Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 19: Ace

            What the hell had Death done to my family? To me?

            Maybe he hadn't done anything at all.

            Maybe I was just crazy...

            Something moved at the corner of my eye. A shadow.

            "Hello?"

            A woman slowly stepped out from the darkness.

            I took a step back, stiffening.

            She couldn't have been a day over twenty, with a mess of wild brown curls which spiraled down her back. Olive skin, a slim waist, and high cheekbones that made her look very severe. She sported thick black eyeliner and a smoky eye shadow that made her amber colored eyes stand out. Her eyes seemed to swell with a past that wasn't so pleasant; hauntingly grim and brooding. She was smaller in stature than me, but she looked like she worked out often.

            If she had attacked me right then and there, I wasn't so sure that I would have won.

            I bring this up because she looked like she was about to attack me.

            Neither of us said a word.

            I eyed the belt along her waist. It had a cell phone strapped to it, and something half-covered by her hand.

            A gun?

            Still silent, the woman took a step towards me, briefly eying the medallion within the glass case. My hands curled into fists. I stood my ground, letting her come closer.

            "What's your name." Her voice was softer than I thought it would be and didn't quite fit her harsh appearance.

            I narrowed my eyes daringly. "I could ask you the same thing," I retorted.

            She sneered a little. "Psychic is not working today."

            "Psychic? I... didn't mean to impose. I just wanted to see what was back here--"

            "Who are you, and why are you here," she spoke much slower, eyes still severe and dangerous.

            "Hope...Smith. Hope Smith." I cleared my throat."That's my name! Hope Smith." I laughed a bit awkwardly. Nice going.

            Her expression was vacant of any emotion. "You're a terrible liar."

            "Listen," I began, "I don't want any trouble. There was nobody up front. I....I just went through the curtain over there without thinking--"

            "I asked you two questions." She gave me a fierce look. "You only answered one." She moved inhumanly fluid and calculated towards me-- a lot like Death. In a matter of seconds, there was a gun to my forehead, and my pulse thumped in my ears. Her eyes drilled into mine, pupils dilating. "Why. Are you. Here?"

            "Desperation," I answered, standing my ground. "My aunt... she, uh...is really into this sort of stuff, Psychics and such." I wasn't exactly lying, my aunt had talked to me once about going to get her palm read or something in Chicago. "So I... Googled the nearest psychic, and you guys weren't too far a drive away from my house. I want a.. palm reading... or a psychic analysis--whatever the hell you guys do, I want it."

            Great. Now she can steal from you and leave you for dead.

            Not that Death won't be doing the same very soon...