OSM_1015

[Mature content. No rape]
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"Mr. Archer!" She hurried her footsteps after the cop, who seemed to have already memorized the way out of the small two-story house.

"It's Adrien, not Archer," he said, not bothering to turn around and look at her as he turned the door knob.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "We need to talk, " she said, following him out of the house and closing the door behind her.

"I had enough time to spend with a dunderhead like you," she heard him say, and she fumed.

"How dare you?!" She fisted her palm furiously as she saw him walk past the little gate. "You son of a chameleon!"....

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In a world where mythical creatures like werewolves, vampires, and elves exist alongside humans, a long-standing war has left humans living in fear and captivity. Elves, once thriving, have become extinct due to the ongoing conflict. Alicia, the last surviving elf, is raised by Mrs. Anderson, whom she believes to be her biological mother.

However, when Alicia confronts a man named Adrien, whom she calls Mr. Archer, tensions rise. Adrien's apparent disdain for Alicia triggers a fiery exchange. Unbeknownst to Alicia, her unique heritage as the last elf will soon become a central focus in a world where mythical beings and humans clash.

This story promises intrigue, conflict, and a journey of self-discovery for Alicia as she grapples with her identity and the ongoing strife between mythical creatures and humans.

Hunting Down the Last Elf

<p>A tinge of the morning hue peeked through the little gaps of the thick blind curtains that covered the rays of the morning sunshine shining with its all glory out at the dawn sky. The slight breeze sweeping past her had her murmur in her sleep and groan. She puffed her pillow and stretched her hands, roaming them over the soft surface of the bed that had her frown. She scrunched her face in irritation, not finding the blanket anywhere near.</p>

<p>In her half-awake condition, Alicia continued to feel uncomfortable as she tossed and turned, her injuries hurting her every time she moved. The soft, plush bed that was supposed to be a source of comfort was now a torturous reminder of her wounds. She yearned for the comforting embrace of sleep, but it eluded her, being replaced by the unrelenting torment. Yet, she continued to fetch her blanket in her groggy state, her eyes closed to the little brightness that reflected in the room.</p>

The Embrace