A/N: How are you lovely ladies (and growing gentlemen?) doing today? I am a new writer on Fanfiction, so I hope that you guys enjoy my story. My title isn't necessarily good, but I hope that you will enjoy the story all the same. I will be changing the title soon when I think of a better name, so you guys should review and help me out! Happy reading!

"A-are you really going to do this?" He took a small, cautious step back on the black street.

His surroundings were a blur of darkness. However, he could make out a small, frightening silhouette, just a few strides before him. The tiny frame merely shot him a wide smile, sending freezing shivers down his spine.

"I have to," a melodic voice whispered.

"You're going to go to hell," he protested. "Don't do it."

He took another step behind him and continued on until he could move no more. He clenched his fist in agony as he felt the cold wall of concrete brush against his fingers. He knew he was doomed to his death and in no way could he run away.

"I already told you that I have to," the voice said. "It's too late for regrets now."

"But going to hell? That fiery pit of t-torture?" he shouted, his voice slightly cracking. "How come you aren't afraid?"

He kept his brown eyes on the figure before him. From behind the dark shadows, a young girl with a small frame stepped out into the moonlight.

Slowly, she heaved her shoulders up and down. "I don't know. Am I supposed to be?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "You amaze me."

She felt the ends of her pink lips tug upwards as she gently lowered her head in 'embarrassment.' "Why thank you."

He exhaled a cold, foggy breath and let his limp body slide down the cold wall. Minutes passed as he squatted in his spot, curiously staring at her precious pair of honey-golden eyes. He snapped to the frightening reality as he reeled in his legs into a crossed shape. "So, this is really g-going to happen?"

She nodded before reaching down to pull out a few items from the inside of her brown boots, her sharp eyes never leaving him.

"Then let me ask you o-one thing," he stammered, watching her every action.

She pulled out a small pistol from her right boot and a long silencer from her left. As she began to slide the silencer onto the tip of the gun, she blew a couple pink strands of hair away from her face, focusing her attention to the man before her. "Shoot."

He chuckled bitterly at the irony. Was she doing this on purpose to tease him or was it just a small accident?

"You said you had to do this?" he asked, "Why?"

She looked at him, her pink lips forming a thin line. Whatever she told him, he would end up in hell anyway, so it wouldn't matter. "Somebody wants you dead."

She studied his reaction and was slightly surprised to find that he had none at all.

"I see," he mumbled quietly to himself. "Who?"

She heaved out a sigh. "A mother of one of your victims. A short, brown-haired teenager with a bob cut. She committed suicide quite a while ago."

He tilted his head back to get a full view of the stars. "Her huh? I never would have guessed."

Her pink eyebrows creased as she brought the silenced pistol to his wrinkled forehead. "Why not?"

"I picked her up on the street," he paused. "It was terrible. She was covered in bruises and cuts from head to toe, but she was still smiling. To me, she just seemed to be so full of life."

"And you guessed that she wouldn't commit suicide based on that?" she guessed, her eyes never leaving her gun.

"Obviously." He shrugged. "I guess a 36-year-old man like me isn't cut out for this business."

"I don't know about that." She lowered her pistol a few centimeters, her eyes turning soft. "I think you do pretty well swindling money before raping innocent high school girls.

He closed his eyes and laughed. "I guess we'll both be going to hell then."

"I'm not going there yet," she declared. "But you should show me around when I get there. We can go for a cup of coffee."

He chuckled once more. "I don't think they have any coffee in hell though. But I will look forward to that date."

She smiled and looked at the man before her for the last time. He was well-built for a middle-aged man and his arrogant attitude matched him well. He was a man that she kept around for three weeks after all.

"I'm glad we got to know each other," She admitted.

"Even though I'm the bad guy?" he smiled. All of the ill and frightening feelings had left his body. Never before had he ever felt so relaxed.

"Of course."

It remained silent for a few minutes. Both parties looked at each other silently, reminiscing about the past few weeks. To him, it was an enjoyable experience. He knew he was dirty and tainted, but the fact that a young and pretty girl such as her would even bother to talk to him made him smile. To her, it was another three weeks spent with another criminal. But she didn't hate it, no matter what, that was what she couldn't deny.

"Then..." he trailed off. "This is it."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm going to miss you."

"You don't need to lie," he looked at the rosette, a playful smile on his lips.

"I'm not," she objected, playing along. "Even I miss rotten old rapists from time to time."

He grinned and let out a hearty laugh. Slowly, he let his laugh stop and his brown eyes stare at the young teenager before him. "Bye-bye."

She looked at him softly and nodded, raising the gun to his head.

Despite the soft expression on her face, he could feel his heart pound quickly in his chest, as the cool metal touched the wrinkles of his forehead. Beads of warm sweat trickled down the top of his head and down his cheeks. There was no surviving this, he felt certain. But maybe that was how she worked: cleanly and without fail.

He couldn't help but let a single tear slip out as he raised his hand to shake a small wave. "Good-bye...Amu."

She paused and bit her lip before slowly pulling the trigger. Streams of red blood dripped from the small hole in his head and slowly formed a puddle around his legs. She stood up and shook off the bits of dust that had landed onto her. She began to walk away, letting her steps make a short rhythm. At a considerable distance from the man, she turned her body and smiled, "Bye-bye."

A/N: Yes, the man was an OC. I didn't really have a choice, but it fit pretty well. I think. It's supposed to be a prologue...maybe not a very good one. It's open-ended and it explains absolutely nothing. However, maybe it got you curious enough to read the next chapter? I don't know if it did, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Anyway, ignore my ramblings and please review and tell me what you thought...honest opinions would be nice. Review!