Wrath 6 Heaven

“I need to step out for a moment,” Nicolette said. She knew what she had done, and felt as though she would vomit any second. Running down the hall to the public restroom, hovering over the toilet, Nicolette threw up for the first time. As a child, she was never sick. The main reason was that she was never allowed to attend public school or spend time with others. Arison made her a recluse, and she knew no other life other than the one he offered her. It was his way of keeping what was his all to himself. Slowly she realized that she was property, not loved.

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Wrath 5 Thanatos and Grace

Walking in from the small coffee shop downstairs, Gypsy was relieved to see her cousin sitting there with Grace. Her stomach was in knots since the fever spiked, but the doctors assured her it wasn’t the virus that swept the world. It was worse because none had a clue of what ravaged this little girl’s bloodstream. For the first time since the kidnapping, she was scared. Grace was learning to walk and talk, but she made sure nothing was accessible. Her home babyproofed by a professional. There was no reason for her to be sick.

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Wrath – 4

“NICOLETTE GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW,” Arison screamed.

“Caio, Arison. Do not follow me,” she said. As Nicolette walked out, she noticed a faint smell of smoke in the air. The emergency workers still swarmed the Vatican, as the crowd cheered when they brought out the Pope. He was alive because of her, but if Thanatos had not shown his face, she would have allowed the man to burn inside the walls. In her mind, the Catholic church was the unholiest of places.

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Wrath ~ 2

Her words forced Arison to stumble back, lost deep in thought. Nicolette was always the perfect child, the grateful teen, and the silent young lady. Today, she was what he feared the most. She had transformed into the woman who one day would reign over hell without his approval. His father warned him one day this would come, but he never thought it was true. It was the ramblings of a frightened old man, or so he thought. Arison was sure his father had listened to this today and would question his son’s ability to care for such a diabolical being.

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Her name is Wrath

“No, I don’t think you fucking understand who and what that child is,” she screamed.

Nicolette took a few steps back, her face distorted with anger. Arison explained that Grace and Gypsy were bound to her, and if they die, so does all of civilization as they knew it. The clock started the day she saved the young blond from her fate, and as each month passed, the world shook with an anger that he could not control. The gods above unleashed a fury on the world, and Nicolette was the one to blame. When a name’s written, date of birth and date of death added. She altered the world the moment she brought Gypsy back to life. The doomsday clock had started, and the virus that plagued the world was just the beginning of the world as they knew it.

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Part 28 – Spencer

investigation

Everyone is born for a reason. Some to lead, some to follow, but how does God choose? Nicolette’s birth horrific in its own right, why was she chosen to be the one to save someone as common as a whore? The product of a rape, surely anyone would have thought the one to save humanity would be someone pure of heart. Why the daughter of a soiled Nun, or the bastard child of a pedophilic Priest?

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Collection of Sins ~Nicolette

Pacing the floor, the small brunette knew it was coming. She could feel the heat burning inside of her. She was 19, and it was long overdue. His promise still unfulfilled, she grew tiresome of waiting. What would happen if she took matters into her own hands and destroyed herself on her own? Would he even know? Of course not. How could he when all he did was make a promise he would never keep. Unknown to her, he was waiting till she was ready to receive the power that would be bestowed upon her.

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Nicolette ~ A little taste

The place was a dive. A little shithole on Hollywood and Vine that the tourists would never see. Living in California is nothing like Hollywood projects on the big screen. Everyone doesn’t have a pool in the backyard, and no movie stars are walking up and down the streets. It’s filthy, and poverty liters these streets. Italy was a world away, and being sent to live among the /common/ people would take some adjustment.

On a street corner in the middle of hell, that neon sign from the bar blinked repeatedly as a beacon for the lonely. Was she lonely? Perhaps she was. He promised that he would take her. A promise he never kept. For 18 years he told her that she would finally walk the world as who she was born to be, but in the end, he never lived up to his end of the deal. She would have to prove her worth to get her one desire. The transformation into the creature she was born to be.

