Loyed sat in the lecture hall, eyes fixed on the board, though his mind had long since drifted. No matter how hard he tried, one thought pulled at him relentlessly:
Bella…
The way she smiled. The way she spoke, full of conviction. She had left a mark he wasn't ready to acknowledge. Her laughter echoed in his memory—light, easy, carrying the strange familiarity of someone he'd known far longer than a single day.
"Alright," the lecturer's voice cut through his haze. "Lessons begin tomorrow. You're dismissed for today."
The shuffle of chairs and chatter of students filled the room. Loyed blinked, realizing how far his mind had wandered. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and wove through the departing crowd.
Halfway down the corridor, a jolt hit him.
Shit! I never got Bella's number.
Panic fluttered in his chest. How was he supposed to contact her? Where would they meet?
Without a second thought, he broke into a brisk pace, scanning the crowd for even a glimpse of her sky-blue hair.
And then—
He stopped dead in his tracks.
There she was.
Standing by the front gate, as if she had been waiting all along, two cold drinks cradled in her hands. The sun caught her hair, making it shine like threads of silk, and her calm presence seemed to quiet the chaos of the dispersing students around her.
Loyed's chest tightened. His surprise slipped out in a stammer.
"Uh… oh… I-I hope you haven't been waiting long?"
She lifted one drink with a playful smile.
"No, not at all. Just about five minutes." Her voice carried an easy grace, but the next words made his heart stir.
"I decided to grab refreshments for us. I was going out on a limb here… but I really hope you like cola."
The can gleamed in her hand, droplets of condensation sliding down the metal. Loyed stood there for a moment, stunned by the fact that she had thought of him first. He took it, the cool metal pressing into his palm, and offered a grateful smile.
"Well… to be honest, it's not exactly my favorite. But hey—there's always room for growth, right? …So they say."
Bella blinked, then giggled, straightening her posture before clearing her throat. In an exaggerated British accent, she declared,
"Ah, yes, good sir! We humans are innovative beings!"
Loyed nearly choked on his first sip, chuckling as he raised his can with exaggerated elegance, slipping into his own British accent.
"An apt assessment… Sir Francis."
The two of them erupted in laughter, their voices blending with the hum of passing students and the rustle of trees in the late-afternoon breeze. For a brief moment, the world blurred, leaving only their shared joy lingering in the air.
Bella wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye, her giggles fading into a softer smile.
"You know…" she said quietly, "this is the first time I've really connected with somebody."
Loyed slowed his steps, letting her words sink in. "Really? That's hard to believe. You seem like someone anyone could open up to."
The playful laughter faded, leaving a quiet warmth in the space between them.
They walked side by side, sipping their colas.
Bella's voice lowered, her gaze drifting past the crowd, as though her words were meant only for him.
"Most guys… they come at me with ulterior motives. Some are after my body. Some want to parade me around like a prize. Others try to buy me with money, assuming that's the kind of person I am."
Her fingers tightened around the cold can, droplets sliding down to the pavement like quiet punctuation. She glanced back at him, her eyes catching the soft afternoon light.
"I've always been able to see through them. But you…" Her lips curved faintly. "…with you, I don't feel that way."
He took a long sip of cola, the sting of the fizz barely registering. Her words had his chest fluttering, each beat stubbornly refusing to calm.
"I could be just like those guys," he said carefully. "Or worse. You barely know me."
Bella shook her head, defiant.
"That may be true. But what I feel right now—" her hand brushed lightly against her chest "—is real. I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Her truth lingered in the air, unshakable. Loyed forced a slow breath, letting the tension ease just enough.
"…Alright. So," he said, deliberately shifting the mood, "where do you want to go? Do you have a place in mind?"
Her face lit up with a soft excitement. "Yes… there's this place I visit every day. The view there is absolutely captivating." She glanced at him, as if sharing a secret.
Something flickered in her gaze—warmth, certainly—but beneath it, something harder to name. Familiarity? Nostalgia? He couldn't tell.
