Across the

drug bust gone wrong. These young adults were no strangers to the perfidy of the spotlight. They were the offspring of high-profil

e first-generation American with striking blonde hair and exquisite fashion sense. With his athletic stardom and academic excellence, no one would ever

nette for a long time hid behind her plain-Jane facade. She was a clandestine personality, constantly manipulating everyone around her, as evinced by her use of her mother's fame

did not match the crime. Unlike her fellow L-gunners, she was innocent of any serious offense but had just fallen prey to the "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. Her ex-lover, Emma Blacque, was lying in her arms for several hours when the police busted onto the scene. When they found the two women, Amyra was cloaked with Em's blood, crying over the battered corpse of her lifeless girlfriend as she bled out. Hours that pol

and promising expectations. Although they were not as influential as the 'Trum

o was directly behind her, sitting alongside her close friend, Council President Romena Kline, t

ive destinies. They had too much to offer to be amidst the detritivores of society, not to mention the horrors facing them in prison, as

xed on the accused. Upon seating, the room became dreadfully quiet, as sounds from the outside media speaking of the "HILLSIDE SLAUGHTER 3 VERDICT READING IS NOW COMMENCING" started to creep in. Post

r District Attorney, trying to make a name for herself. Back then, she brokered deals with gangsters and criminals to game the system. To jump-start

see for sure that the Moore's paid dearly for everything that had happened to the Blacque family. All over the news, the infamous Reverend Blacque joined forces with other militant-religious Afro-America

s, someone powerful. Bu

olved." His sights were fixed on Amyra; not because he believed she was responsible. but because he knew Em told Amyra a little secret. A secret about a father and daughter that should never have happened, ever. Ei

ted faces in the room, she noticed a different glaring coming from the court's back. In the ominous section of the last row, an elderly, lavish dressed gentleman kept his steely eyes fixed in her direction. His dapper clothes were striking, and he was leaning on a

ence about her was inconclusive, as she was incapacitated that night, and there was no murder weapon. Everything was going to be okay, she thought.. Then the jury's verdict was in;

baby, hugging her lovingly, even

there, awaiting the complete

g up to leave but turning back once more to see her again and still with the same calming smile. The only sen

entire courtroom like an explosion. The throng stood up, praising the judge and jury in grati

oticed that she was brought to a

t went wrong with her case? Gui

rs, arguing amongst themselves. As she leaned closer to the door, she overheard that both Fi

husband mechanically, mutely crying as she marched firmly in his shadow. Feeling the fear and pressure cave in, Ducque tried to escape by fighting off two officers then running down the stairwell. However, his efforts ended tragically when he was gunned down near an emergency window. His mother heard the news and t

Ducque's life as if he was the summary of his crime. They had known each other for almost a decade; he was like a brother to her. They were both only children and bonded in boarding school quite quickly, especially when families

ewarning her; "Just remember, you have to be willing to pay a price. The Baron doesn't work for free." With the dark rosary wholly wrapped around her hand, she spoke the ancient words, whilst hearing the analog clock behind her, ticking, tardily... seconds seemed to tire down. Then the crucifix pricked her thumb hard. "Ouch!" she said. What the fuck, she thought, quickly o

he did it. It's time to go h

Greene and her mother were friends since her mom interned as his council aid when he was the mayor. Since then, the two had always been close; to such, rumors of an affair surfaced, causing Greene's first wif

rs, she rolled her eyes in contempt to

ank you enough. Give Soph my love, w

y, mother? You know he's just goin

she grabbed her by the neck, villainously, yelling, "Do you have any idea the strings I had to pull just to keep

any idea what this cost me? I've had it w

to fuck the Devil himself, you'll do so happily. There is no mercy for where you'r

d to say, "I'm sorry, Mother.

ing any of it, "Sorry won't do this time. You

tantly set in, suffocating her to suicidal desires again. She desperately wanted out of this life. As the chauffeur drov