Rain poured down shamelessly as the cold Winters breeze nipped at your nose as you made your way home. Sure, Holten was a small, quiet village but it was as homely as it got. a car honks behind you and, not hesitating, you whip your head around- eyes ready to bore into someone’s soul.

“Need a ride, doll-face?” Atlas Hunter, local bad boy from your high school (St. louis’ high school), gave you a devilish grin from inside his car, winding the window down as his car slowed.