Now, imagine a deserted town in the desert. There's tumbleweed rolling around because of the wind, and two Cowboys are glaring at each other, ready to get their guns out. That's kind of what this is like, except neither of us are getting ready to fight. I'm just standing here awkwardly while mystery man won't take his eyes off of the ground. I'm contemplating on whether or not to get his attention when his head snaps up and he looks dead at me.
I feel a jolt of fear, but I conceal it with a poker face. When I notice his eyes, the fear quickly morphs into curiosity. Where there is supposed to be white, it's black. Two ruby red purples lie in the sea of black. It's as if the black accented the red, or vice versa.
I don't have anymore time to admire his eyes because he disappears, and in a flash he's in front of me. Up close, he towers over me. He's probably 6'1 to my 5'6. I notice the scar around his neck, as if his head had been chopped off and someone sewed it back on, though it looks more like a tattoo. Despite the demonic eyes and the dangerous aura he gives off, he's kinda cute, I think.
"So...do you want to have a friendly conversation," I ask. He glares in response. "Ok, I guess not. Uumm...a game of cards?" His gaze softens just a bit, and I plop down on the ground and start shuffling. When he hasn't made a move to sit, I ask, "Well? Are you going to sit, or do you plan on standing there all day?" He wordlessly lowers himself to the asphalt and continues to observe me as I shuffle.
"What do you want to play," I question him. When he doesn't respond, I continue. "There are a variety of games to chose from. There's President, ERS, Capital, War..."
"You aren't scared of me," he says suddenly. His voice surprises me. It's deep and soft, like a caress.
"Can you sing," I ask, excitement springing up out of nowhere.
"Why aren't you scared of me," he asks.
"Because you haven't given me a real reason to be. I can't judge someone just off of how they look. Wouldn't that be the same as judging a book by its cover?" I stop shuffling and look at him. He falls silent again. "Name the game."
"Garbage," he states. I grin and deal out ten cards.
"I'm Violet by the way," I tell him. He just stares at me blankly. I set the in the middle, a little off the side, and set my cards up so that its in two rows, five cards on each. He sets his cards up and I pick the first card. I switch my first card out with the ace and put the five in place of the fifth card. The queen goes takes the place of the tenth card, and that card, since it's a jack, goes beside the deck.
A little more into the game, he has 4 cards left; I have two. We stare each other down as I reach for the deck. I pick up my card and smile because I have a two. I flip the second card over and set the two down, then put the five beside the deck.
"Michael," he says before picking up another card. I stare at him, a little bit confused, until I realize that that's his name.
"Nice to meet you Michael," I say. He sets an ace in the pile of useless cards and I grin. I take the ace and flip my last card over.
"It's official," Michael says. "You're a cheater."
"That's impossible. There's no way I could cheat in a game like this," I tell him.
"You rigged the cards," he accuses. I hold my hands up in defense and shake my head no. He wants to say something else but the chains reappear on his hands along with the guards that escorted him in. "I want a rematch."
"Tomorrow," I say.
"No. Now," he demands. Two more guards appear and grab my arms. Their grip tightens and I yelp out in pain.
"That hurts," I say, and suddenly Michael's anger flares. The guards go flying in opposite directions, away from me.
"He's out of control," shouts one of the guards who is securing the chain. They pull back and take out their guns. I act before thinking and lunge towards him. Arms are wrapped around me, stopping me from getting in closer. I feel a quick pinch in my neck before the world starts spinning.
"What," I ask, but my voice is weak. I lose the ability to stand; I can feel myself slowly descending to the ground. What I don't notice is the guard who is supporting me. I look up at the guy, and though it's blurry, his face is very recognizable. Ren is smiling down at me in sympathy. I want to scream and curse at him, but my body won't let me. Why is he always there?!
Thankfully, Michael is screaming and cursing him out for me. But my time of being awake is running out. I steal one last look at Michael and attempt to smile before my eyelids fall shut. The last thing I hear before darkness steals me away is Michael shouting, "NO!"
