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

In a dimly lit room, the flickering light of a single bulb cast eerie shadows against the cold, metal walls, creating a haunting atmosphere that seemed to permeate every corner. The air was heavy with the scent of rust and fear, a palpable tension that hung in the stillness like a suffocating fog.

In the center of the room, an iron bed stood as a grim centerpiece, its frame creaking under the weight of chains and shackles that held it in place. The sight of the bed sent a shiver down Alicia's spine, the metal glinting ominously in the dim light, a stark reminder of her captivity.

Standing over the bed, a man loomed, his presence imposing and menacing. His eyes gleamed with madness, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he surveyed his captive with a disturbing intensity. With each step he took, the floorboards groaned in protest, adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the room.

Rock-a-bye baby, In The Cold Iron Bed