Golden lights came from the silver chandeliers above, reflecting back against the immaculately organized banquet. The elegant display was simply sitting on a long, Victorian table in the middle of the room. There were foods of every kind there; foods that were black and blue and red and orange all over; foods that tasted bitter and sweet and sour and spicy, all at once; foods that he couldn't even begin to name; foods that he figured not even Jack knew, considering the fact that he was just standing there, staring dumbly at the feast. A light yellow table cloth descended to the wooden floors, with the tip of his knee brushing against the edge of the cloth. Towards the center of that table was a tall, black candle, surrounded by withered roses and vines. It was already lit, giving the supposed dinner party a somewhat macabre appearance, a ominous aura not even Crow could deny.

The knives seemed too sharp, the spoons too large, and if he looked to the sides, he could practically see the dark, decadent ceiling of the hotel. There were light brown, marble staircases that descended towards him, seemingly caging him within the arrays of his own, demonic delusions. The fact that there was an array of empty chairs sitting beside both he and Jack hadn't helped. And yet, despite that, he couldn't help but notice the largest of the chairs at the ends. They were red for some reason; red, decorated with black flowers he didn't recognize.

He and Jack sat across from each other. Neither of them refused to touch the food, not even bothering to disguise the suspicion surrounding them. Jack still had the invitation stuffed in his jacket. He was tapping his finger impatiently along the table's edge, as his hand crept towards the spoon. Crow, on the other hand, simply sat there, fists clenched, as he waited for Belial to arrive.

He gazed at that candle for a while, before turning back to his silver plate. He caught sight of his face then; anxious shadows decorated the bottom of his eyelids, with worry lines embedded permanently on his forehead. He hadn't been able to relax for the past few ours; just this morning, a couple of bodies were found in an alleyway, all three of which their skins and bones carved out from their corpses. Their limbs were twisted all the way around, with withered rose petals left behind the scene. The reporters are all calling it yet another attack from the terrorists; as of this point, no one knew what kind of message the group was trying to send. And even if there was a message, Crow knew better.

Because during that time, Yusei was nowhere to be found.

"Mr. Hogan?"

His head shot up. Quickly, he turned towards the voice, as did Jack. He could feel his shoulders tense, his eyes widen in confusion. But just as quickly as it came, the tension left him, and he relaxed.

A woman.

A woman he'd seen before.

She cocked her head a bit, all the while smiling politely. She wore black, strapless dress, with a skirt that came all the way down to the floor. There was a large, golden crescent moon dangling from her throat, and when she made her way to the table, that same necklace seemingly swayed back and forth, like a pendulum. Her creamy pale skin matched the ominous presence the entire feast laid claim to, though it seemed she never noticed. Carefully, she brushed aside her golden strands, as she sat down at the end of the table, with her emerald eyes scrutinizing them both. "And Mr. Atlas; how could I forget?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? And who're you supposed to be? Where's Belial?""

She settled back into her seat. "Right. Well, Belial's entertaining my other guests at the moment. As for me," she continued, placing her right hand on her collarbone, "my name is Angela Raines. I'm a reporter for the WGGK."

"I see. And what's a reporter doing here?"

"My job," she said quietly. "I trust that Belial's already told you both everything?"

"Wait, hold up." Crow looked back and forth from the two, before resting his gaze on Jack. "You know her from somewhere?"

Jack was silent for a single moment, the ice entwined in his pupils. It wasn't long before a deep, dark scowl came onto Jack's face. "She's one of Carly's colleagues, from what I remember. She's the one who first broke the news that I was from the Satellite, back when we were still fighting those Dark Signers."

Crow paused for a moment, before turning back to Angela Raines. So that's where he's seen her, not to mention all the times she's been on national television. She's particularly famous for digging up scandals about famous celebs, and as of now, she's got her sights set on Yusei. But to think…that she could link Yusei to some bad guys roaming the streets was just ridiculous; to be honest, it's like a bad joke no one laughed at. Besides, even if she's got some talent for being a little tattletale, more than half her stories are probably fake. And besides, Crow knew Yusei; even if things are a little weird now, there's no way he could take anything that happened here seriously.

"Mr. Hogan," she suddenly said, causing him to snap to attention. "I see you haven't tried any of your food yet."

He caught the disappointed smile on her face. He flippantly turned away then, gritting his teeth as he did. "Not hungry."

