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THE LOST : After The End

In a post-apocalyptic world, you'll find four main types of people. Those who fight with all their might "the hunters." The ones who leech and exploit others "the pests." The predators, who see everyone as prey. And lastly, we have "the survivors," the resilient ones who never give up. Everyone often fits into one category, but it's hard to determine which one Maya falls into. She's not exactly a fighter, considering leaving her room was a chore even before the apocalypse. A predator? No way—she's always been a pushover. You might think she's a survivor, but that's laughable. She'd rather die from starvation than resort to scavenging. So, how should we categorize her? leeche? Nope. Perhaps a new category is needed: "The Lost"—those struggling to find their place in a shattered world."

Donna_Sheldon · Ficção Científica
Classificações insuficientes
58 Chs

CHAPTER 32

Gregor's words hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. My stomach twisted into a knot as his beady eyes lingered on me a little too long. I took a small step back instinctively, trying to make myself invisible, but in a room like this, there was no place to hide.

"What do you mean by that?" Alex asked, his tone cold and dangerous. He didn't move, but there was an edge in his voice that made me glance at him.

Gregor smiled, leaning forward in his creaky chair, the sound grating on my nerves. "It's simple, really. You want something from me, I want something in return. Fair trade, right?"

Alex's jaw tightened. "I don't deal in vague offers. Say what you want."

"Oh, I'll be very clear," Gregor said, his gaze sliding back to me. "Her. I want her."

My heart stopped.