FANGS OF DECEIT BOUNDED BY BLOOD AND LIES

Chapter 1: A Decision Made

Anna's POV

I dragged my weary legs across the hard marble floor, my already trembling hands clutching a bottle of cheap liquor.

The flashing disco lights from the club pierced through my eyes now and then, forcing me to squint and shut them repeatedly.

My eyes, bloodshot from too much drinking, burned beneath the weight of exhaustion. My deep brown hair was a tangled mess. I staggered through the crowded club, shoving aside anyone who stood in my way.

All I wanted was to get out-breathe in some fresh air. The place was packed to suffocation.

"Move!" I snapped, pushing a young woman standing in my path. She shot me a scornful glare as she stumbled to regain her balance.

"Get your drunk self out of here. I'm not the cause of your frustration," she hissed before walking away.

Drunk self.

Her words echoed in my head like a slap.

How pathetic. That I-Anna Stone-of all people, would be called that.

Once a well-composed woman who never stepped foot in a club, who looked down on people like this. And now? A drunken mess.

A stranger's disgusted voice had become my reflection.

I wasn't going to let that slide.

Without thinking, I spun around, eyes searching for her. I caught a glimpse of her outfit and shouted, "Say that one more time and-"

The lights flared again, blinding me mid-sentence.

"Gosh!" I muttered, shielding my eyes with one hand. "Am I your only target?" I grumbled to the lights, rubbing my stinging eyes.

When I looked back up, she was gone.

"Really?" I scoffed. "You're lucky. You would've seen who's truly pathetic."

Still mumbling under my breath, I staggered out of the club.

The moment the cool night air hit my face, I let out a shaky breath. Finally-outside.

I wanted to cry. To curse my life, my existence, every miserable thought that ever passed through my mind.

Why was my life such a mess? A constant stream of pain, like a polluted river of misfortune.

I dragged my feet to a long bench beneath a giant tree. Its leaves rustled softly, singing with the wind. A few fell, dancing to the ground.

I leaned back on the bench, letting my tired body sink into its wooden embrace as the breeze swept through my hair.

Raising the bottle, I took a long gulp, only for my throat to burn in protest. I gagged, coughing loudly.

"What else should I expect from a ruined life?" I chuckled bitterly.

I'd come here to drink away the pain-to lose myself in drunken bliss-but instead, the hurt only grew deeper.

They say alcohol brings happiness.

Then why am I still so miserable?

Why does this ache keep drilling into my chest like a curse refusing to let go?

I know I don't deserve happiness, not really. But don't I deserve something?

Even just a moment of peace?

Why has my life been filled with misery from the start?

Maybe... maybe I am a curse.

Maybe I was never meant to be here at all.

I felt the tickle of tears escape my eyes-uninvited, unstoppable. One tear followed another, and before I knew it, I was crying like a child. The pain in my heart was too much to bear, and the only escape I had left was to let it pour out through my tears.

My life? It's been a mess since the day I was born.

According to my father, my mother died giving birth to me. And from that moment, everything went downhill.

Our once-comfortable family life crumbled. We went broke. My siblings, who once attended the best schools in town, had to drop out.

Yes! They blamed me. Even as a six-year-old, I remember it all-being called a curse. The memory is sharp, untouched by time. It still feels like yesterday.

And the final blow? On my 10th birthday, my entire family was murdered.

Why was I spared? My father had sent me down the street to buy balloons for the decorations.

I remember skipping back home, humming my favorite tune. It was my birthday, and I was overjoyed.

But the moment I stepped through the door, everything changed.

Blood.

Bodies.

Silence.