Chapter One (from the perspective of Adara)

    “Where are you going, Adara?”

I felt my friend’s hand on my shoulder.

                “Home, Tina. I shouldn’t be here.”

                The music pumped through the bar’s entrance door. Tina stood a little unbalanced; she drank a lot when she had time to get out. Her long, red hair smelled of too much perfume and her maroon lipstick was slightly smeared from making out with ‘the guy of the night’.

                “Oh, come on, Addie! L-l-live a little!”

                My brown hair swished in front of my granite eyes.

                “I danced. That’s enough for me tonight. I am going home before it gets too late and before my mind gets too fuzzy.”

                Tina laughed hysterically.

                “You are so-o funny!! All stern and stuf-f-f.”

                She tripped and crashed into the front wall of the bar; my eyes drooped in annoyance.

                “Come on, Tina. Let us get you home before you kill yourself or cause trouble.”

                Dazed and intoxicated, Tina hooked herself around my left shoulder and we stumbled back to my old Honda.

                “Ca-can we stop for some water? My throat is parcheddd--parchched...”

                Tina crashed onto the leather set, with her eyelashes blinking and blinking.

                “I will go get you some from the bar. Here are the keys to lock the doors and play some music if you want.”

                Her brown eyes began to shiver behind almost-closed eyelids. I sighed and turned her head to the side, just in case of any puke. I took off one of my keys that opened the door manually from the outside; it had a mini industrial gasmask painted on it. I put the rest of the keys in Tina’s lap and I locked the car doors manually from the inside.

                The bar is not too far…

                A long field of black pavement with very dim lights lied between the bar and me. The parking lot was piled high with tons of automobiles of all shapes and sizes. Midnight Red was a very popular and local, rave bar.

                With turning in 360 circles now and then, I quickly hastened to the entrance door. The only people I saw was a Hippie-Emo couple making out in a truck. I entered Midnight Red with industrial metal blasting into my ears.

                “I.D. please.”

                Though he saw me before, the bulky security guard checked my license again. He returned my license, along with a gentle elbowing of me into the dance room. My mouth blew out some air through my teeth in annoyance.

Red lights spotted across the wooden, rose-glazed floor of Midnight Red. Hidden black quarters and coaches with red velvet canopies decorated the sides of the room. Circular stages of strawberry carpet, steel cages, and stripper poles were filled with exotic dancers; both male and female, most of them wore some sort of Gothic fetish clothing. Individuals of all sorts, both Gothic fashion and other modern styles, partied through the whole building: some making out, some having ‘clothes-on’ sex, some watching or whistling at strippers, some getting helplessly drunk, some just ‘dancing the night away’, etc etc.  

                “Care for a drink?”

                A Bat-cave dressed man stood before me with piercings dotting almost every inch of his face.

                “No, thank you. I will only be here briefly.”

                The man shrugged and went to the next ‘free’ girl he could find.

                Another one-night-stand man…of course.

                I rolled my eyes as I traveled to the second bar room in the back. Here, one sometimes could find at least a little silence from the noise, but tonight loud drunkards broke that sweet silence. I casually leaned onto the bar, signaling the surprisingly classy-looking bar-tender.

                “What can I get ya, miss?”

                The bar-tender gave a one-sided smile. My cheeks slightly burned. He was handsome, the type to drink wine with in a French restaurant, but I was not surprised.

                “Just a water to go please.”

                “Are you the driver tonight?”

                “Yeah, what of it?”

                The bar-tender handed me a filled Styrofoam cup with a plastic lid.

                “Here you go...just a little advice, miss, though you cannot drink, do not be afraid to live a little tonight. It’s the weekend and life is short. Give in to some wildness. There are other ways to satisfy the thrill of living...”

                He looked me up and down slowly but quickly. I was wearing a black dress with neon leggings. Everything was stylized with metallic accessories and glowing threads, but very conservative. The outfit was definitely not a ‘chew-toy art’ for a man to indulge his visual senses on...which is clearly what this man was looking for, some ‘revealing’ skin.

                Pervert.

                “Thanks, but I got enough living life in Christ.”  

                His eyes popped open; one did not see many ‘authentic’ Christians around Midnight Red and most especially, not a Christian who liked dressing in Gothic or industrial fashions.

                I walked away.

“Hey, what is UP, Miss Sexy?”

                A black guy in typical ‘I-am-trying-to-be-ghetto’ attire, backwards hat and all, moved off from a wall. He started rapping some song and I just circled my eyes. I mean, I was not from the ‘ghetto’ and all, but seriously, why would a dude randomly rap like that to a stranger? To impress me? Ha! Good luck with that! More like to estrange me, if anything!

                “Thanks for the song, but goodnight.”

                I pushed through him without hesitation.

                I so just want to get out of here.

