A/N: Don't ask 0-0

Suggested listening: Linkin Park ft. Steve Aoki "The Light That Never Comes"

Hollows

They were near. Too far away to see them but close enough so the sound of steel soles erupted in the two's ears like their frantic heartbeats. Mello jumped over a hole in the destroyed asphalt, his companion's boots spraying water in all directions as the redhead tried to regain balance on the wet surface.

People always said that war is hell, but nobody was really ready for what welcomed the last survivors. At some point it was better to put a hole through your skull rather than live like a scared rabbit, crawling into every good enough shelter. But for some weird reason, name it "the will to live" or "the proud feeling of fighting against the system", Matt and Mello still ran. The redhead slipped, muttering curses as Mello jumped up to him and started dragging him after himself by the tattered vest. Somebody started shouting loudly, barking order to their soldiers. Matt narrowed his eyes, his gloved fingers slipping on the red bricks of the walls trapping them. Nobody remembered the times when the facade was still plain yellow... Mello looked at him desperately, his grip increasing. Suddenly a new pair of boots appeared in the narrow alley and the two sprinted forward, to their only chance in form of a glittering light at the end of the deadly trap.

They were surrounded.

Mello swallowed slowly, his eyes shining from the sight that took his breath away like a deathly dose of poison. His hand never left the striped sleeve, Matt noticed. The goggled man rose his arms, gesturing for Mello to follow.

Dark clothes, dark masks...

Black barrels and lifeless eyes...

None of the soldiers seemed to care for their well-being. Matt felt his breath hitch. So this was really the end? This was what the Reaper looked like? "Hey... No use using all these, you need only two bullets, right?" he tried to joke, getting no response from cyborgs in front of him. "Matt!" A quiet voice called his name. The redhead turned his head to the right, looking at his best friend. Mello's eyes were pleading, tears starting to pile up in them. "Mello..."

The world stopped to a halt as the two gazed at each other. Matt's orbs followed the line of the blond hair, messy and nat taken care of since so many days... Mello's lips never looked so tempting as at that moment. Matt realized he's been putting his arms down, turning to face his companion completely. Mello's gaze flickered from his eyes a little lower as the blond licked his lips ever-so-slightly. This was the signal Matt was waiting for. Ignoring some annoying clicks the cyborgs made ("Please surrender calmly, hands on the head, blablabla") he took the one step that separated him from his desire. Mello looked up, hesitating a bit but his fingers locking themselves with Matt's red strands either way. All they could hear was the violent blood flow their hearts produced, knowing these were the last few beats they could make. Matt's lips twisted in a small smirk, his hands resting on the hips he's never before thought were so perfect, as the two leant forward.

They didn't hear the shots.

They didn't feel the terrified flutter of their hearts.

All that mattered were these lips moving in harmony.

And as the world stopped again, gunpowder's smell reaching the two's nostrils, Mello smiled a little as Matt coughed, his face covered in the blond's blood. "You look beautiful." the blond whispered, his thumb smearing the blood further.

The cyborgs shifted nervously, standing in a neatly arranged row. A white figure was pacing in front of them, it's eyes glaring at them. "What was that?" the man asked in a quiet whisper. One of the cyborgs stepped forward. "Sir, the enemies were shot dead after they disobeyed our order to surrender." The white guy sighed. "Yes, I can see this much" his eyes flickered at the bloody corpses laying in the spotlight. "But what idiot let them kiss before that?" the cyborgs shuddered, how could someone be so inhuman? And it was said that their kind was the mutant one... "Sir... We were taken by surprise. When the shock died down..." "I understand" the soldier was cut down heartlessly.

The white figure paced forward a little and then stopped in front of the victims. "My poor, poor... friends..." he muttered the words in a way that suggested they seemed foreign to him, nudging the striped, now soaked with blood, human form with the tip of his shoe. The blond was laying on the figure, their fingers still laced despite death.

The general stood like that for a moment when a crack and a muffled cry resounded in the air. The guy turned around, only to find his soldiers laying on the ground with their necks cracked. The only one still standing had his eyes wide opened as some creature was lapping at the blood flowing quickly from his slashed throat. The creature threw its victim down, raising its hand to wipe the crimson liquid that now cover half of its face.

The part that wasn't covered with goggles.

"A-ah. Don't do that, Matty" the white guy flinched despite his will to stay calm. Something appeared from behind the bloody guy, a gloved hand turning his head to the left. The hunter smirked, feeling a tongue working it's way through the blood. "It tastes so much better from your skin..." a sick grin covered the blond's face as his eyes locked with the goggled ones.

"How..." a whisper was enough to make the beasts turn their heads. The general was standing on shaky legs, his once lifeless eyes full of panic. The devilish duo smirked and the blond opened his mouth.

"Never try to play with Death, kiddo, because you don't know the rules of the game".

A high-pitched scream filled the air as the two rushed forward with fang-like fingers, a laughter bubbling in their chests.

Never underestimate death... Because you don't know it's form.

A/N: This is what I'm thinking of while having a nice walk in the woods... Would you like to die from the hands of such Reapers? :D Oh, and I'm proud of the "Near's got big toys" thing xD

Review so I get to know what you think?