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The Last Spade Master

Synopsis In the dim, desolate confines of an abandoned subway, a man stumbled, his grasp unsteady on a half-empty bottle of alcohol. His once-groomed appearance now betrayed by overgrown stubble and disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes bore the weight of endless tears. As he faltered, a jagged stone sliced across his forehead, drawing a trickle of blood. Yet, the physical pain paled in comparison to the anguish gripping his heart. Slumping against the cold, graffiti-stained walls, he gazed vacantly at the oppressive sky, tears silently tracing down his cheeks. With a heavy heart, he shut his eyes, only for fresh waves of despair to wrench anguished sobs from his chest. In a fit of anguish, he hurled the bottle, shattering it against the unforgiving concrete, mirroring the shattered pieces of his soul. A piercing scream shattered the silence, jolting him from his desolation. Instinctively, he stumbled toward the source, his vision blurred by the enveloping darkness. Guided by the cries, he pressed forward, his steps faltering but resolute. Each scream pierced the air like a dagger, leading him to a decrepit shed at the end of the subway. With a door already splintered, he entered, his gaze sweeping over the rusty remnants of forgotten machinery and discarded debris. A sickening squelch beneath his shoe drew his attention downward, revealing a pool of crimson staining the ground. His breath hitched, dread coursing through his veins as he followed the macabre trail, his heart pounding in his ears. And then, he beheld the horror before him, a scene so grotesque it froze him in terror. He retreated back with eyes full of fear before asking, "Wh... wh... what are you doing?". "Please… help me."

Angelic_demon · Urban
Not enough ratings
72 Chs

Spicy chilly and Fluffy Poodle

In a spacious and opulent study, Hardin reclined on the sofa with an air of calm authority. His gaze fixated on the ID card laid out before him, a laser-like intensity emanating from his narrowed eyes as they scanned the photo.

He had already delved into her background, a single sister to an eight year old child living with her sorry excuse of a drunkard father, a scholarship student studying sophomore year in graphic design at Troy University of Arts, working as a part timer in a local bar.

"Not bad. Noah, here I come", he murmured with a chilling smile, his lips curling into a predatory grin. With a swift motion, he pocketed her ID, a tangible reminder of the target he had set his sights on.

Noah finished her class, neatly organizing her belongings into her bag before shouldering it. Despite being a striking figure with her silky blonde curls, warm complexion, and stylish black-rimmed glasses, she maintained a reserved demeanor that kept most people at arm's length.

As she approached the entrance, a commotion caught her attention. A group of girls squealed with excitement while boys whispered amongst themselves, their gazes fixated on something ahead. Noah's eyes flickered towards the source of the excitement, noting the presence of a flashy and expensive olive Lamborghini Aventador parked prominently at the front.

Ignoring the cheers she walked past the crowd as she would not want to be late for her part time job.

Suddenly, a loud and cheerful voice called out her name, breaking through the noise of the crowd.

"Noah, sweety!"

Noah was stunned to the spot wondering which lunatic called her name with such endearment. When she turned to face the source of the voice, her shock only deepened as she locked eyes with the last person she expected to see, flashing her a wide grin.

Her initial shock quickly turned to irritation. "This pervert!" she muttered under her breath, her expression hardening.

Before she could make any attempt to escape, a long arm reached out and caught her wrist, bringing her to an abrupt stop.

"Leave me before I beat you," Noah warned him sharply, her tone laced with irritation.

"Ouch… is that how you thank your benefactor?" he teased, pouting as he playfully scratched her wrist.

Noah felt the weight of the curious gazes from those around them, and she knew she needed to diffuse the situation quickly. Without further hesitation, she grabbed the edge of his sleeve with her forefinger and thumb and dragged him away from the prying eyes of the crowd.

Hardin saw the tiny and skinny fingers of a girl who dragged him like a dead rat and scowled. She really did treat him like a pervert.

She exhaled deeply, "What do you want?"

"It's more like, don't you want…?" Hardin teased, arching his brows mischievously.

Confused, Noah watched as he retrieved an ID from his pocket and showed it to her. It was hers.

Noah wondered where she missed her ID. It seems somehow it ended up in this pervert's hand. When she tried to snatch her card he raised his hand above. She is not short but this pervert grew like a post pole which made it difficult to reach the height.

Frustrated, Noah shot him a glare, but he only chuckled in response, finding amusement in her predicament. Once again, he tucked the ID securely into his pants pocket, treating it like a prized possession.

Drawing closer to her, he caught her gaze with his own, his expression unreadable.

"With these bouncy blonde curls and big black eyes you look like a...." Hardin paused, furrowing his brows in thought. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he grinned.

"Yes, that's right. You look like a poodle," he said, offering her a sweet smile.

She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands hard which are very much itching to beat this man. She turned around to leave.

"Could you please let go of my hand?" she snapped at him.

"Wow…wow, fierce chilly," he remarked, raising his hand in surrender.

"I am sorry for beating you that day, and if you want, I will pay the compensation. Name your price," she offered, frustration evident in her voice.

He scoffed, "Are you sure? I am priceless," he boasted, wearing a proud expression on his face.

Noah gave him a vacant look.

"Ok, Ok, just give me your number," he said, extending his phone to her.

Noah looked at him and his phone, her expression hardening. "In your dreams," she spat, before turning to walk away.

Hardin smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then I will shout I am your sugar daddy at the entrance of your college," he called after her.

Noah gritted her teeth and reluctantly turned back, snatching his phone from him. With furious taps, she entered a string of numbers and shoved the phone back into his arms before angrily storming away.

Hardin glanced at his phone, a smirk playing on his lips as he saved the number under the name "Little Poodle." He already had her details from her birthdate to the size of her toenails, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to rile her up. Watching her seethe with anger brought immense joy to him.