webnovel

They called me FIVE

**READ ME** THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION. ******* My name? Lance Augustus Age? 15 Nickname? Five. Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. _________________________________ "Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive."  I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary. He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life.  He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap? He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman. He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. So our search began. For the remaining TEN. ___________________________________

phoenixhyperion · 都市
分數不夠
243 Chs

Vol.2 Sam

Sam, in his fury picked up the bottle at the desk beside the door and throw it at the figure. It caught it of course. It cocked its head.

"Why throw at me?"

Sam sneered. "Lies. Lies. Lies." He keep shaking his head. Anger is fuming in his chest. He doesn't want to admit it. But the way this figure tell him downright nonsense about wishes and rewinding time hits him hard. 

Because that was what he wished. All these years. Sam will curl up in the corner, looking for his dad. Shouting at the distance where no one can hear his pleas. His cries. He cut himself a lot of times, wishing he died. 

But he was alive anyway. Breathing and barely moving. What's the point of suicide if this wretched world won't let him see his father?