CHAPTER 4

Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock!

What was that?

The sound of a clock?

Where was the sound coming from?

Where was the clock?

Why was it like this?

His ears were ringing, and he couldn't breathe. He felt like there was something weighing on his chest as he lay floating horizontally. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. It was as if something was holding him back.

Where am I? Michael asked himself. He had no recollection. He didn't know where he was.

Maybe he was just having a nightmare, like he always did. All he needed to do was wake up, and everything would go back to normal.

"Michael..." The voice was deep and baritone. The tone was familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"W-who a-are you?" His voice trembled. He didn't know if it was fear or the sudden drop in temperature that was causing it.

Michael opened his mouth, and strangely, even though his eyes were closed, and despite the darkness, he saw the smoke coming out of his mouth.

"I will tell my name to you, but you have to fully surrender your soul to me..."

"Stop deceiving me! I know who you are! And I know exactly what you are!" he shouted out of fear. "You want my soul? Then, you can't have m—"

His bravery vanished when the entity said something that made him recall the memories. The sharpness and coldness of the knife that pierced his chest and throat came flooding back, and he felt it again in his current state.

Michael grasped his throat, trying to gasp for air, but it didn't happen because he realized—

He wasn't breathing!

His heart wasn't beating!

Did that mean he was dead?

"Have you remembered everything now, Michael? Now, I want to give you a chance. A chance to be alive again. A chance to take your revenge and figure out who did this to you. All you have to do is surrender your soul to me."

The words brought back memories of who owned the voice. It was the demon that inhabited the black Daffodil his abuela had given him.

He remembered the deal they made when he was on the verge of death. He remembered how cold the entity's hand was when he reached out. But despite the coldness, he knew there was a burning sensation in the entity's hand. He couldn't explain it. It was hard to explain.

If he were to compare the entity to something, he would say it was like a thread that was knotted and hard to untangle.

"You're running out of time, Michael. You have to choose now."

He wanted to live again. He wanted to know who killed him. He wanted to know the reason behind his death.

"Take my hand, and pledge that after your revenge, your soul is mine."

"And what do you want me to do?" he said boldly. The fear that had gripped his non-beating heart was replaced by burning anger. He was even surprised by the anger he felt.

"Offer me a soul, soul of every person behind your death."

"But how would I do that? And how would I know if the person is the one who betrayed me?"

"Accept the deal that I am offering you. And you'll know your every question."

Michael was about to think when small, blue creatures surrounded him. They were only about a foot tall, but their skin looked like cracked sausages, and their heads were full of horns, which was enough to terrify him.

"W-who a-are you?!" He was taken aback.

"They are soul collectors, Michael, and they are here to take you."

"No! P-please, whatever you are. S-save me..." he begged. And after he said that, a hand wrapped around him.

Above him, he saw the entity that owned the voice that was talking to him.

The word handsome wasn't enough to describe the man in front of him. Because the man in front of him was beautiful! The man's eyes burned with a cold, blue flame, devoid of life, mercy, or heart.

Michael's heart, which wasn't beating, suddenly felt like it was racing, especially when the man's black and red wings unfolded behind him.

Michael opened his mouth to say something. But the words were stuck in his throat when he was lifted up, accompanied by the flapping of the man's wings.

Along with the noise, Michael's eyes snapped open. He gasped for air, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

His nose wrinkled as the pungent smell of the surroundings hit him. But he was happy. Because he was breathing again. He was alive again.

"I am back..." he said to himself, standing up from the pile of trash where he was. "I am alive..."

He didn't know how he ended up in this place. He wasn't sure how many days had passed since he was killed. But one thing was certain - he was determined to take revenge. He would find out who was behind his death before the time given to him by the entity sleeping in the black Daffodil flower ran out.

He looked at his hand holding the black flower.

He would release him soon.

He would release the demon here on Earth.

All he needed to do was find his first victim. He needed the blood of his enemy to sprinkle on the black flower to fully awaken the entity that had helped him.

From where he was, he gazed at the sky filled with countless stars.

Michael sneered, remembering the God who didn't help him. He would forget Him. He wasn't even sure if the God he worshiped before he was killed was real.

In the distance, he saw a black hat. He approached it and picked it up. He put i

t on before leaving the trash pile where he woke up.

Now what, Michael? What would he do next?