"…Okay then," Loyed said, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Please, lead the way."
She stepped ahead, the setting sun painting her hair in soft streaks of gold. Loyed followed, and as they walked, the air subtly shifted. Laughter from nearby students dimmed, fading quicker than it should have. The wind that had teased the trees moments ago fell still. Even their footsteps sounded sharper, echoing faintly against the pavement.
It wasn't ominous.
Not yet at least.
But Loyed couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't just being led somewhere new…
He was being led somewhere inevitable.
The two of them moved side by side in silence. The quiet wasn't peaceful, it carried a tension neither could shake.
Finally, Bella's voice cut through, tentative but firm.
"Uh… Loyed… have you heard of the lady going around killing men?"
The question jolted him. He dismissed the reaction quickly, brushing it off as her way of breaking the silence.
"Yeah. I read an article about her," he replied. "She's targeting young adults. They're calling her… Beauty the Ripper, or something along those lines."
At the name, Bella's eyes dropped. Her fingers intertwined, pressing together as if to steady herself. A soft, almost inaudible whisper slipped from her lips.
"Yeah."
Loyed blinked, unease stirring in his chest at her reaction.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently. "I mean… dealing with people like her—that's what you're training for, right? And a female psychopath… that's pretty rare."
Bella stopped abruptly and turned to him. Her hand shot out, clutching his tightly, almost desperate, yet strangely steady. Then, as if a dam had burst, she cried out,
"I just want you to be careful!"
Her voice cracked, echoing down the empty street. Loyed froze—not at her fear, but at its raw, unfiltered intensity. Slowly, a calm smile curved his lips.
"Don't worry about me," he said softly. "I'll be fine."
Her brows knitted, concern refusing to fade. She nodded, but her grip lingered a moment longer before finally loosening.
They continued walking side by side, and Loyed's thoughts churned in silence.
Man… I'm falling for her deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, Bella stopped, spinning to him with a bright smile.
"We're finally here!"
Loyed followed her gaze and frowned. Rows of apartment flats, plain and unremarkable, stretched before him.
"…Finally where exactly?"
"That one," she said, voice almost reverent, pointing to a tall building. Its windows were shattered, walls streaked with age and shadow.
A faint chill brushed Loyed's spine. The building loomed silently, waiting, as if aware of the moment about to unfold.
"Are you sure it's safe? Unauthorized buildings can be… dangerous," he said cautiously.
Bella's grin broke through the stillness like sunlight piercing clouds.
"Of course. I come here all the time to watch the sunset."
For a fleeting moment, the weight of the abandoned building melted away. Loyed blinked, caught off guard by how effortlessly her expression shifted from composed, then a flicker of worry, and suddenly carefree.
"You just keep surprising me," he admitted. "I never would've pegged you as the adventurous type."
"What's life without a little adventure?" she replied, giggling. The words carried something more of an unspoken secret tucked between syllables.
He sighed, smiling. "Fine. I'm sold."
Together, they stepped inside. The narrow staircase groaned underfoot, echoing through hollow corridors. Time seemed to stretch with each step, anticipation coiling in his chest.
Finally, they emerged onto the rooftop.
The city unfolded before them like a living painting. Towers of glass burned gold and crimson in the setting sun. Streets shimmered with headlights weaving threads of light, while the horizon melted into violet and rose.
Loyed froze, breath caught. For a moment, the world below seemed distant, insignificant. Two figures alone against the sky, suspended above everything.
Bella tilted her face toward the fading sun, her eyes catching the light. She smiled softly, as if the view itself were her secret.
And in that moment, Loyed couldn't tell if it was the city… or Bella herself… that hit him the hardest.
The skyline stretched endlessly, vibrant and alive. His breath hitched, unable to look away.
"Lovely, huh?" Bella's voice was soft.
He nodded, eyes reflecting the molten hues of the setting sun.
"…It's beautiful."
