phoenixhyperion

**READ ME**

THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION.

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My name? Lance Augustus
Age? 15
Nickname? Five. 
Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. 
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"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.
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They called me FIVE

I looked at Ava. The moon wasn't anywhere in the sky this evening. Only the stars, brimming and blinking faint lights. And the occasional whip of thin clouds spread across the atmosphere. The street lamp at the murky corner is shedding light in the alleyway.

I can roughly make out Ava's features. Especially her crimson eyes that seem to glint in this dark place. Its almost like, the eyeballs are patch with blood.

"Ava..you..what - what are you doing?" Her right cheek is dripping blood. Definitely from the two lifeless victim sprawled on the cold floor.

She didn't move. She didn't flinch when we just saw her kill. She didn't faze seeing our shocked faces. She didn't blink when I tripped on my butt and scampered to get away as possible.

Blood. Blood is all over the walls. Dripping, sopping, drenching the cold battered cement. The stench, the serrated flesh, it was too much for me to bear.

What's going on?