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Chapter 52 ~Angel's POV~
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SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 53 ~ANGEL'S POV~
I'M HUNCHED OVER, SUCKING IN AIR as blood dribbles down my chin. Wincing, I yank out the arrows lodged in my chest one by one, the pain making me hiss through my teeth. I rise to my feet with a grunt and lift my shirt, watching in morbid fascination as my wounds close up like some sick magic trick. Winter's breath hitches, her hands clapping over her mouth as if to trap her gasp inside. "How did you—?" she stammers, her voice barely a whisper. "How...?" I chew on the inside of my cheek, at a loss for words. I'll just have to tweak her memory later. For now, I turn my attention to the Hunters or WVH, as Winter calls them. They advance with unhurried steps, dressed to kill—literally. Their sleek, charcoal gray outfits hug their muscular bodies like a second skin, while dark grey armor plates enhance their silhouette, covering all the important bits like chest, back, shoulders, forearms, and shins. Their utility belts, laden with pouches and holsters, hold an array of weapons and tools
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 54 ~ANGEL'S POV~
THE SCREAM RIPS THROUGH THE AIR like a sonic boom, a hurricane of force that slams into me with the power of a freight train. I'm sent flying, tumbling through the air like a leaf in a storm. It's a wonder my skin doesn't peel right off my bones. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stake-wielding Hunter get knocked off his feet, his weapon skittering across the ground. Wand Guy—let's just call him Wandman—is quicker on the uptake, throwing up a magical shield around himself just in time. His face contorts with effort as he channels his energy into maintaining the barrier, teeth gritted in concentration. As Winter's scream fades, the magical bonds holding me captive disappear, and I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. My body feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, and my wounds stubbornly refuse to heal. Guess there's a limit to my supernatural healing abilities, after all. Wandman's shield flickers and dissipates, and he drops to his knees, exhausted from the effor
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 55 ~ANGEL'S POV~
AS THE STAKE PLUNGES DOWN, the sound of ripping flesh echoes through the night, making my stomach churn. I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Mr. Aura's eyes widen in surprise, mirroring my own shock. Then, without warning, Mr. Aura crumples to the ground with a heavy thud. Standing behind him, his hand slick with blood, is none other than Casper. His eyes are wide as saucers, fixed on the still-beating heart in his hand. "I killed him," he mutters, his voice trembling with shock. But our moment of victory is short-lived, as Casper lets out a blood-curdling scream. A bullet rips through the air, tearing into his flesh. He grits his teeth, his face contorting in pain as he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Before he can speed off, I use the last ounce of my strength to utter a single word: "Wait." Casper pauses, his body tense and ready to bolt. "Winter," I manage to croak out. "She's in the truck
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 56 ~CASPER'S POV~
VIVALDI EYES MY BATTERED FORM with a disapproving shake of his head, like a parent scolding a child who's come home covered in mud. Crouching down, he begins to extract the wooden bullets lodged in my body, eliciting a series of groans and winces from me. "Just a few days without me by your side, and look at the mess you've become," he says with a tsk.Suddenly, a bullet whizzes through the air toward Vivaldi, on a collision course with the back of his skull. But in a lightning-fast move, he spins around and plucks the bullet from the air like he's catching a fly. "Hmph," he scoffs, shaking his head with a tut-tut-tut. "The fear of me is the beginning of wisdom," he declares with a sly grin.Without warning, he hurls the bullet back at the Hunters with deadly force. The air crackles as it rockets toward them, almost creating a spark. Before the Hunters can register the approaching projectile, it pierces through one of their throats, leaving a gaping hole. Blood gurgles from the Hunter
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 57 ~Vivaldi's POV~
LEGS CASUALLY CROSSED, I “HMMPH” as the peculiar yet strikingly handsome vampire Angel—with his wavy hair, flowing past his chiseled jawline—tries to weasel his way out of my fury by launching into an uncalled-for life story. His oceanic eyes look into mine as he reveals how he abandoned home after failing his family, how he struggled as a lonely kid, and how everything hit the fan when his vampire instincts decided to take a joyride.Angel broods as he recounts his need for assistance in regaining control and reshaping his life into something remotely resembling a human existence. All the while, I study his sculpted features, trying not to roll my eyes at the sob story before me. His brow furrows in faux-despair as he swears he never meant to get on my last nerve...blah, blah, blah. I am unimpressed, as a glistening tear streams down his cheek, no doubt a calculated attempt to evoke sympathy for his angsty past. As his tale reaches its melodramatic conclusion, I can't help but smirk
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 1 ~ Vivaldi's POV~
SO, HERE I AM, SPRAWLED OUT on this cold, damp cave floor, naked and vulnerable. My small hands are cuffed with massive chains, and as I try to move, I let out a groan that bounces off the cave walls like a wounded animal’s cry. My flesh and bones scream in unison, each one throbbing in agony. The keys to my freedom lay temptingly close on the gritty cave floor, but my hands are shaking, weighed down by the heavy chains and pulsating pain. I have to tough it out, waiting for my secret superpowers to kick in and patch me up. They’ll knit my broken bones, stitch my torn flesh, and ease that relentless, shrieking pain. The cave walls are splattered with dried blood, like some twisted abstract art gone haywire. Deep claw marks scar the stone surface, evidence of my, "Wolf" abilities. Finally, sweet relief washes over me! The pain ebbs away as my body miraculously knits itself back together. With a triumphant grunt, I grab the keys, fumble with the locks of the chains until they fall of
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 2 ~Vivaldi's POV~
SO, THERE I AM, BLOOD RUNNING cold as ice, 'cause I know things are about to get as messy as a food fight in a cafeteria. I do that thing where I tilt my head, lips scrunching into a perfect 'O', trying to remember what I'd said about this guy. Oh, right—Mr. Bean Head and his shiny baldness. Yup, I'd stepped in it now, like a fresh pile of dog poo on a brand-new pair of sneakers. I let out a fake laugh, "I say, I want a mug of beer!" But he's not buying my little song and dance. Nope, not even for a hot second. His chest puffs up like a rooster about to crow as he growls, "No, no. What did you call me?" I cough, brain scrambling for an escape hatch. "Uh, I said, Mr. Blonde Head!" I lie through my teeth, praying he'll swallow it like a greedy bass at a fishing derby. This guy, bless his heart, looks utterly baffled as he stares at his reflection in a shiny bottle behind the bar, running a hand over his smooth scalp. "But… I'm not a blonde," he points out, his brow scrunched u
SNOW WHITE And The Supernaturals Of SHADOWVALE Chapter 3 ~Vivaldi~
SO HERE I AM, FEELING like the cat that got the cream as I lap up the rich, honey-like blood. My serpentine tongue savors every sweet drop, like it's the nectar of the gods. I can't get enough, but eventually, the poor guy's body goes limp in my grasp, so I let him drop. His glassy eyes stare up at me, so I gently close them. I'm not a complete monster, you know? I let out a long, satisfied breath, then hop up onto the bar counter, my gaze sweeping over the rows of glittering bottles. So many choices! I can't decide which one to go for, so I do a little “eeny meeny miny moe” until my fingers land on a fancy-looking bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Aha!” I exclaim. The thick, curvaceous glass and the swirly pattern on the label catch my eye, so I figure, Why the heck not? I grab the bottle, jump back down to the ground, and crack it open. As I take a long, deep swig, the sweet, bubbly liquid dances on my tongue. I can't help but let out a contented sigh. “Next time, you won't argue with m
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