"That's a shame," she whispered. She looked down at her plate, with both hands on either side of the silverware. "I had the staff prepare foods I'd thought you'd like. I even took pains, just to make sure the appearance was suited for you both; so neither of you are satisfied?"

"Stop playing around Angela," Jack snapped. "I feel stupid enough as it is. What exactly do you want from us?"

"I guess so." She took a deep breath, then turned her gaze to Jack. She stared at him for a while, before smirking emptily. "Well, I shouldn't have expected anything less. Nikolai was difficult to please too."

"His name is Yusei," Crow cut in.

Her gaze softened. "Like any good reporter, I'm only here to tell you the truth."

"You're nothing but a load of bull-crap."

"Even after everything you've seen, you've still so much faith in him?"

He sat back. "Hell yeah I do."

"Look, we realize you're only trying to do your job," Jack began, as he placed his elbows on the desk. "But we don't have time for any interviews right now. Go to Carly if you're looking for some stories-"

"That's funny. I didn't expect Jack Atlas to stoop so low."

"What-?"

"The mall hijacking? That poor, pathetic hospital being burned down? The men with those roses around their necks? The fact that your so-called "friends" were caught up in all of that? You do want to know more, don't you?"

Crow clutched both his arm rests. "If you're just gonna accuse Yusei again, then-"

And he stopped.

He came down from the steps, in the same manner Angela Raines had. His hands were in his pockets, his raven bangs swaying over his normally bright, french blue eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he usually was, with the same marker seared onto his cheek. But despite that, a serious frown was painted against his lips, and when he saw both Jack and Crow, he merely shrugged, as he made his way toward the other end of the table. Crow's eyes followed him as he did, and though he tried calling out to him, the words were lodged in his throat.

A black rose.

There was a black rose on his neck.

Yusei finally turned to the reporter, with sheer malice in his eyes.


Akiza entered through the large, iron doors. Her fingertips gently touched the surface, as she peeked her head out, trying to see if there was anyone around. Stray strands fell to her eyes, before she sighed, and stepped into the room. She tucked the strands behind her ear and shut the door.

A black chandelier hung from the ceiling, a sharp contrast to the angels painted nearby. The evening colors gave way to a dark, golden light which shone from overhead. Large, Gothic windows towards the back of the room portrayed the city horizon, with dark, red curtains aimlessly dangling from each side. The red carpet beneath had tiny, green vines slowly swirling around them, with brown buds that seemingly danced to the sounds of some toxin being spread around. Pink, empty chairs leaned against every wall, each with a single, white rose sitting upon them. She looked at those roses for a while, before turning to what seemed to be two, covered up canvases, each of which were hanging on either side of the room. When she turned back, she found a third one, just above that iron door. She narrowed her eyes, as she turned back. A few seconds later, her eyes fell to a single, table in the middle of the room. There was something underneath, with only a thin table cloth to cover it up.

She walked toward it. Where was Angela? And the other guests? Was this all there was? Of course, Akiza thought it was a little much, but still, she expected more from the reporter, especially all the fuss she was making about it before. Akiza couldn't help but sigh. She was about to dig through her purse for her phone, when she bit her lip, stopping just a few inches away from the table.

The familiar scent of iron struck her.

Her golden eyes came toward the white table cloth. She clenched her fists, as she reached over and grabbed the edge of the fabric. She paused for a single moment, hesitation decorating her frame. Slowly, she started to draw her hand back.

"Ms. Izinski, I take it?"

Akiza turned back, and saw a young woman standing a just two feet behind her. She was around the same age as Angela, though Akiza caught the sight of small, tiny wrinkles from the corner of her eyes. She had light brown skin, and raven locks, which cascaded down her black business suite. Sharp, amethyst eyes stared at Akiza callously, a dark, cold smile forming on her lips. Her fingers toyed painfully with each other as the woman returned Akiza's gaze. She leaned forward a bit. "I am talking with Ms. Izinski, aren't I?"

Akiza snapped to attention, promptly letting go of the sheet. "Y-yes! I ah…are you here for the dinner party too?"

The woman stopped for a brief second, before nodding. "I am. Ah, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" She walked towards Akiza and held out her hand. "Sarah Amrbosine. It's nice to meet you."

The witch took it gladly. "Nice to meet you too. How'd you-?"

