Knights in Versace

What little warmth was left in her was gradually fading away as the cold bridge bit at her bare soles. The chilly night air enveloped her like a frigid blanket, as if it were accepting her stone-cold heart as part of itself. Shivers went down her spine at this point, a reminder that a human should never be this cold if they still held any regard for their life. And it was that sharp pain that was numbing her feet, as well as the grim sight of the shoes placed by them, that had her waver at the final hurdle. Even the most pristine river would have its waters blackened at night. The darkness was like a large beast, and the occasional glimmerings on the water surface its razor-sharp fangs. She couldn’t help but recoil backwards at the sight. What little left of her self-preservation instinct had her lean back on the rusty railing behind her, and her pale, bloodless hands grasping firmly onto the steel bars. For a long time, she stood still in that uncomfortable position, like a crooked gargoyle. Her mind, that for hours had been dead set on making that jump, was blank. Indeed, dying was scary. What worried her the most, however, was how easily her conviction had crumbled. With cold sweat trickling down her forehead, she closed her eyes and reminded herself: she had no reason to live. No family. No friends. Nothing, nor no one, to keep living for. A dull life where every breath punctured her lungs and stabbed at her heart, and every sound was muffled and nonsensical, yet rang in her head nonstop. She just wanted the pain to go away, that’s all. And that’s why she was here. One, two, three, she counted following the beating of her heart. At twenty, she would jump. And as the count grew closer and closer, her heart beat faster and faster. She could hear the blood pulsating in her ears, her abdomen, neck and hair roots felt as if they had caught on fire. Every beat louder, and the one to come even more so. Alas, the moment came. At eighteen, her slender fingers, numb and an unhealthy pale shade from being tightly wrapped around cold metal all this while, slowly left the railing. And finally, at nineteen, a trembling, bare foot, left or right she didn’t know, stepped forward onto nothing but air. At twenty- “What are you waiting for?” The cynical remark was like a bomb, and everything went white. The shock made her lose what little balance she had left. Her bare foot that had stepped forward darted back, but only hit air! For a split second, she felt weightless and her mind went blank, before a sharp pain on her bum woke her up from her stupor. After all that, she somehow found herself sitting down on solid ground as she had luckily landed back onto the bridge. Her bottom felt numb, as did her right ankle and her hands. If it weren’t for the adrenaline pumping, she would undoubtedly be curling in a fetal position, her eyes closed and her teeth gritted in pain. But now, let alone discomfort, with her everything awake and the hormone flooding her bloodstream, even the biting cold concrete below her felt warm. Her scraped feet and hands didn’t feel like they were actually hers. She propped herself up with difficulty. She couldn't help hissing when her split palms came into contact with the cold railing, but at that point it was still bearable. She barely stood up and gasped for air. Only then, she managed to turn around to look at the speaker, that at some unknown point had appeared so close by her side. His hoodie and the lamp posts behind him made it difficult for her to make out his features. His large frame was enough to be called one of a kind, but no matter how much she scoured through her memories, she found nothing. As far as she was concerned, he had to be a stranger. “Who in the world are you?” she cried out to him. But no matter what response she might have been expecting, his was further off even from her wildest predictions. “A person about to die doesn’t really need to know that, do they? Now, don’t let me interrupt you again and jump, would you dear?” The girl was flabbergasted. No matter how she viewed it, she couldn’t find any trace of a joke within the words spoken in a charming, british accent. Indeed, the man was inciting her! And as if to confirm just that, he even motioned with his hands, as if annoyed, “Chop, chop, lady. Come on then, I don’t have all night.” Indeed, a truly gorgeous accent. Except, that only made things that much more confusing for her. The girl’s lips trembled as she pointed with a shaky finger. She wished to tell him off, but couldn’t regain her cool. Eventually, all she managed was to shout with a trembling voice, “W-what the heck is wrong with you- y-you lunatic!” The man raised his hands in defence and said, “Really now, I wasn’t the one about to commit suicide. I’m pretty sure the one here with a screw loose is you, lady.” The girl opened her mouth but couldn’t say anything. With her head a mess, she could not think of anything to properly refute his words on the spot. But there was no way he truly meant that, was there? Perhaps, what he really wanted was... Thinking up to there, she snorted and decided to continue with her endeavour, if only to spite him. Once again she stepped forward to the edge of the bridge, trying however much she could manage to ignore the odd man standing a short distance away. It had taken her many hours to gather the courage to do this, she would not let everything be ruined by some random... stranger. ‘He does have a nice voice though.’ This thought distracted her, and as the wind picked up, she once again fell, this time flat her back. The hooded man laughed and started walking towards her, his laughter laced with disdain. As he walked to her he waved his hand, “You could not live with your own failure. Where did that lead you? Back to me.” He said with a hint of mockery. This time the girl was quite upset. She knew full well what he was doing. “Did you really think quoting Thanos would make you sound cool?” “Oh my,” this time it was the hooded man’s turn to act surprised, as he brought a hand to his mouth. “Dear me, you actually know who that is?” The girl stood up and dusted herself off, “Who doesn’t.” The Man stroked his chin like a knowledgeable, oriental master with a long beard, deep in contemplation, “Be glad, lady. My interest in you has increased from 0.01% to 0.02%.” The girl was stupefied. She had never met anyone this arrogant in her life. The outrageous man didn’t stop there however, as he brought out his phone and squatted. Just like that, he started recording