Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Bullets.
Ambush.
Lights. Alot of it. Blinded by them.
Men fallen. Men, fighting. Men, dreading the worst.
Heavy. Foggy. Smoke. White fluffy smoke coating the sky. Blood decorates the ground. Fire erupts, taking everything in its path. Attack. Attack. Screams that will haunt a memory forever. Pain. An agonizing sharp sting on my left shoulder. Fall. Stumble. Dark red liquid drowns between my fingers.
Is this how I go?
Am I still alive?
My eyes fight to open, but the drowsiness weighs them down. Strength? I don't have any. Wake up. A sweet melody rings through my brain, serenading me like the eighties movies. Wake up. Shit. There it goes again. It's calling, begging, praying for me to wake up. I'm trying. I promise.
Suddenly, I'm standing in an empty blank room. White. The only thing I see. My feet move as I put one in front of the other, wiggling my toes. Am I moving, or am I floating? I take another step and fall backward, the room altering to black.
Wet. All over. Water drowning me as I leap up from the bath, gasping. I cough, spitting out the water I swallowed. I shake my head, the locks on my head spraying water everywhere. Slowly, I'm up, my clothes damp as I step out. A sound crackles from my left, and I swing in that direction, darting warily.
Brown-shaven hair. Pierced gold studs in both ears. A tattoo of roses peaking from his chest. Is that him? Ander? It can't be.
"Ander," I whisper into the void.
A horrifying scream leaves my body as Ander turns around, his face marred with slashes of a blade. Images of his body, wrist slits as blood pools around him. What is this? Why is this happening? Hot tears trail down my cheeks. I'm screaming, howling, sobbing. Make it stop. Please make it stop.
"How dare you give up on me, Asiel? What kind of brother are you?"
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
"I'll find the person who did this! I promise."
Blood. Blood. Blood. Spilling from all sides. Instead of water, I'm being suffocated by thick, red blood. I deserve this, don't I? The liquid is about to cover my lips until I realize I don't deserve this. I'm not perfect, but I'm doing what I can. There's only so much I can spread myself before I start tearing apart. Everything will work out. Ander in peace. Mika and I, living our fairytale ending.
I just know it.
Everything muffles into a hazy dream-like state, and my eyes flutter open, taking in the plain, bleak white ceiling. My hand twitches against a soft surface, and I crane my neck down to see my distressed, antsy girlfriend. Her dark, lavish black hair is a chaotic mess clinging to her cheeks. She's clutching onto my hand so tightly, but a part of me loves it. Is this what heaven feels like? To have the girl of my dreams worrying about me?
