❝ INCOMPLETE! ❞ → SPN ✓

THIRTEEN.

Much to her parent's dismay, Sage Welsh was at a ripe young age of eighteen when she got engaged to Blake Lilant; it was the one thing that she swore she would remember even in death.

And she found herself reliving the moment.

They sat at a table in the middle of a classy Italian restaurant. She was running her fork through the tiramisu that Blake had suggested she tried, her fork hit something hard in the middle, she looked down in confusion, she looked up again to see Blake on one knee...

"I want to spend my life with you. Do you want to spend the rest of yours with me?" her hand flew to her mouth, and she stood up, pushing her chair away from the table.

She couldn't make her mouth formulate the words, so she just nodded. She nodded, smiled, and threw herself into his arms as soon as he got up from the floor. Yes, she wanted to marry Blake Lilant, she couldn't think of anything she wanted more.

"I believe the expression I am obligated to use is 'congratulations'." The flutter of wings and a gruff voice knocked her from her trance.

"Sweet mother Mary." She jumped at the sudden sound, her hand flying to her chest. She stepped away from Blake, and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when the brunette boy carried on like she hadn't moved.

"She was anything but sweet," the owner of the voice – who she noted dressed much like a vintage office worker, in a black suit and blue tie, complete with a tan trench coat – shook his head.

"Ermm, well hello. I'm Sage?"

When she was five, Sage distinctly remembered she was told not to talk to strangers, but the mystery that shrouded the man drew her in.

"Correct, you are Sage Welsh. I came to retrieve you."

"Gosh, you make it sound like I'm some sort of item."

"You are," The man nodded. "You are an item needed by many."

"Who? Look, mister, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?" she nodded towards Blake, speaking out of the corner of her mouth, and toyed with the ring on her finger. "I'm kind of getting engaged."

"You're resilient," He didn't really seem to care. "That's what they like about you."

"Can we please stop playing the pronoun game? Who likes it?"

"The demons, the angels, everyone." He shrugged.

Sage inspected the ends of her hair. "Well, what's going to happen now then?"

"You will come with me. We have work for you to do."

"What about him?" Sage glanced over at Blake (lightly bobbing her head in his direction), who looked like he was crying as he held an imaginary person captive in his embrace.

"Do not worry about him, he shall disappear once you do."

"Great." She pursed her lips.

She was sure the man continued to talk, but she zoned out for a moment. She had to think. She couldn't remember much, only being choked by some inhuman force that stuck in her lungs like tar, and then the two men. The two men that struck a knife into her stomach, the two men that murdered her in cold blood. It seemed to her that they felt no remorse, they just let her die.

That, she remembered very clearly.

"Am I dead? Am I in heaven?"

The man in the brown trench coat and blue tie merely held out his hand.

But Sage Welsh didn't want to go home.

[yo that's the end, whatever.

I've never finished a book before and I don't really know what to say; is it obvious?

INCOMPLETE IS ACTUALLY COMPLETE FFFFF :((((

thank you for sticking through this short story with me ily pal]