BLACK

The sound of water droplets hitting the concrete floor woke Mark Whiteman up. His vision was blurry and his throbbing head couldn't recognise his surroundings. When he finally came back to his senses, all he could make out was that he was lying on his belly on the ground, which was damp and cold. The last thing he remembers is getting drunk in a bar as usual. But this time, instead of waking up in his bed, he found himself to be in some sort of a huge tunnel. "You look a little lost there, pal." A voice suddenly caught all his attention. He tried to get up to take a look at the person, whom the voice belonged to, only to discover that his hands were cuffed to a pipe. So he turned his head to the right. But still his eyes couldn't manage to catch anything more than a silhouette. "Who the hell are you man? Why the hell did you bring me here?" The figure kneeled on one leg before him and, at last, he was granted a view of the face that managed to spark a fear in his normally unshakeable mind. "I am no man, darling. I'm just your death."Mark's brain was racing to match the feminine voice with the ones he already knew. But he had no such luck. He have never known or seen this woman. After gazing into her charcoal eyes for what felt like an eternity, he felt the woman stand on her feet and walk around his helpless body. "And to answer your last question, your record is not as white as your surname suggests, Mr. Whiteman. Remember Jessica Swan?" The familiar name brought many uninvited memories back to his drunken head. The visuals of him cornering a petite woman in a dark alley and her screams as he plunged his favourite dagger into her stomach began to consume his conscious. A strained and forced 'no' fell from his lips. "For a man with such a violent record, I thought you knew how to lie. But guess what? You don't" An involuntary groan fell from Mark's lips as the woman kicked his jaw with her foot. He turned his face towars her with a murderous glare. This time he was able to clearly see the woman as moonlight hit her side from a c***k in the tunnel. Her tall, slim body was adorned in a black suit. The only skin visible was of her neck and face. Her face was set in an angry and authoritative expression. Eyes, as black as her hair held back by a hair tie, glared at his own hazel ones. Her pursed lips, clenched jaws and furrowed eyebrows complimented her hard stare. Mark was surely intimidated. But the effect this woman had on him only fueled his anger. All the arrogance he gained from his experiences with submissive women boasted his rage. "You think you're better than me? Uncuff these hand and I'll show you who the boss is." With a chuckle that held anything but amusement, the woman began to walk around his body. Her footsteps and his heavy breathing was the only thing Mark could hear. "I don't think, darling. I know I'm better. But I'm not stupid and I'm really not in a mood to play with you. So if you cooperate, I will get this done and I'll be on my way." "What do you want from me? Please don't kill me." "So now you have some manners. Didn't your mother teach you how begging to the devil is gonna get you nowhere? Don't worry. You'll have your whole gang in hell to burn with." The sound of metal clinking suddenly grabbed all of Mark's attention. He have heard this sound too many times to not recognize it. The loading of a magazine into the grip of a pistol. His heart began to do the final dash of madness. His brain told him how stupid he was to ignore his gut feelings. "As a goodbye gift, I'll answer your first question. My name........ is Black" As the last syllable fell from her lips, her fingers pulled the trigger and the last ounce of life left from Mark's body. "See you in hell"