Chapter Five: A disaster

PLANET EARTH

London, United Kingdom

Chapter Five

It was simple midnight in London, there is nothing special happening.

As the airplane soared in the sky it meets those thin clouds ahead. The light of every house turned off, leaving the lights of the giant skyscrapers behind. 

Inside a hotel building, the Allen couple stayed for the night. 

Kristine Allen sighed as she sits on an overstuffed red chair. She laid her hands in her front, holding a golden purge that costs 200 quid. Lance Allen slammed the door open, and she sighed in relief.

"Are we having our anniversary tomorrow?" She asked, her eye bags slowly appearing in her thick foundation.

"Yes darling, no more client visits." He sits down on a couch next to her, slowly reaching out her hand. She grabs it, holding her husband's hand.

"What do we do?" She turns her head to him. "I ran out of ideas." 

She raises her right leg and laid it on her left leg. She places the purse in her side.

"Maybe, have some time with Karla?" He asks, glancing at her. 

"That's a good idea." She pulls out her phone from her purse. She taps a number and sticks the phone in her ear. 

"Maude?" 

There was no answer, until.

A disturbing rustle gave her chills, making her Goosebumps appear. And she hears a loud whack, coming from the phone. Mixed screams and cries gave out as a result as another whack was heard; now there is a louder scream. Another whack was heard once more, but everything turned silent.

She gasps, dropping the phone from her ear to the floor. Her husband picked up the phone, and the call ended.

He reads the number, it's Maude's. 

He felt suspicion. Maude never ends a call making her wife like this, or ends a call in such a short time.

Her wife's phone ringed, but the caller was unknown. He accepts it, placing it on his ear while making a glance at his wife. 

"Hello?" He asks, frowning at what's going on.

"Hello, sir." The caller was speaking in an Irish accent.

"Mr. Clevis, we already talked about this! STOP CALLING MY WIFE WITH AN UNKNOWN NUMBER!" He shouts at the caller, making it laugh.

"Escaping death Mr. Allen?" The caller's voice was serious. He knows what is happening, this thing happened many times before.

"Another thing to trick me?" He sighs. "This won't work Clevis."

"I am not Clevis." The caller's tone now was far from what he was expecting.

"Then who are you!?" He shouts, looking at her wife, she still hadn't recovered.

"I am your Death Angel sir, your angel." 

He hears a loud shattering of glass, and he drops the phone from his hand. 

/

He laughed loudly, swinging his bat and hitting brittle objects in the fancy hotel.

He is a Death Angel, his name is Draven Black. A modern-day grim reaper, wearing not a cape but a black emo suit with a pair of black wings to fly. He does not have a scythe, he has a bat for beating humans. His look is completed by black hair and an upside-down cross hung in his left ear. 

He guffawed as he swung his bat and walked on the shards of glass. He opens the zipper of his leather jacket, ignoring the yelps of the staff of the hotel. He pulls out a thick black book, with skull carvings on its cover. This is the Death Book, the list of humans who are destined to die. 

But he is not here to act as a grim reaper; he is here to act like a murderer.

He flips the pages and hides them back in his jacket. A purple orb flew above him, leaving a trail of purple glitters. The orb sliced itself into two, making a Pacman with a purple color.

"You know what to do Death Angel." The orb said, floating in front of his face.

"Yes, I know!" He folded his black wings and glared at the orb.

"Do what I planned." The orb said. "Don't rush; they're still didn't recover with the call."

The orb vomits purple glitters and a picture appeared, like what you see in holograms. He uttered a sigh as he saw his master and death; in a single room in her master's call.

His master speaks, and the orbs mouth followed with every movement of her mouth.

"You know what time it is Draven?" The master speaks in a very cheerful tone, followed by a laugh. 

"It's midnight, 12: 30." 

An awkward silence occurred, and he heard some laughs from the staff.

The master's eyes darkened. A shadow covered her deep frown, and her lips tightened and curl inwards. The master made a deep sigh.

"Then start now, they'll be leaving for a few seconds." The master's tone suddenly changed, from the woman who wants revenge to the woman that wants to have peace.

His ears may be lying, but he knew what is true. That master is a sorceress, the stalker of the billionaire Lance Allen. She is Olivia Finn, the ex of the CEO.

He scratches his nape, and slowly swung his bat, and made his way to a hallway to his left. The female staff of the VIP reception crawls to under the table of the reception, making their way under it in case they were in danger, and to decide who is the one who will call the cops. 

/

Lance kicked the doors of their room open and they ran their way out.

On the other hand, Draven is on his way to their room while carrying the bat on his shoulder.

As they rush their way in the hallway, Draven is walking peacefully, humming.

Lance trips in his feet, and her wife stopped behind him. 

He raises his head and a boy stood in front of him, wearing things emo would do wear. He blinks and a bat with bloody spikes was pointed at him. 

He is sure that it will be very painful, and in one shot he'll die.

He closed his eyes, and the bat met his forehead. Worm-like holes were buried in his forehead, and blood was dripping to his neck. His face was covered with blood, and his eyes turned white.

He's dead.

Kristine's next.

He kneeled next to Lance's dead body and pulled a white string from the dead body. The white string turned into a ghost, pulled away to its body. The ghost was sucked by a purple orb, floating up from Draven's back.

Draven stands up, walking towards her.

The only thing in her mind is to flee. If she stays here, she'll die.

Draven smacked the bat in his left palm, spikes dug through his skin. He points the bat at her, letting the blood in his hands drip on the carpeted floor.

Standing in front of the murderer with no things to flee, she closed her eyes, dropping herself to her knees.

Why should she escape it? Her husband died, and she doesn't know how to tell this to her young daughter.

Draven smirked. How selfish this woman is, leaving her cursed daughter behind.

Draven swung the bat and batted her. She drops on the floor with her eyes white, her head full of dripping blood. The marks of the spikes looked like wormholes.

He turns his back to the bodies, opening his wings and break through a wall. He flew in the mid-night sky, laughing.

His job is now over, and he'll spend another year reaping humans; as a punishment from god. 

/

Hearing silence, a female staff decided to call the cops. 

She picks up the phone, taps a number. 

As she tells everything to the cops, Kristine's soul was left behind, wandering, seeking for his husband.