                I shoved through the ever-increasing dancing and thumping crowds, who were banging their heads at times like rockers. One woman hit me in the shoulder, but kept on partying like nothing ever happened, which just annoyed me more. After a couple more minutes, I finally pulled out of Midnight Red with almost a gasping breath and a small headache of peaked frustration.

                What happened to the lights? There is barely any.

                I pulled my leather jacket closer; it was the autumn season.  I cautiously began my journey across the black pavement. The making-out-Emo couple and truck were gone. I was left alone with only inanimate objects around me. I shivered; slight anxiety was added to the headache.

                I do not have my buttoned key to blink the headlights. How am I supposed to find my car? What happened to the lights?

                I peered into the thick darkness, searching for my silver Honda; the moon was clouded, yet still gave a faint sliver of light to help me search.

                “Hello, miss.”

                I smoothly pulled out my lipstick tube, which was secretly a bottle of pepper spray, from the front of my pants and into the pocket of my jacket without external notice; for a second, I felt like a hardcore ninja. I swiveled to face sour breath, stinking of beer and vodka. Two bulky, young men stood tall before me in dressy Jock tees and blue jeans. A large, silver ring was worn around one of the men’s forefingers, etched with some lady drunk upon a dragon.

                “Do you know how beautiful you are, darlin’? T-This moonlight rightly il-luminates every corner of your body.”

                The country man with the silver ring took a step closer to me.

                “Thanks…?”

                This is not good.

                The man smoothed his finger across one strand of my hair; my body began to quake a little as my anxiety transitioned into fear.  He smiled similar to the bar-tender, but this man’s eyes were unusual...darker than the bar-tender’s and glowing with embers...a predator’s eyes. A predator’s eyes...

                “So, Beautiful, let me buy you a drink, eh?”

                I almost coughed from the overpowering stench of his alcohol breath; I tried to keep as much sternness and focus I could muster.   

                “Thanks, but no.”

                “Oh, come on. Have a little fun.”

                He gripped my shoulder. My nerves electrified, breaking my sternness. I put my ‘lipstick tube’ to his eyes and quickly heeled his balls.

                “OWWW! That w***e!”

                I ran between two large cars until another man stopped me in my tracks. With his arms reaching, I kicked him also in the nuts. Apparently, he had balls of steel as he did not yelp; he bounded my arms and pulled me close into a tight grip. 

                “Let me go!”

                I squirmed viciously and he covered my mouth. I fiercely bit into his clammy hand and that time, he yelped. I struggled to get free until my eyes blurred from all the stress.

                “Take this, b***h!”

                The country man sprayed the pepper spray into my eyes (I had dropped it in the run and confusion). I bit my tongue with a muffled scream. I felt my face crash into the asphalt. My head bulged in aching pressure and I curled up my knees slightly in reaction. A bandanna went around my mouth and was hastily tied.

                Multiple feet crammed into my stomach, making my guts pound. I felt blood trickle down the side of my head as the country man smashed my face in with his filthy shoes. One of the other men pulled my hand out and stepped on it, at the right angle with the right force, breaking my wrist-bone. Tears crawled across my face, but I could not fully scream.

                Help! Someone help! Why? Why?! This doesn’t make sense! Are they that drunk? I need to get away!

A searing pain, most likely some sharp knife, struck through my right shoulder; my teeth clenched the fabric of the bandanna fiercely.

                “T-that is what you get, w***e! Enjoy hell!”

                I could hear the sound of their laughs and shoes walking away as my ears nosily drummed. Dizziness overcame me like a whirling carnival ride. I tried to lift onto my non-injured hand, but my stomach clenched me into defeat, back onto the asphalt.  My shoulder burned with so much pain that I could not describe it adequately enough.

                “H-help!”

                My voice was almost inconceivable for the senses. I did not have the energy to move the bandanna. My tongue tasted the iron of my blood.

                “H-HELP!”

                My neck fell; I could no longer hold it up. I could not scream or yell anymore. I could feel blood oozing all over my body.

                Am-am I to die?

                My thumping forehead wrinkled in fear.

                I-I am not ready to die. I know w-what lies ahead…but-but I am not ready! Please, not yet!

                “L-l-lord…”

                I coughed, which caused my stomach and forehead to pulsate even more. A silence ensued for a couple of minutes. I wanted to pray in full voice, but I was weary….I was draining away...

                I am going to die...aren’t I?

                I opened my sticky eyelids for a last glance at the moon; some tiny black dots were scattered across my vision.

                H-huh…!

                I went cold, as cold as someone can be with losing blood. To the side, a shadow loomed above me in a large, hooded trench-coat. A fashioned cane stood beside the person. From what I could see, the cane had a top of a large, silver skull with two crossed reapers in the skull’s eyes.

                Reapers....Death...

                My eyes closed again, but this time, automatically. I could not think or feel any more, except for the feeling of hope. Hoping that this person was not really Death...but a friend, instead of a foe. 

Author's Note

Sorry about the spacing! Pasting it from my Word document can make such changes.