Curtains of Will [Mystery-Love Tale]

Chapter 1-Never Learn My Time

"Fuck."

His eyes widened in shock at the sight of his hand. Thick, red liquid had dropped from his mouth, making a large pool on the palm of his left. He was unable to comprehend what happened and how his blood had suddenly spluttered without any reasons. But, that was until he began to feel a slight pain on his stomach.

Reaching the hem of his white dress shirt, he noticed pints of blood also soaked on the fabric. He was frightened from what he saw; his stomach had scattered more liquid. Although it was slow, it even made the pain more stronger. And when he noticed the cause of his injury, he placed his other hand on the hole, making him grunt.

"What the..." He trailed off, unexpectedly his legs kneeling down.

How the Hell did he get this? He didn't know. But when he looked up, his question was answered. Answered by Lucifer Himself, who stood in front of the injured man.

His heart beat faster and adrenaline shook him as he tried to stand up, but failed when his legs went against him. There was no way he wanted to encounter that person, nor even meet their gaze. They could be that only human being he only feared for his dear life. And now, here he was, meeting their cruelness again.

Trying to courage himself again, he felt another pain. But this time, it was on his back, right across the pain on the front. It was useless for him to run away now, let alone holding himself up.

Instead, the only option he could do was face that person, which he did. He didn't know what or who to be alarmed of. It was either the wicked pang or the person; he had chosen the latter.

"P-please," the man stuttered, trying to step back away from him using his hands. "Like I said, I-I know nothing of such informations of her! I swear—"

But he was cut off when he was brutally kicked on the chin, sending him a few feet away. Despite his large size contrasted from the other, it still made felt like he really flew. He didn't even get another to explain nor move, before he was shoved again. Though, it was more rougher.

His eyes gazing on the other one, who took out a scissor from the back of their pocket. It was no doubt they were going to use this to help them cut his clothes off and may use it as a torture tool. He heard the slash of metal colliding each other as it torn apart the soft fabric, from the edge of his blooded textile to the region of his neck.

Looking at his bare upper body, he noticed that the blood had stopped soaking, leaving a few dried liquids sticking to his skin. Although it stopped bleeding, he still couldn't make a stir, due to the person weighing on down of him.

"Do you know why I'm holding this?" The unknown person suddenly asked. They brought out another scissor, but it was smaller, about half the size of the other one. It clanged to each other's blades as the person moved it close to the man's face, poking the sharp tip on his nose.

He, however, didn't answer, much to the other's dismay. The person mentally frowned; they didn't like it when they weren't answered. And the man didn't help them, either.

"Alright," they sighed, glancing at his chest. "It's been quite long, since I've had fun."

The man gulped, even more frightened when he heard the word 'fun'. He didn't know what kind of game he was going to be played, but by the looks of their situation, he was expecting of meeting death. How right he was. But this death was going to be very slow, he thought.