The End Is The Beginning.

The names are all ideas from my friends, Boothy and Jess, and myself. If they resemble anyone it was unintentional and you're probably quite interesting.

Annalise lay on her bed, her mousey brown hair lay around her in a halo. She smiled to herself, tonight was amazing. Marjan had whirled her around the dance floor, his hand on her hip and his fingers intwined with hers. She sighed a happy sigh, her amber eyes shut and she hummed a happy melody. It was something he'd learnt from her grandmother, an old rhyme. 

Jack and Jill went up the hill... 

She kicked off her shoes and threw her legs in the air, her tights had a ladder in them. She put her finger in the hole and pulled it, there was a slight ripping sound. She giggled as the flesh coloured tights ripped from her knee to the top of her thigh. 
"Bed time, Miss Abellona." The maid said, popping her head around the door. Annalise smiled and chirped, 

"Okay. Could you help me out of this dress?" She stood up and slipped out of her ripped tights. The maid came over and pulled the threads apart. The dress fell into two halves. 
"Thank you." Annalise grinned. She pulled the covers back on her kingsize bed and picked up the clothes that were strewn underneath. The maid stood in the corner, her flesh outer casing hid the metal bones and gears that kept her moving.
"Dismissed." Annalise said while climbing into a pair of powder pink shorts. She picked up a purple vest top and dived into it. The maid was gone, following automatic orders no doubt. 

Annalise clambered into her oversized bed and wrapped the silver duvet around her. She was warm and tired, her eyes slid shut. She fell asleep in an instant, her dreams where of dancing with Marjan Ashok, her latest crush, and laughing with Jessica Aliquam, her best friend. She smiled in her dreams, a ghost of a smile played on the corners of her lips. 

Marjan Ashok walked into his father's study. He said nothing, but took his hands out of his pockets and straightened his black tie. His face showed no emotions, his eyes were stony and cold. He brushed his jet black hair out of his face and dropped his hands to his sides.

He looked at his father, an old man in the body of a young man. He was approaching seventy now, yet he looked only thirty something. His jet black hair was slicked back and his suit was pinstriped. He wore it well. 
"Marjan, sit down." His father waved at a seat across the table from him. Marjan sat down quietly. "I hear," his father paused, "that you are getting along with the Abellona girl, Annalise." 
Marjan nodded. As he did so images flooded to his mind, her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes glinted as they danced. Her voice filled his ears, her warmth as they danced filled him with delight. 
"You shall marry her." His father said quickly and coldly. "It is decided." 

Ellis Abellona sat in his office, he was tired. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the papers in front of him. The black print blurred into the white paper. Why did he even use papers any more, it would be easier to save it to hard drives and servers across the globe, but he didn't. He left it on paper because paper was easier to destroy. 

He stood up, no amount of coffee was going to get him through these accounts. He needed some sleep, he'd get back to them in the morning. His back ached as he stood up, he needed some implants or boosters to stop these silly aches. He was nearing fifty now, yet his face looked like that of a twenty year old. Implants and hormones had kept him young, as they had to everyone else that could afford them. 

He smiled to himself, soon it would be time for Annalise's wedding, that would be an occasion to get some boosters for, an excuse to look good. He pictured his daughter in a wedding dress, her hair in bows and her cheeks flushed red. He imagined walking her down the aisle towards the boy, Ashok's son. He had it all planned out. 

He should have looked where he was going, or at least what was in front of him, because in the next few seconds Ellis Abellona was left to die. All that remained of his killer was a small white stone left in his palm. On the stone a raven was carved, wings out stretched and beak open. The carving was unique, or at least almost unique. It was black and the stone had no feeling of the carving, only the picture.

It was the symbol of the Black Raven. It had struck again.