Prologue
A burst of neon lights flash in her path…expertly hitting the target they were cast upon, either ending the victim's life or forever damaging it.
She runs, sweat spilling down her wounded cheek. Her dark blood oozing from her temple. Yet she still runs, through the tears of pain and anger, the screams of horror.
She runs not only for her life and future but for the innocent lives that are lost…for those who have died so darkness can't prevail and reign.
She gazes into the eyes of the…enemy?
If they are the eyes of the enemy, why are they the familiar emerald green of her best friend? The eyes that that once sparkled with laughter and delight are now dulled bloodshot with hatred
and fury.
A second glance proves that the enemy's eyes aren't emerald. They are glassy dark brown, much darker than what she remembers. These eyes scare her.
A fear she has never known before consumes her, a fear of herself. Shock sets in and she tries to convince herself that the sharp lines of the grimy face can't be hers. But deep down she knows they are, and
self loathing takes place of the shock and the fear of herself quickly fades to pure hate.
Her tight fist slams into the mirror on an impulse of rage. She doesn't worry about her torn and bleeding knuckles, as the glass shatters around her and falls to her feet in a pile of sickly sparkling shards.
Instead, she glares at the fractured mirror, still seeing those burning earthen eyes staring back at her, taunting.
A single tear drops from her eye. This can't be true….it can't be! When did this happen? Since when were the eyes of the enemy HERS?