"Angela talks about you all the time," she replied, letting go of Akiza's hand then. The woman known as Sarah Amrbosine swept past her, and strolled to the table cloth. Carefully, she took hold of the edge, and looked back. "And I should know. One of my coworkers works with her all the time. She's really good at what she does."

"I've…heard."

"Yes well, she is." Sarah continued, as she turned back. Carefully, she lifted up the sheet and peeked at whatever hopeless thing was lying underneath the cloth. Her shoulders shook slightly, and Akiza realized she was laughing. "She really is a piece of work though. Ah well, at the very least she'll get what she deserves."

"What?"

"This is her promotion party tonight," Sarah stated simply. "And it wouldn't have been fair for her if we didn't bring any gifts. She's paying for everything after all."

Akiza gave the woman an uneasy smile. "R-right," she said quietly, before turning away. The tension was splayed in the air. From the corner of her eyes, the cloth which covered the canvases seemed to beckon her, drawing her in with dark delight. If she squinted, she could see the tiniest of colors hidden beneath, colors she knew she'd seen before.

"So, what'd you think?"

Akiza turned back. "About what?"

"About my little gift?" The woman stepped aside, her hand resting against the table. "I really want you to see it; you are her friend, aren't you?"

Quietly, Akiza nodded, before making her way to Sarah. She stopped, and stared down at the thing.

A horrible stench.

With iron on it.

And from the side, a long, grotesque shadow, reaching out for her.

Akiza bit her lip, paling at the scene. She's seen this before.

She knew she had.

And without a moment longer, Sarah tore back the sheet.

There were bluish, bulging bruises all over its face, the whites in its corneas shimmering in red and black. Its lips were stitched messily into one big, twisted smile, with its fangs glued onto the sides of its cheeks. Brown and blond hair meshed together, with nearly half the strands falling to one side of its disfigured skull. What looked like black vines were etched into its skin, the blackening crimson carved in for everyone to see. The pearls it wore on its neck dangled from its throat, and the black tuxedo it had on was torn to shreds. A pink ribbon hung desperately from its falling hair, and though she couldn't make much of it out, Akiza could still see the black rose entwined within it. Its limbs were torn off, and if she undressed the thing, she very well see its torso, and all the other organs that comprised it. Stains upon stains of putrid filth befell upon the poor thing, and yet, despite that, Akiza felt neither sympathy nor empathy for the creature. In fact, she felt the same as she did before. It was like with those three, the night she killed them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sarah murmured, stroking its cheek tenderly. "It's a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. I'm planning on giving it to her as a gift."

Akiza flickered her eyes darkly towards the woman. She caught sight of an obsessive light, one that she could recognize just as easy.

Angela Raines, a reporter who would do anything just to get a good story. A woman that was fairly concerned for an intern that never even liked her. Carly's rival, a tattletale, a storyteller, a national icon.

And a friend, who gave her spider-lilies, as a get-well present.

Spider-lilies.

Amaryllises.

She found herself backing away.

"I've heard a lot of really bad rumors about you, Ms. Izinski." Sarah instantly whispered, causing Akiza to stop. "A lot of really, really bad things."

"W-what-?"

"The Black Rose," she stated loudly, as she turned back. Her bangs fell to her eyes, as she stared her down, drinking in the silence which decorated the macabre surrounding the two. "Surely you've heard of him before."

Akiza narrowed her eyes. She straightened then, the confidence brimming in her eyes. "I have. The terrorist, right?"

"So that's what you're calling him now? A terrorist?"

"What're you-?"

"I thought he was your sweetheart."

Akiza stared in horror, as the body arose from its confinement. Its head hung forward, with a sickening crack resounding in the air. A low groan arose from its throat, before tiny coughs escaped from its throat. Sarah's hand fell to her side then, as she glared at Akiza. "Queens aren't replaceable," she said quietly. "But concubines are. Still, he's got a lot of guts, to try and protect you."

Akiza could feel herself trembling. She stared at the corpse, as it slowly ambled out of its tiny, makeshift grave. It fell on the floor with a hard thud, with pieces of its own, rotting flesh sticking to the floors.

"But what I can't understand is why."

She took one step towards Akiza, and then another, and then another. And just behind her, Akiza could see the slightest twitches of the body behind her. "He's killed so many people, ruined so many lives. I can't understand why he would want to have anything to do with you."

The next thing she knew, she saw the corpse lunging for her.