SCYTHE

16.𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅

I was his prey.

And he liked to barricade me in the corner, leaving me with no way out. To see me be frightened.

He did not have to touch me for me to experience the terror. My trembling body was hard to keep steady. His aura, darker than a crow's feather, enveloped us like a whirlwind. All you could see was a gray mist swirling like sand, sharp and crystallized.

This was what I imagined hell to look like.

The Angel of Death is a creature of darkness who manipulates your mind and perception to the point of madness. Until you don't know what's real and what's not.

He was my death.

Death peered his crimson-red eyes, which I saw for the first time, at me. He was outraged because he couldn't just grab me and take me wherever he pleased. My pendant was his first obstacle. He was holding his scythe in one hand so tightly that I thought he'd break it. I couldn't run past him, and the best idea for escape was to jump onto the counter and fall to the floor.

I took my chance and sprinted against the counter, jumping the highest I could. It was, thankfully, enough for me to sit on top of it. I swiftly slide from it and fall to the floor. In the process of falling, I ended up landing on my right arm, which was probably broken because I couldn't move it.

I scrunched up my face in agony. I clutched my arm tightly to ease the pain. However, it was hopeless.

I turned my face to detect Death, and of course, he was standing in front of me. He, for sure, thought how stupid I was, but I wanted to expand the space so I could get out of there easier. The sacrifice was my arm.

The Grim Reaper grabbed a chair next to him and threw it across the room with no strength. It hit the wall light. The light bulb shattered and scattered all over the floor. Death stared at the wreckage. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle and snapped his head at me.

"I can turn this bar upside down so that nothing will be left of it. Will your boss be happy when he sees it? What do you say?" He took a step forward and bent down. "You still need your job, kitty?"

"Are you threatening me?" I said in a high-pitched voice.

"Did it sound thoughtful to you?" He mocked.

I pushed myself up to sit down to look less intimidated by him. My brows drew together. "Don't you dare..." I sneered.

"I will dare." He whispered.

At that moment, the door burst open, and I caught sight of honey-blond hair immediately. The knot in my stomach was gone. Rowan looked at me worriedly, but then he quickly smiled before he spread his wings and smacked Death against his back. He flew across the whole room, right onto the chairs and tables.

Rowan looked out of breath. He must have flew here because of me. Despite having his wings out and wearing a suit, he looked divine. Like a god itself to me.

He hurried to me, helping me get onto my feet. I grabbed onto his suit firmly, like my life depended on it. He analyzed my face and body. "Are you hurt?" He asked, and his jaw tightened.

I was fighting back tears. "My arm." I cried.

Rowan frowned, turning his head to Death, who now stood completely fine a few feet in front of us.

Death put his hand on his hip and spoke in a high voice, "I hope I'm not interrupting your intimate moment." His hand now held the scythe. "Be a good angel, and get your hands off my woman." His voice dropped low.