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It was a dark night, and the cries of owls and bats as they perched from tree to tree filled the air. The sky was void of stars and looked gloomy, like a woman in labor. Fear gripped the earth, and the earth being referred to was New York City.

Thunderstorms had been raging the city for two days non-stop and had killed over a hundred people who decided to step out while it wailed. Lucia sat still in her room, made of wood and sacks. Thoughts ran through her head as she listened to the loud, rumbling sound the thunder made. She remembered something so dear to her heart: the cruel manner in which her parents died.

She remembered it like it was yesterday. Her father was a strong werewolf, so strong that he could control people's minds just by staring at her, her mother, a witch. She was strong in her own way. A great battle broke out, and their survival rested on their shoulders. The responsibility of defending their town, Crimo, which was later renamed New York, fell on them.

They fought with a fierce spirit, but they were overpowered. It was a fight of witches, werewolves, and vampires against humans. It was a fierce battle, but the humans won. They had the weapons, and the witches, werewolves, and others had the magic, given to them by the devil. “You need to live, Lucia! Live! Live!" Those were her mother's last words to her before she died. It's been fourteen years, but it still echoed in her ears and sent chills down her spine. Her stomach rumbled as a thick, putrid smell hit her nose.

Her pupils darted around the room in search of what produced the foul smell. She saw it. It was her pet. Mufasa. That's its name. She was sad, as he was the only companion she had, but there was nothing she could do. It died of hunger. Three days went by, and she had tasted nothing but water.

There was work nowhere as a result of the thunderstorm. She got up, muttered some incoherent words, and the storm ceased. Fear gripped her as she tried to assimilate what just happened. “Did my prayer just get answered?" She shrieked in excitement and was stepping out when a tall man walked towards her.

Her gaze fell. Hades, so he was called. He is old enough to be her father but still sleeps with her without an iota of shame. Three years, counting, for a small morsel of food. He would thrust deep into her and then let himself get drowned in her honeypot. She hated it but had no choice. She had to survive, just like her mother told her. He was coming again with a devilish grin. She hated him and wanted to strangle him.

She could see his bulge. The bastard. He was sporting a bulge already and couldn't wait until he got to her. “Hi Lucia," he said, cupping her breast with his hand. He basked in the feel it provided his palm. “Let go of me," she warned, pushing his hand off her breast. He refused and instead applied more force to it. “I said you should let go of me," she roared, pushing him away.

He fell on his buttocks, and his face turned red with anger. “How dare you!" He said this when he stood up, and in response, he landed her two resounding slaps. She fell on her bug-infested bed, and with his index finger, he raised her dress. “Geez! I have told you to stop wearing pants," his lips twisted into a frown as he yanked it off. Tears trickled down her face. Hot tears.

But what business does that have with him? He fished out his penis from his stinking boxer and then positioned it at the entrance to her pussycat. She inhaled. “No!" She yelled as his dick thrust hard into her. He yells upon yells as he continues to thrust into her. “Oh, my goodness!” her voice echoed in the air as she jerked up. “It was a dream!" She was glad... There was no man to assault her anymore. It was all in the past. She stole a glance at the clock sitting lucidly on the bedside table. Six am.

She stood up and dashed into the bathroom at an alarming speed. She had a class by seven a.m. and couldn't afford to be late. Professor Chris. Hard, sadistic, and dangerous. Those three words described him in all their perfection. He was the most dreaded lecturer in school. She remembered how a student committed suicide after Professor Chris failed him for the fourth time. He had spent extra years at the school and, out of frustration, hung himself.

She was done in a jiffy and hurried out of the bathroom. Jackson would be there anytime soon, and she wouldn't like to keep him waiting. He was her best friend and the only friend she had in New York. Though she found him strange, He was a werewolf, and unlike their usual fright and avoidance, she was calm and relaxed with him. Take ten years from now, and that's when they'll be friends.

Speaking of the devil, she could hear his loud greetings that heralded his coming. He would greet every Dick and Harry. Phew! “Lucia!" His voice rang in the sky as he giggled. “I'm also done... I have told you on numerous occasions that you should stop shouting. I'm allergic to it," she said, and she was also shouting.

“See who's speaking? The queen of noise!" He chuckled, “I laugh in Spanish." Laughs hysterically. “Well, when you are in Rome, you do as the Romans do. Here, we don't shout, so you should learn to keep your voice down," she said as she wore her sneakers.

“Yes, your lordship," he said, giving her a mock bow that made her laugh. She was done in a few minutes, and after locking the door to her apartment, they giggled off. The road was filled with all manner of people as they hurried to get to work. There are thousands of them. The hustling and bustling in New York City were second to none.

Their feet swung across the tiled road, and the blaring of horns by cars and vehicles filled the air. Monday, it is. It was no different for the forty thousand students at New York University. Lucia and Jackson thronged along with the others, laughing as they went. “I heard from someone that there's to be a party tonight at the Crystal Hotel," Jackson said.