Would tonight be the night where she could do it without forethought? Could that be the real test? She was sent to the states to deliver a package weeks ago, there was no return ticket. Nicolette had yet to earn that flight back home.

One push on the door, the first thing she noticed was the smell. Stale cigarettes, cheap liquor, and god awful perfume. It was coming from the whore in the corner. One deep inhale and she could track the one who seemed to wash the scent of dick from her body with the overuse of cheap dollar store fragrance. A few picked their heads up from the bar, looking at the woman who was not dressed for the likes of this place. Wearing a dress made of the most expensive Italian silk, stockings enveloped her legs like a second skin and those heels. She had stolen them off some dead bitch in a gas station bathroom. The major obstacle she had was her age. Thankfully for her, there was a street corner salesman with fake ID’s. She was now Monica Ames, 25-years-old. Along with the documents she arranged for a passport. Soon she would need to leave without being noticed, and no one wanted a woman named Monica.

The bartender wasn’t stupid. He knew the more he sold, the more he could skim out of the cash register. This week alone he took a couple hundred that he never earned. Letting the underage in was a goldmine. These teenagers come in, but to leave, they had to pay the price. Whether it was cash or sex, they did anything to not have their parents alerted to their substance abuse problems.

“We both know you shouldn’t be in here. What do you want?” he asked. Chuck, or so they called him, stood there drying glasses with an old towel that had seen better days. Dingy and stained, no one complained that he was rubbing more dirt on then taking off. No one cared as long as the liquid ran down their throats. The world as we know it is changing daily. Colder by the moment, and this isn’t something we can blame on global warming. It’s all to do with the impending doom that will eventually walk the earth. Her day was coming, and yet none knew about it.

“Bourbon on the rocks,” ordering, she never looked at the man. No need to. In 5 minutes she wouldn’t remember who he was, let alone what he looked like. All he would be was a stain on the wall, and another victim on her urgency to feed.

“Suck my dick in the alley and we tell no one about you coming here and disturbing my fine clientele. The cops will be worse on you than I ever could. 5 minutes or I drop the dime,” grinning, the man tossed the towel on the counter, walking out before her.

Pushing the male against the wall, did he think asking her to come to the alley was wise?

“Ah Papi, you aren’t too bright, are you?” asking, the young girl held him to the wall, one hand on his chest was all it took.

“Blow me, bitch,” his voice slurring as he spoke.

Laughing, her voice echoed down the alley. No one would come. No one cared about a man screaming in an alley. Most would assume he was getting fucked and enjoying the ride. Sadly for him, it would be his last.

“Now is that how you speak to a lady?” she asked.

“All I see is some little cock tease who wasted my time,” his words barely a grunt.

The more the male spoke, the deeper she forced her nails into his chest. At first, it was erotic. A little pain can intoxicate a person. His idiotic personality was growing by the second. Inhaling deeply, her eyes shut to tune him out, but she never allowed him to move from the wall.

“Let me fucking go! How the fuck can you keep me here,” his orbs searched her face, confused. “Monica, that’s your name, right?” the male asked. “How about you skip your happy little ass back to the playground and let me go finish work?” he laughed, thinking that he would intimidate her because of her age.

Smirking, she dropped to her knees in the alley, looking up with eyes of a timid doe. Right away his demeanor changed. Back was the confidence and gone the shrill to his voice with she held him to the cement wall.

“You want me to take care of this?” she asked, her small fist stroking him through his pants. She could feel the beat of his heart as his dick swelled for her. “I can almost taste you!” salivating, a thin line of drool ran down her chin, giving him hope that she really was going to “blow him.”

Within a moment, he realized that not all head, was good head. Her mouth wrapped around the shaft, it only took one bite to do all of society a favor. Dripping from her chin, a waterfall of blood, she had removed both the cock and balls, leaving him with fair warning that not every woman should be fucked with.

She was getting closer to her goal, but would this prove she was ready?