Writtenbyourstruly

The warehouse has this atrocious scent. It’s a mixture of a smell of a decaying body and dried blood. The whole warehouse has that smell. It can make anyone puke. She raised her hand holding a flashlight to shed light on the path she walking. The electricity blew out as soon as she entered. The whole place is in pitch darkness. “This is a fucking trap.” she thought. She knew it was a trap but her stupid chief thinks it’s not. “God, the smell.” she wanted to cover her nose but couldn’t she needed her other hand to hold a gun. She perked her right hear. She heard soft footsteps like it’s coming from behind her. Or is it?

She looked at the pair of scissors on the sink. She has been staring at it for the last 30 minutes now. She takes a glance at her reflection on the mirror and grimaced. Her long red hair lazily cascading down her shoulders up to her waist. It’s now or never. “So, Jenny what do you think?” she asks. Now or never. She picks up the scissors and did like people won’t expect her to do. Soon, strands of hair starts to fall on the sink. She looks at it and bit her lips. “No turning back now.” she then looks at the mirror and said, “Goodbye long hair.”

Hello November. Hello NaNoWriMo 2018. This is just an introduction post of my entry novel for this month. My novel's name is

⧪⧪⧪⧪ Winston frowns at the papers he is reading. He has been investigating Anda’s mysterious girl for two months now. The investigation was quite slow since all they have is a sketch of the girl. No name or so whatever but Winston is not just an ordinary investigator. He is damn good one. “So serious in the morning Win.” Winston looks up the person who said to him. It is Markle holding two hot cups of coffee. Markle is his partner and also his lover. The black haired man hands him one of the steaming cup saying, “Is that the mysterious girl we’ve been looking into during the sidelines?”

⧪⧪⧪⧪ She is looking at a mirror as if she is trying to check if her make-up is still on point but in fact she was lost in her own thoughts. She eventually snapped out of her thinking and decides to take a walk. She straightens out her black pencil skirt as she steps out of her office. People are bustling around. The company is launching new game software so everybody is extremely busy. In fact, some of them have spent sleeping in the office. She too, had to spend the night in the other day just to finish helping the visual presentation committee.

He has long forgotten how old he is or what is his real name. He only knows one thing and that he is a fallen angel. He can’t remember why he became one. He tried remembering but to no avail. It does not matter now. It has been like that for the longest time. His pristine white wings beat in the air as he lands his feet to the ground. White. He is the only fallen angel who has white wings. All fallen angels have black wings. Black; like the darkness of the night, like their former souls corrupted by sins and the nothingness of space. “Hello there Nox. How was your patrol?” Midnight, a bald-headed, dark-skinned fallen angel asked him. Nox runs his hand on his chestnut colored hair saying, “The usual.” “How many lost souls did you reap?” Midnight inquired. “About 30″ Nox answered.