The Ripper's Broken Heart

Prologue

There were two kinds of people: those who would kill for fun, and those who wouldn't kill at all. I would fall in the latter category, and for the longest time period, I thought Levi Russell was the same.

Although he wasn't- and he proved it insanely. He had come over once, holding flowers and presenting them to me gingerly. It wasn't his usual routine- at all.

"Here," he had said, shoving the flowers into my hands and muttering something incoherently.

"What? I can't hear you?" I stepped closer to him and sniffed the flowers, smiling.

He took a deep breath. "I'm part of a bike gang. You know, that one gang."

I wouldn't have broken up with him if he had just been in a bike gang. It wouldn't have mattered to me. Levi's gang, however, was the one and only The Angels of Death. He was the vice-president.

I'm pretty sure the flowers in my hands could have wilted in my hands from surprise, and I was extremely pissed. My life had been put in extreme danger for the entire last year, and he didn't even consider it.

I smiled maniacally, pulling the petals off of the stems slowly, and dropping them on to the floor. Levi watched, cringing. I shoved the bare stems back in his hands, steadying my hands on the door.

"Out," I had ordered.

"Estella, please I-"

"Out."

"I'm incredibly sorry, Estella. I'm so sorry for everything!"

"I'm incredibly sorry you were born- but we all make mistakes. Even the condom factory. Now, out."

I didn't need to tell him again, because the dropped the flowers onto my doormat, and walked away from the small building he had been accustomed to visit so often. I sighed, moved away from the door and flopping down on my couch.

He could go find someone else to play Truth or Death with, because I wasn't falling for him anymore. I had to move on.

Three weeks after our breakup, I returned (from work) to find my apartment completely shredded- the couch was slashed, the windows were shattered, and my laptop was gone. Those were only the beginning of a long war.

On my wall, five letters were planted with green, oozing ink that made the word almost impossible to read.

D. E. A. T. H.

Death.

I'm taking a risk and making another romance story. It won't all revolve around death, I promise. Although it does sound tempting..

Thanks for giving this story a shot!
~Rebecca