Chapter 1: She died
Chapter 1
"Stop!" Natasha's voice rang out, slicing through the thick silence of the dimly lit garage.
The man turned slowly, almost lazily, his hand wrapped around the throat of a young woman, pinning her against the wall. Her head lolled to the side, unconscious, her face pale and lifeless.
"Are you talking to me?" His voice was low, sharp, and cold, his brow arching in mild curiosity. He released the woman, letting her crumple to the ground like a discarded doll.
Natasha's hands trembled, but she clenched them into fists, willing herself to step closer. "Do you see anyone else here? And what the hell do you think you're doing? You could've killed her!"
The man tilted his head, studying her as though she were an insect he hadn't decided whether to crush or ignore. He was tall, his black leather jacket fitting him like it was made for trouble. Combat boots and dark jeans added to the image of danger, but it was his face that threw her off balance.
It wasn't just handsome—it was unnatural. Too perfect, too sharp, as if carved by a master sculptor. His cold, unfeeling eyes sent shivers down her spine.
"Who are you?" he asked, his tone detached, as though her outrage was nothing more than background noise.
"I'm the one stopping you from committing murder," she snapped, finding a surge of courage despite the fear gripping her. "Now answer me—why were you choking her?"
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, his gaze dropped to a black ring on his finger, the blue gem embedded in it glinting faintly under the flickering garage lights.
"How can you even see me?" he muttered, more to himself than her.
"Uh… with my eyes? That's how humans work," Natasha shot back, crossing her arms.
His lips curled into a smirk, though it was anything but warm. "You could've walked away, you know. Kept your head down. Minding your own business ever cross your mind?"
"And let someone die in front of me? Not a chance," Natasha retorted, though her voice wavered. She took a shaky step back as he moved toward her, his boots echoing ominously against the concrete.
"Did it ever occur to you that you might die for your interference?" he asked, his smirk turning darker.
Natasha's breath hitched, her gaze darting to the surveillance cameras lining the garage. "You wouldn't dare. There are cameras everywhere. The police—"
The man raised a hand, snapping his fingers. Instantly, every camera around them sparked and fizzled out, the acrid smell of burning plastic filling the air. Natasha flinched, panic surging through her.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, and she did. Spinning on her heel, she sprinted toward the exit. But before she could reach it, he appeared in front of her, materializing out of thin air.
"What the hell are you?!" she screamed, stumbling backward.
"I am death," he said, his voice calm yet laced with menace.
Natasha froze, her heart hammering wildly. "death?"
"Yes," he said, his gaze boring into hers. "And humans like you shouldn't be able to see me with this ring on. Which makes you… very interesting." He lifted his hand, the blue gem on his ring pulsing faintly.
Natasha backed away, shaking her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just let me go."
"I might consider it," he said, taking a deliberate step closer. "But only if you do one thing."
"Anything," she blurted out, desperation clawing at her throat.
"Kill me."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me." His smirk deepened. "Kill me, and I'll let you go."
Natasha's mind spun. What kind of insane demand was that? "I can't," she whispered, shaking her head.
"Then I guess you're asking for death," he said, his tone almost amused.
"Go ahead," Natasha said, surprising even herself. "Kill me if you want, but I'm not doing it."
His laughter echoed, cold and mocking, sending chills down her spine. But he didn't move to hurt her. Instead, he stepped back, his expression unreadable.
"Until we meet again," he said softly.
Natasha bolted, his chilling voice following her all the way to the elevator. Even when she reached the safety of her office, her hands wouldn't stop trembling.
Natasha sat at her desk later that day, her fingers tapping nervously against the keyboard. No matter how hard she tried to focus on work, her mind kept drifting back to the that man and his chilling request.
"You okay, Nat?" Gracie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Yeah, just… tired," Natasha replied, forcing a smile.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Gracie teased. "Or… death, maybe?"
Natasha's blood ran cold. "Don't joke about that."
Gracie raised an eyebrow but said nothing, dropping a stack of papers on Natasha's desk. "Whatever. Just don't forget about the meeting "
"Wait" she stopped her friend from leaving
"You're right, I saw death"
"But you seem fine to me" Gracie shrugged before walking of, believing that her friend was just joking.
******
Later that evening, Natasha found herself on a bus, staring blankly out the window as the city lights blurred past. She couldn't stop replaying the encounter in her mind. Was he really death? Or had she imagined the whole thing?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the violent screech of tires, the bus jerked to the side and Natasha was thrown against her seat. The world spun as the vehicle tipped, crashing onto it's side with a deafening screech of metal.
Pain shot through her body as she hit the floor, glasses shattering around her. Her vision blurred, her ears ringing. She tasted blood and felt it trickling down her temple.
Through the haze, she saw a figure approaching her. Before everything went black, she heard his voice, cold and clear.
"I told you we meet again"
And then nothing.
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