Chapter 1

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 "PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU!" she's on her knees as I snatched the gold necklace around her neck. The heavyweight of the white gold pearls and four blood rubies encrusted on it would make an excellent price. "Take it. Now leave us alone, please!"

The blood oozing from her nose, staining the tips of her light hair and onto her marshmallow-white blouse, is more than enough for me to seize my actions. The pepper spray and alarming signal she used to defend herself failed miserably as they're now broken on the ground.

Her last defense was holding her child close and sobbing annoyingly. Judging by the kid's big hazel eyes studying me with a miniature toy car in his mouth, he doesn't know what's coming to him. Or to his mother.

"I could let you go," I shoved the necklace into my pocket. "But from my experience, when I let my preys go, they'll call the cops on me no matter how many times they promise not to. And you are no exception."

No matter how crowded Beverly Hills may be, there's always a dark spot where crime occurs. And I'm at that spot. Usually, dark alleyways signals the public to never walk through them, but somehow, there will always be some stupid people who believe they're brave enough to venture through and out safely.

Now, these people are my prey.

No one has come to rescue these unfortunate souls, no matter how many times the mother has screamed for help. And nothing ticks me off more than people screaming.

From the same pocket, I pulled out the dagger my dad left behind the day he abandoned me. Or Satan, as I called him. I despise him with every fiber of my being that I never ever want to do anything with him or use his belongings. And I did. This dagger, however, is different. Probably the only helpful thing he's left behind. Once the blade comes into contact with human blood, that person dies quietly, for their voice will cease. And should they survive, they'll never be able to speak again.

I charged toward her and forced the dagger through her heart. She froze as more blood spews out of her mouth, staining my mask. Her eyes jolted in horror, but quickly shut down when the dagger had done its job. She's probably never going to survive after this.

The child suffered a small slash on his cheeks, making him squeal continuously. I aimed the dagger at his heart next, but before I could penetrate it, the blade had done its job again, taking away that annoying voice.

I remembered that kids, especially babies, die quicker once the dagger hits them.

He crashed on his back with fear in his eyes. The same fear his mother had. I crouched down and gently stroked his cheek, which was still bleeding.

"Be grateful, you little brat," I said. "I'm doing you a favor. You don't need to suffer in this world anymore. It's not worth it. You're better off dead. We all are."

He kept his eyes on me, and it was then he died.

I turn around to see the mother in the same condition as her child.

Arising on my feet, I kept the dagger back into my pocket and unmasked myself. This black mask is made from titanium, attached with silver steel horns by the temples and red fangs by its mouth. People know him as The Red Demon. The heartless individual who murders because he could. He's killed many people, even children, in his past. And he's made quite a reputation in the state.

But without the mask, I'm just Daniel Carson. A twenty-three-year-old boy whose mother died when giving birth to him, his father disowned him when he turned five, and ever since then, he's been living with his grandfather. The only family he has.

I took off my jacket and wrapped the mask in it as I made my way out of the alley. The further I walk, the closer I am to society. Upon arriving, I held onto my jacket like a basketball player holding onto the ball and made my way home.

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