. . .
Greissha's vision was fading, but she couldn't die yet. Not without landing a punch on the stupid face that gawked at her for what seemed like an eternity.
"Just confess, woman," said a croaky voice, "We have enough evidence to pin you for everything. Stop wasting both our time."
Greissha's droopy eyes forced themselves open, desperate to catch one last glimpse of the police officer she swore to condemn in the afterlife.Â
Of all the faces in the world, this sagging police officer, with his ugly eyes, hideous skin, crooked nose, and pointy chin, is the one she'd see last? Dying, she regret nothing but rejecting all the glorious models who came knocking on her door for love.
"That can't be true," she replied weakly, almost as a whisper, "If you had enough evidence, you wouldn't be here forcing out a confession."
A loud sound of unknown cause failed to startle Greissha, she was losing her hearing as well. Was it just another one of the lunatic officer's sudden outbursts? Or was it actually the sound of the door opening? She was too dying to tell.
In reality, a bunch of well-built officers had actually stormed inside the room to intercept the interrogation. Their black uniforms were embedded with the initials U.I.F. and they were marching into that place to take over Greissha's custody, and keep her safe.
Two of the U.I.F. officers immediately subdued the ugly policeman who drew his gun but was too slow to make a difference. He let out a yelp as the officers slammed him face first into the table before putting him in handcuffs. Greissha would have screamed "Hurray!" upon seeing the policeman in such a helpless state. He deserved all the pain he could get.
But with her head spinning, and her ears ringing, Greissha had no idea what was going on.
Every scene was a complete blur for her as if watching a scene while submerged underwater. All voices were muffled like a bubbling brook, and faces were all distorted like a colorless impressionist painting.
Strangely enough, there was one face, and one voice that stood out from that hazy dream.
Amidst her fading consciousness, inside that dark interrogation room—literally out of nowhere, emerged a man so beautiful she felt contentment while dying.
"Greissha!" the handsome man called her name, his voice too fitting to his appearance, she feared this was all but a dream.
What a heavenly way to die, Greissha thought, until the beautiful man's face slowly morphed into the person she hated most.
"Jinno?" her last words were loathsome, "Even in death you ruin everything for me, you bastard."
And then, darkness.