twenty four

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR;should've stayed home

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR;
should've stayed home.


A RAGING FIRE STROKES THE CORE OF HER DETERMINATION. Each step is lightweight and effortless, a steady trot forward. No turns, no distractions. Amala walks, eyes trained on the same backpack. She walks, and walks, and walks until the blasting lights of Czech Republic drown her senses clean.

She inhales the outside smell; various foods and odors make for an odd combination. It seems as though The Carnival of Lights is in full motion. Around her, people dressed in exotic outfits promenade the now vibrant streets. Some carry colorful fans, some carry glow sticks the size of a baguette, others carry giant mascots on their shoulders.

A strike of envy hits Amala square in the face; this could have been them, had Mr. Harrington had a backbone and declined the opera.

Shaking her head, Amala studies her next move. Somewhere along her journey away from the auditorium, she'd lost Peter. At first, Amala had clear eyes on him. Following him through every turn and hallway he took, she made sure her steps were lined up with his to avoid drawing noise (which proved difficult once her heels hit the marble floors). Despite any issues, she was doing great and tailing him until... she wasn't.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone. It took her completely by surprise. One moment, he was in front of her. The next, he wasn't. Amala was left baffled and borderline in hysterics. How does someone disappear from right in front of you?

That's how she got here, to the bustling streets of Prague.

Annoyed, Amala looks around.

It's not safe to be walking the streets of a foreign country alone. It's not safe to be walking the streets of a foreign country as a girl. Quiet anxiety flutters in her stomach; she should go back.

Yep, I should go back, she confirms, suddenly overwhelmed with all the people around her.

Amala turns on her heels, making a beeline for the hotel (which is just several meters away).

That's what she sets to do until something akin to smoke catches her eye.

Turning around, Amala examines a nearby fountain. Detailed beautiful in silver metal, water sprouts from its top. It flows into its basin, creating a calming noise. However, something odd is happening. Amala doesn't recall vapor being a product of water lapping against itself.

It starts off as a subtle, almost unnoticeable puff of smoke. Soon, it quickly transforms into a large cloud of steam that fully drowns everyone in its vicinity in a cloud of gray.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | Peter ParkerWhere stories live. Discover now