The Three

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Principal's Office

In Samuel’s Eyes

I was in trouble.

Both my parents sat down at the brown, plush couch in front of my kindergartens’ principal’s desk. The room smelled of morning coffee, and the cool summer breeze entered through an open window.

I sneaked a glance at my mom. She’s eyeing the principal with a frown on her face. Dad was perched beside her, his cheek rested on his palm, looking bored out of his life.

They honestly look like they’re in a Mafia.

They both are wearing black. Mom wore a slick black dress and green pearl earrings. She has a full arm of tattoos, just like dad, who is wearing a full black suit, with some navy slacks, and a humungous green ring.

They do not look approachable.

“Mr. and Mrs. Enderson, we have so much to talk about.”

“Hm. Proceed.” Mom narrowed her eyes and put a protective hand on my chest as if any minute now the principal would leap out of her desk and amputate my head with a chainsaw.

“Well,” The principal said nervously. “Samuel has gotten into a fight, and we strictly prohibit any form of violence-”

“Who caused it?” Dad cut her off, almost dozing off. If she’d talk any longer, he would have fallen asleep.

“Um... The kid might have insulted Samuel which drove him into starting the fight with a punch.”

Dad opened his eyes.

“Did he win?” He asked, finally showing interest. His eyes were now alert, excited.

The principal looked so taken aback.

“Yes... but that’s not-” She said wearily.

Dad’s mouth crippled into a smile. He tried so hard not to laugh, hastily wriggling his grin around. Mom looked at him, trying not to smile as well, and discreetly tried to shush him.

She tried to block dad’s victory fist away from the principal’s view and smiled:

“We are so sorry, ma’am. We’ll talk to Sam. Never going to happen again.”

Dad gurgled with laughter and was mouthing ′Yessss’.

The principal looked like she was about to throw herself off a cliff after her shift.

“We should go. We will leave you be. Thank you.” Mom said and dragged us out of the room. I grinned from ear to ear and followed her out.

As soon as we exit the school gate, Dad picked me up and put me between his shoulders.

“Atta boy, Sam! The boy deserved it. You always have to defend yourself. If you let him be, he was going to hit you first.” He laughed.

Mom agreed, hooked her arm with Dad’s, and smiled. Dad grinned back. The three of us walked arm in arm and headed home.

I think that was the last time he was proud of me. And I want to change that.

~

I suddenly woke up with the biggest headache I’ve ever had.

Mother trucker dude.

The last thing I remember is me getting stung by a needle and smashing my head into the ground.

I think I was knocked out when I dreamt of that day at kindergarten with my parents. That made me realize how badly I want to win my dad over.

And how badly I want to kill Trace.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to look for my surroundings.

I...

I’m in an evil lair.

The walls were packed, and I mean packed with every kind of weapon you could think of. From guns and rifles to nunchakus and Viking hammers. Each weapon was carefully placed on their specific positions.

A bit far away from where I was sitting, a huge black couch was perched in the corner, and the biggest TV was in front of it.

Ha. I reckon were in the living room.

In the heat of the moment, I almost forgot about the walking weapon I kidnapped as a partner.

Goldie.

She was sitting beside me, still unconscious. Her face was so relaxed and peaceful, the usual frown and furrowed eyebrows were nowhere to be seen. Her brown hair was in her face, and I bit the urge to brush it away.

I tried to shake her up to wake her but soon realized that my hands were tied tightly with ropes. So was hers.

Great.

After about five minutes of trying to get rid of the ropes, my hands got bruised and I couldn’t feel them anymore.

“You’re finally awake, Enderson.” A raspy voice sneered behind me.

There he was. The person I’ve been tracking for the last few days. The person who will be the ticket to finally make things right with my dad.

Somehow, at just the sight of him, something exploded in my brain and I felt such immense power running through my blood vessels. My brows furrowed. It’s happening again.

This is the feeling I always felt when I get too hyped-up during practice fights in the agency. This is the feeling Goldie, to my surprise, is sharing with me.

This is the feeling that, without it, I would have been dead a long time ago.

I can feel myself getting stronger by the second. My confidence is getting bigger and bigger.

The ropes that I was struggling to get out of earlier were now so easy to rip. I just flicked my wrist, and my hands were free.

Trace eyes me skeptically.

Oh, yeah.

I am ready.



In Marigold’s Eyes

My head.

My poor, poor head.

It has gone through some real crap ever since I’ve been with Samuel.

In a span of three hours, I have gotten kidnapped, threatened, almost shot at, and kidnapped once again by an idiot who thinks wearing a cape would make him look scary.

And I have been on this mission for half a day.

I groan in pain, clutching my forehead and ignoring my rapid heartbeats. Finally opening my eyes, I found myself leaning on a dark wall at the end of a weird-looking room filled with weapons from ceiling to floor.

My hands are clasped shut with ropes, and it started to hurt like a mother.

My eyes locked on a ginger head’s back as if he’s protecting me, facing a smirking evil murderer with piercing blood-red eyes.

Samuel and Trace.

Trace’s expression was unreadable. “You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you.” He said, his hand flickered then glowed fire-red, ready for attack.

“You seem a decent fellow, I hate to die,” Samuel replied and got into position. He raised his fists up to his face and bent his knees.

They shot forward at each other at lightning speed, each one stronger than the other. It was as if bolts of energy sizzled inside of them, screaming to get out. I can almost see the tiniest smirks on their faces. They were excited. They both wanted to know how much power they held in their hands.

Then all hell broke loose.

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