The Devil's Bride (Book 1)

Chapter 2- Crash Landing

REYNA

I was slated to start work today. This would be the day I make my dreams start to come true, even if it was just one column in one magazine out once a week in one town that small and distant. I wanted to be a writer, but on my own terms, and part of my brain thought this was the way to go. Start from the bottom of the bottom, a magazine firm. I just hope my ideas aren't too strange for the world to like. I popped the toast from the toaster, buttered it, and pushed open the door as I rushed towards the bus stop. I don't want to be late on the first day, and I really need my own car. I really need a car. The bus pulled into the station, and as I watched the world pass by on the way to the magazine office, I went back to the thought of Brady Artell. He was strange, and I wanted to get to know him better, because our first chat didn't go so well, especially if you call 'It has memories' as one creepy sentence to say to the next buyer. He was cute, but cute in the way you'd look at your younger brother and 'Aww', not because you saw him as attractive, but because you thought other would. I'm sure they'll be some lucky girl, or guy, who'll pick him up and make him feel special. Cassandra, however, was a mystery completely. I asked about the fact that my bag was left unzipped, and she seemed adamant it was unzipped when she began carrying it, and for fear of interfering with my personals, left it unzipped, which was strange. I'd rather it closed, thanks.

The bus pulled in to the station, which luckily wasn't too far from the firm, so the short walk wasted no time. I heaved open the large metal doors to the magazine firm, and was greeted by a boy with dark brown hair, in his 20s, much like myself, sitting behind the desk at the reception. He smiled, ducking his head away from the computer to see my face. "Hello, miss. I presume you're Reyna Swindell." I nodded, letting him continue to speak. "Hi, my name is Peter O'Brien. Welcome to Crontill Weekly, where we were blessed with such a horrible town name even the magazine suffers. Please, follow me." I watched him walk towards the elevator, following suit as he pressed the button. As I had walked towards the building, it hadn't looked that tall, so I was assuming there weren't that many floors. The doors opened, and Peter and I stepped inside, the door closing after he pressed for the third floor.

"Is it normal for me to be nervous right now?" I said, as he turned to me and smiled.

"I know how you feel; I've only been here for a month. I was in this position once too, and I was shaking all night the night before. I didn't know what would happen to me. I didn't know if people would accept me, especially since I'm...different. Gay. It's hard to fit in when you're already labelled strange by the community, but you hold your head high, because you don't want a crash landing situation."

"What?" A crash landing situation? I seriously don't see myself boarding a plane any time in the future. At all.

"A crash landing situation. It was named by one of our writers, Helena Tanner. You'll meet her today, her sister is the current manager of the magazine. It's in terms of a breakdown, in the position where you'll crack down, you need to be ready to fight. To stop the need for a crash landing." He smiled as the door to the open office pulled open, and the two of us stepped out, in the rush of the morning crowd. People rushed around me, and I was flooded by the thought that I needed to get used to this. Peter led me towards a glass room at the end of a corridor, where a woman furiously tapped onto the keys in front of her. She smiled when she noticed the two of us scampering towards her office. She stood up, taking her coffee mug in hand, and lugged the door open.

"Peter! I see you found our new employee, Reyna, isn't it?" She continued once I nodded, her voice quick paced and sharp. "My name is Marie Tanner; this is my office." We folded into the room and took a seat opposite to hers. She clicked the door in place carefully before retreating to her position directly adjacent to her computer. "This is the heart of Crontill Weekly, and now you're a part of it. I'll have Peter show you to your work station after our meeting and then you can begin on your first column. This time, I'm giving you full access to whatever topic you decide, but from then on, sometimes I may ask you to write about certain topics or aspects. You're in safe hands, so let me know if you need anything. Thank you Peter." She smiled, and gestured towards the door. "Peter, her desk is B16. Thank you again." I was confused, but as I followed Peter, I realized the desks were allocated by number, and mine was the 16th in the B series. Once I reached the bare desk, with nothing but a computer and a trash bin, Peter smiled, and said goodbye.

This is it. Reyna, time to write a killer article. This small town needs to know exactly who you are. Who I am. I flicked the computer into life and began to type the heading of my article.

Like Zeus But Without the Power.

The writing was short lived, however, because soon enough, a woman peeked her head over the barrier and smiled, her long blonde hair tied into a low ponytail. She wore glasses, and her style was business chic; white blouses, pencil skirts and a watch. She grinned, staring down at my computer, still open on the article.

"I heard about you, newbie. My name is Helena Tanner, I'm the boss's sister. I guess she beat me to the dream spot, right? I hope you like it here." I smiled to her, and she walked around the barriers to shake my hand. "I like the title of your article." I shook her hand.

"Thank you, it's nice to meet you, Helena. My name's Reyna. I moved here yesterday, actually." She smiled, walking away back towards her desk, which was on the opposite side to mine. I couldn't help but notice a tattoo on the back of her wrist. It was a small leaf.

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THIRD PERSON

The woman was still clutching to David's legs. She let out another wail as she turned her head back to look into his eyes, which are now missing. Her muffled sobs angered David, not because she was crying, but because she was crying because he had done something wrong. He had hit a woman, and called her things he wants to take back. He wanted to know how Persephone knew all along. "How did you know I....hit that.... prostitute?"

"Well, you see, I was there too. You think I'd just guessed, did you? How else would I know?" She moved closer to the two of them, pressing her lips against his ear once more. "I was watching." He froze. If Elise and Sara having witnessed it all wasn't enough, now she knew. This woman. The woman who kidnapped him.

"Why did you do this to my poor David? What did he do to you?" His soon to be wife cried out, but nobody would be coming for her. Except perhaps Death himself. Persephone walked towards the doorway, leaning against the dark brown wood, and began to let out a muffled laugh.

"He abused a woman, and I'd hate for him to abuse me. It was a precaution. Now, I suppose, you'd love to know why he was a strip club. Kinda strange if you're getting married?" David's girlfriend slumped against him, heart broken. She had just found out that the man she loved was assaulting women and cheating on her down at the strip club. She threw herself off him when he tried to comfort her, tears falling down her cheeks.

"You...you went to that club, and you hurt someone, David. That was the last stand." She stood up, throwing herself towards the corner of the room, away from David. Persephone stepped away from the door and moved back towards David, pulling a knife from the vanity drawers. She grinned, walking towards the chair. She turned him around, so that he faced the bowl of his eyeballs.

"I'm getting bored, but unlike you, I don't like to cheat. Let's do this the hard way. Is that alright with you, Taylor. Do you want to watch the love you had die?" Taylor turned from her position in the corner, tears staining her face, and froze when she noticed the knife pressed close to David's cheek. "Next time anyone goes to a strip club; they should watch the darkness."

Taylor screamed. Blood dripped down David's cheek as the woman dug the blade into his cheek. His sobs were muffled as he covered his mouth to prevent himself from tasting the running blood. Taylor crawled her way towards the chair, tears leaking from her eyes, as David's blood poured down his neck. Persephone moved the blade and aimed for his wrist, slitting two cuts on either side. Taylor screamed once more, hoping for the best; for someone to find her. She watched the woman step towards her, the knife poised in her hand. The knife jabbed into her heart, and the world around her dropped into pitch blackness.