New Violate story I am starting to write!
Of course, similar to all my other stories- this one will be very dark, so there is a warning for younger readers. I hope you enjoy reading, and please review!
Plot: Violet is 16, alive, and living in Los Angeles. She has been invited to have one of the best nights of her life- a huge, raging concert performing at one of the biggest venues in town. However, soon she wakes up, being held captive by three overpowering teenagers- though one wishes to help her escape.
Prologue:
"Violet," he whispered. I listened to his words as if they were the only thing that mattered anymore. Being stuck in this room had given me a love for such little, meaningless things. However, I was almost positive that he was going to begin telling me, in descriptive detail, how they planned to be successfully murder me. There was an endless list of ideas. Would Michael drown me in the strange looking tub? Would Beau tie a noose around my neck, and hang me from the ceiling? I cringed at the possibilities.
"Please. Please just let me go-" I had finally resulted to begging. My strength was fading from little to nothing. All I could concentrate on was the hunger in my stomach, and the tears raging a war behind my eyelids.
"I'm trying," he said, sighing slowly, "I thought that this was what I wanted, but it's not. You shouldn't be here."
I felt like I was frozen in place. Looking up on him, it was clear that this was not just a game to mess with my fragile state. He appeared to be telling the truth.
"Then just let me go. Get me out of here," I spoke. My voice cracked.
"It's not that easy. Michael will kill both of us. He's really crazy, Vi, he's bloodthirsty," the boy continued. I was watching him like a hawk. His curly blonde hair kept getting into his eyes, and the blood underneath his lip had dried up.
"Don't call me Vi," I demanded. An irrational thing to comment on, but the words just flowed from my mouth.
"Why not?"
"Because you're part of the reason I'm here, and you're talking to me like we're friends. I don't even know your name."
His face took on a very serious look. Those dark eyes became narrow, and his features turned stern. I could tell that something tense was going through him.
"My name is Tate. Tate Langdon. Michael is my brother."