They stood in silence, shoulders brushing faintly as the golden light bled into dusk. Slowly, almost unconsciously, their hands drifted closer, fingers hesitating until at last they intertwined. The world around them vanished. No voices, no wind, no sound… just the weight of that single touch.
Time blurred. The sun slipped beneath the horizon, giving way to the silver glow of the rising moon, casting their figures across the rooftop like actors on a stage.
Loyed turned to her, heart laid bare, defenses gone. A smile so pure it almost hurt curved at his lips.
"Bella… I think I've—"
He swallowed.
"I think I've fallen in love with you."
Her eyes held him steady, unreadable. She stepped closer, arms folded behind her back, her sweet scent brushing against him, lips grazing near his ear as if acknowledging his confession.
For a moment, the world felt perfect—suspended, intimate, unbearably close.
Then she whispered, velvet smooth, her voice dropping just enough to shiver through him:
"I have a confession too… I am… Beauty the Ripper."
Time shattered. The words should have been a cruel, absurd joke but the glint of steel pressing iron into his stomach was brutally real.
WHISS—!
Pain tore through Loyed's abdomen before his mind could even catch up.
He blinked, eyes snapping from his bloodied stomach to her—then to the knife, slick with his own blood, droplets sliding off its sharp edge. Shock rooted him in place.
A raw, animalistic sound tore from his throat as he doubled over, knees smashing into the concrete.
He collapsed, blood pooling beneath him, each breath shallower, sharper, more desperate than the last.
"B… Bella…" His voice broke, torn between agony and disbelief. His eyes darted to her, searching, pleading for the girl he had fallen for beneath that warped, monstrous smile.
"Why…?"
Her smile wasn't the gentle one he'd known—it was sadistic, hungry, full of a dark, twisted lust.
"But Loyed… I warned you. I told you to be careful."
Her words echoed: the memory of her plea on the street crashing back into him. Cruel clarity settled in. Bella crouched before him, tilting her head like a curious child, the knife dangling loosely in her hand, still wet with his blood.
"Why are you doing this!?" he rasped, desperation clawing through his chest.
She hummed, studying him. "Why?" Her voice was light and playful, yet edged with danger.
"Because watching someone fight… seeing them claw, scream, beg… it's exquisite." She tilted her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips.
"The way hope flares, then shatters. The panic, the pain… the desperation. Ahh~, yes."
Her gaze drifted skyward, unhinged.
"Nothing excites me more than watching hope die. That moment when love curdles into despair—"
Her tongue slid along the blade. She shivered.
"…Pure ecstasy."
"No," he choked, tears streaking down his face. "This… this isn't you. It can't be."
Bella laughed: warped, inhuman. "Isn't it?" She leaned close, lips brushing his ear, mock sincerity dripping from every word.
"The smiles. The laughter. The hand-holding…"
She whispered, almost tenderly.
"All just foreplay."
Loyed's body trembled, strength draining with each faltering heartbeat. But the cruelest pain burned deeper than the wound, the ache of something far more fragile.
The first time I let myself believe…
Dammit—
I thought… maybe…
His teeth ground together as he clutched his stomach, blood slipping between his fingers.
Just maybe with her—
His vision buckled. The thought fell apart before it could finish.
The rooftop felt colder. The night stretched thin and endless. City lights bled into distant halos, like a world already moving on without him.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
"Figures…" he breathed.
Falling in love really was... a bad omen.
Silence.
Above him, Bella stood in the pale glow of the night, her expression unreadable—part sadist, part ghost of what might have been. Below, the city carried on, oblivious to the tragedy etched into the rooftop where love had bloomed… only to be severed at the root.
Darkness pressed in.
Endless. Suffocating.
No.
The thought flared weakly, desperately his vision swimming, his heart hammering against the dark.
I don't want to die. A tear ran down his cheek.
His fingers twitched against the concrete, scraping the stone as if trying to cling to the world itself, but life was already slipping away.
Please…
The darkness did not answer.
It closed in all the same.
And then... there was nothing.