, the fear in his heart will never escaped any of our minds. He was the runner, Carmine was the chaser. And there's almost always one of each in the relationship. One that's desperate for love, and the one that has rejected it long enough to turn it into a phobia. But I doubted it was only Chosen Ones that were that way.

"Depends on your lover," Ian said, my brown eyes focusing on his once again.

"Everyone deserves second chances," I spoke softly, running a hand through his light hair.

"But then where do you stop?"

He had a point. Those who handed out chances like that were those who got stepped on. Those that would be taken advantage of in this cruel world.

"I'm glad I fought to keep you," I smiled, resting my head on his lean chest, breathing is his cologne/outdoors scent.

"I love you," he cooed, making the butterflies in my stomach rise, just like each time he said that.

"I love you too," I said back, the softness of his lips engulfing mine as I fell into his embrace.

Variety

Max found me sleeping on the streets rather than to face him in the bedroom. He basically kidnapped me and then trapped me in the room with the person I didn't want to confront. So, he confronted me.

"What are you doing sleeping on the streets?" He demanded to know, as if he actually cared. He stared me down until words finally escaped my mouth.

"I didn't want to come back to the person who uses me for sex." I looked downward in fear of looking into his green/blue eyes.

"Why? You let any other man do it. Isn't that your philosophy? 'You give them sex, they give you shelter'?" I glared up at him, my eyelashes spider- like on my skin below the brow.

"I don't want to live that way anymore. I'm tired of it. If I keep living this way, I'm going to end up dead at my own hands." He flinched in reaction to the harsh truth as though it hurt. "You actually care about what happens to me?" I asked doubtfully, yet was secretly touched.

"I'm done talking about this," he said, shaking his head as though to shake the thought out of his brain.

"If you care, then speak now. Because if you don't, then nothing is in my way," I tested him, his expression of pride wavering.

"I don't really care what you do." At that, I pulled out a gun from his duffle bag, the tip of the gun to my temple. "Wait! Wait," he started, shaking his head in denial. I cocked it to make him panic. "Okay! I care about you, alright? I don't know why or how, and I know that I shouldn't, but I do. Maybe it's the fact that you were a victim to something you couldn't control, which makes you a weakness of mine." My mind flashed back to what my parents made me do with those men, and what they did to me.

I put the gun down to give him relief. He sighed as I released my grip, the gun falling safely onto his bag. He actually came forward and put his arms around me. I didn't know what the movement was, but I did it back to show that I cared as well.

Opal

I scanned Carrie's fridge, searching for the one thing most vital to my well-being. Alcohol. I let myself have a free pass for a while because of my parent's deaths. And I knew I couldn't just continue with the addiction in excuse for grief. But the more I resisted, the weaker my body became. So, I rationed myself daily.

John made his way into the kitchen, lighter in hand for his morning smoke. He raised an eyebrow at me, seeing as we were both faltering for our wants. One more glass for me, and it could be lights out for good. One more cigarette for him, and he just might have the same issue.

"I'm only having one glass," I almost vowed, eyeing him as he pulled one stick from his pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

"It only takes one," he sighed, looking down at it like he had a death wish. "I thought we made a deal. You quit, I quit."

"We did. But first we need to cut back before we cut it all off," I stated, setting the glass down after gulping it down. "John," I started before he made his way out the door. My face grew many shades of red as I stumbled for words, desperate to keep calm when asking. "Do you think there's a chance-?" I cut off, literally almost tearing up from the embarrassment. I wasn't one to put myself out there. "Maybe we could-" I gulped. "Do you like movies?"

A smirk perked upon one corner of his lips, which made my heart beat speed up even more. Either he found it intriguing, or he thought of me as a joke. There was no in between for him.

"We'll see," he simply stated, stopping before he went out the door. "I must warn you that I'm not the kind of guy you'd want to date, as you may have seen. But usually I don't have to tell girls that, seeing as they run the opposite way when I open my mouth," he snickered, making me return a smile.

He actually smiled before he went out the door. He smiled. John and I have gotten in depth with the talking, and he's made me smile plenty of times at the cause of his dark humor, but not once did I ever see him smile. Only a chuckle or a smirk, but never out of sheer happiness. I was beginning to have hope for us, even if it was really petty. But what can I say? I'm easily swooned, that's why I normally never get involved with people.