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

The guard's sword lifted high, its blade catching the dim torchlight, a cruel gleam dancing along the sharp edge. The first girl whimpered, a strangled, broken sound that barely had time to escape before the sword came down.

Her head hit the cold stone floor, rolling slightly before coming to a stop, lifeless eyes staring into the void. Blood pooled quickly, seeping into the cracks of the ground, its rich crimson stark against the pale marble. The two remaining maids gasped, their bodies locking in sheer terror, hands trembling in their laps as they tried to stifle their sobs.

King Alfenzo didn't flinch. He merely removed his gloves one finger at a time, his expression unreadable.

He crouched before the second girl, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. "Not a single drop of elven grace in you," he muttered, almost bored. "Such a shame."

The second maid choked on a sob. "P-please, Your Majesty—"

Exposed and Fragile