•Nefra Bellé•

Her hair burned as red as the lighter in her left hand.

"What do you want? Name a price, anything, I'll give you anything!" He pleaded, hands clasped towards his chest, as he continued to shriek in agony.

"Anything, darling?" She sighed, letting a cloud of smoke part from her lips.

Words congested in his throat, chocked by her lazy, dangerous, sinful stare.
Only then did the fifty-two year old, bankrupt man realise, he had just given the spawn of the devil the freedom to- Fuck. Him. Up.

"Then give me everything."

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Even heartless killers deserve love...or do they deserve each other?