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Second part. Latvian Spanish stories. Empty of humans


The streets were empty of any humans. Only the looming shadows dared to be outside at night. Moon was shining so horribly bright but the light didn’t seem to reach the ground.
The deathly quiet night was disturbed by a door slamming. A figure darted out on the street. It ran as fast as it could.
The figure had a visible limp to their step. Blood trailed behind them.
There was a sudden bright light which startled the figure.
The light illuminated the pale boy’s face. His greenish-yellow eyes were wide with terror and his mouth was agape revealing his abnormally sharp teeth.
He was cradling his bleeding arm and if you looked closer, you could see the watercolor bruises peeking out from under his dirtied white gown.
There was shouting and the alarms started blaring.
That seemed to startle the boy as he quickly ran into an alleyway. He kept running until he spotted a dumpster.
He scrambled to hide behind it.
He held his breath and waited.
And waited.
When he couldn’t hear the shouts he finally allowed himself to relax. His head hung limply. Silent tears ran down his face leaving streaks on his bloody skin.
He was so tired.
So tired of this corrupted city. The city where people went to have a better life but ended up discarded by the government. This place is built on bodies. This year, 2130, was the worst. Nowadays, only the rich had a chance to survive. Quite literally.
He was one of those people. But now he had so many regrets of coming here.
He didn’t even remember his name.
He let out a bitter laugh at this thought.
How cruel of this city to take away his own name.
He sighed and stood up. His legs were aching and he could barely feel his wounded arm.
He had to keep going. He had no choice.


He  had to look for shelter before the cold became umberable, even thoguh with all the adrenaline pumping through his blood he didn`t feel it yet. He knew he needed to take care of his wounded arm, even if he did heal faster than humans it could still get infected.
He had just escaped the ”rehabilitation centre” for his kind, where he had been kept for a few days now.
 He laughed bitterly at that thought. Everybody knew that they didn`t rehabilitate anyone, they just conducted experiments on them to get who knows what, but it was just eassier to turn a blind eye.
He`d been lucky, and he knew that, not many were as lucky as him, they`d barely touched him, at least that he could remember, since they drugged him constantly. They hadn´t had enough time to do anything to bad to him yet. But he wasn`t stupid, he heard the screams through the walls of pure agony and the begging, until they could beraly even pronounce words anymore. He had one chance to get away while they were distracted and didn`t think twice before running for his escape. He only took one bullet to the arm that he knew he`d survive.


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Spanish members

Hi everyone! Spanish team, all the way from Fuenlabrada, Madrid.

Second part: Lavian Spanish. Yasuo

Once upon a time, there was a young teenager called Yasuo, who lived in sewers. He was only 15 and he had no family, so he learned to survive in the streets. What happened to his parents, nobody knew. But he became very strong, because living in the streets was not easy and he still needed to eat, drink and sleep. So he became a very good thief. He mostly lived his life by stealing from markets and not getting caught, because he was very fast and knew the best escape paths. But one time he got caught... He was convicted of continued theft and entry into California jail, one of the most dangerous in the United States.   When he arrived he was assigned a cell with a partner who did not seem very aggressive.   He asked him why he was there and told him some of his problems and gave him advice so he would not get involved in a lot of trouble. His name was Fred and he was 40 years old. At dinner time a boy who looked quite young was being beaten by a lot of people and Yasuo decided