Prologue | The End?
DRE DIDN'T FEAR DEATH, EVEN THOUGH SHE KNEW SHE SHOULD. But who could fear death when death himself was like a god. Perfect, flawless hair, and jet black hair. An evil, malicious smile that was oh so captivating and held no sense of malice until behind closed doors. Eyes that were warm and comforting and yet so dark and lifeless.
Dre closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Remain calm. "Are you going to talk now?" Even his voice was comforting, though Dre could hear the demon in him. "We wouldn't want D.O to find you on the streets cold dead now would we? Just tell us what you know about Suho's organization, and we can pretend that this never happened."
Dre opened her eyes. Death was at eye level, holding a very shiny gun in his grip. He was crouched down, resting on one knee. His brought a finger up and hooked into under her chin. "I don't know anything." She whispered. He growled and shoved her back to the ground. Dre winced. She knew she was lying but he didn't. Truth was, Dre knew everything, even though she wished she didn't. She wasn't even supposed to be here. They didn't know that either. She wasn't who they wanted. She wasn't in love with D.O, but she had to protect her friends. She went along with it. But for how long? Even in the end, Death always knows. He ran his hand over his face groaning.
"I've given you multiple chances to tell me what I want to hear and you've blown them all." He raised the gun in her direction. "Any lasts words sweetheart?"
Dre pushed herself up, stumbling around in the darkness of the room. She stared at Death and Death stared at her. The only thing that separated them was a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Dre nodded, and took a step forward. "Yeah," she breathed. "Go to hell." She lunged forward and flicked the light off.
