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A Story Of A Short Story

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I bask in the destruction as the symbols of the most powerful beings on Earth simply melt away. I shut my eyes and let the snow wash over my skin, arms outstretched. I open my eyes to Jensen chuckling. “What?” I ask.
“It feels good.”
“Amazing.”
The door suddenly bursts open as terrified scientists sprint in. They skid to a stop, eyes widen, as they take in the damage and us. Jensen and I exchange a look before two of the scientists charge us. Jensen swings the rod, hitting one of them, and I whip out my gun, firing two shots into the other.
Just scientists, no guards.
Meaning no alarms.
Yet.
I turn, just in time to watch Jensen raise the pole to a young woman with light green skin and golden curls.
Brielle.
I leap in front of him, catching the rod before it smashes into my head. The hatred in Jensen’s eyes is lightning in the air, crackling and tightening as he goes for Brielle. I pull the pole to the ground and shove him back. I keep my hands pressed against his chest, trying to hold him back. He doesn’t even look at me. Just at Brielle with a rage, I could never feel.
He doesn’t know the difference between demons and monsters.
Brielle’s not a monster.
She’s a person. A better person than I could ever be.
“Don’t,” I warn, shoving him again.
He doesn’t listen.
“Jensen, stop,” I shout.
He stills, eyes meeting mine. “She’s a demon.”
“She’s a good person. Let’s just go.”
He bites his lip as his jaw tenses. It’s as if the thought of a demon being a good person has never gone through his head. His hands grab my shoulders as if preparing to push me out of the way. His fingers dig into my skin when he releases me, breathing heavy. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I nod, keeping a hand on his arm as we race out of the room. I position myself the best I can to block Brielle from his view. I sneak an apologetic glance down at the demon girl and all I receive in return is horror.
She’s afraid of me and with good reason.
She probably hates me and there’s nothing I can do to change that.
The second, we’re sprinting down the hall, Jensen demands which way. I give a quiet gesture to the left and he partly leads the way. A third right and a fourth left later and that door to the outside enters my view. “That door, right there.”

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