"Hey Janette, long time no see." A man leaned on a bar counter, whispering in a seductive and soft voice.

Janette rolled her eyes in annoyance. "For the last time... Get lost Harry."

"Come on, don't be so cold. We go way back, don't we?" Harry said with a laugh, his gaze swept over Janette. The bar was oddly hushed, nothing like the usual crowded and loud atmosphere.

Janette crossed her arms and leaned back against the bar, her icy stare fixed on Harry. "Way back? More like a distant memory I'd rather forget," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry chuckled, undeterred by Janette's cold demeanor. "Oh, come on, Janette. You can't deny the unforgettable moments we've shared," he said, wagging his eyebrows playfully.

Janette maintained her cold exterior, refusing to show any hint of amusement. She narrowed her eyes at Harry, her voice laced with frost.

"Harry, you clearly have a selective memory. Those 'unforgettable' moments you speak of were nothing more than a series of embarrassing disasters that I had the misfortune of being dragged into."

Harry's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, undeterred by Janette's frosty response. "Come on, Janette, lighten up. Life's too short to take everything so seriously. You need a little adventure in your life."

Janette scoffed, a wave of irritation washing over her. "Adventure? More like a never-ending cycle of chaos and humiliation. I prefer stability and order, Harry, something you seem to have no concept of."

Harry leaned back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression. "You know, Janette, you're right. Stability and order are overrated. But chaos? Chaos is where the fun begins! Embrace the unexpected, and you'll discover a world full of surprises."

Janette's cold stare intensified, her voice turning icy. "Surprises? Like the time you thought it would be amusing to release a bunch of frogs into my apartment? Or when you 'accidentally' set fire to my favorite dress during a failed cooking experiment? Those were not pleasant surprises, Harry. They were simply infuriating."

Harry scratched his head, trying to hide his sheepish grin. "Well, they were memorable, weren't they? You have to admit, my antics make life more interesting." Janette's patience wore thin, her tone sharp. "Interesting? No, Harry, your antics make life unbearable."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "You haven't changed a bit, Janette. Still cold as ice."

The silence that hung between them grew thicker, until Janette realized they were the only ones left in the bar. The only sounds she could hear were the ticking of the clock, their breathing, and…CRASH!

The door burst open, startling Janette. She turned her head to see who had entered, while Harry kept his gaze fixed on her.

Several men in hoods entered the bar, brandishing their weapons menacingly. They scanned the dimly lit room with predatory grins, some of them making catcalls at Janette.

"Janette, you're the only woman who can resist me. Your coldness drives me crazy, but also—"

"—Harry, what's going on here?" Janette cut him off, her voice was sharp as a blade, her eyes piercing him with a cold stare.

Harry glanced at the intruders, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he composed himself. He took a step closer to Janette, his voice low and urgent.

"Janette, we don't have much time. These men are after something I have. Something powerful. They think you can help them get it."

Janette's eyes narrowed, her demeanor shifting from coldness to determination. She had long suspected that Harry was involved in dangerous dealings, but she had never imagined it would lead to a situation like this.

"Harry, what have you gotten yourself into?" she demanded, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and worry.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "It's complicated, Janette. But right now, we need to focus on getting out of here alive."

The men approached them, their leering gazes fixed on Janette. She refused to let fear overtake her, channeling her inner strength. She stood tall, her gaze unyielding, ready to face whatever came their way.

As the leader of the hooded men stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips, Janette's voice cut through the tension.

"I don't know who you are or what you want, but you won't find what you're looking for here," she declared, her tone carrying a note of defiance.

The leader chuckled darkly, his eyes locked on Janette. "We'll see about that, my dear. You have something that belongs to us, and we won't leave empty-handed."

With a swift motion, Janette reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved a small, glimmering object. She held it up, the light catching its intricate design—a key.

"This?" Janette raised an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "This is what you're after? It's useless without the knowledge of how to wield its power."

The leader's expression faltered for a moment, his confidence wavering. Janette took advantage of the opening and continued.

"You think you're the only ones seeking its power? You're not the first, and you won't be the last. But trust me when I say this: you don't want to unleash what lies within."

A ripple of uncertainty passed through the hooded men. Janette's words held a weight they hadn't anticipated, and a seed of doubt sprouted within their minds.

Harry, seizing the opportunity, spoke up. "She's right. We've seen what this key can do in the wrong hands. It's a Pandora's box, a force that can consume everything."

The tension in the room shifted, as the intruders hesitated, their eyes darting between Janette and Harry. Moments stretched into an agonizing silence.

Then, without warning, a deafening explosion rocked the bar. Shards of glass and debris flew through the air, scattering in all directions. The walls trembled, and darkness engulfed the room.

In the chaos, Janette grabbed Harry's hand, her voice cutting through the cacophony. "We need to go. Now!"

With adrenaline coursing through their veins, they navigated through the smoke-filled room, stepping over fallen furniture and broken glass. As they reached the back exit, they burst through the door into the night, leaving behind the chaos and danger that had consumed the bar.

The two ran in silence, only sound of their shoes clicking against the concrete echoing in the desolate alleys.

"I am done with you, Harry. Every time we meet, you bring troubles upon me."

Janette hissed coldly, plucking away her arm that was tightly held by Harry's hand.

"Indeed." however something about him had changed, and Janette felt it clearly.

"But, with trouble, I brought many unforgettable pleasures and memories too, didn't I?"

He pushed her into the wall of the alley, closing the little gap between them.

"Definitely not pleasure," Janette replied, a bit hesistant.

She could feel his breath on her neck and she shivered.

"Sure sure..." Harry answered back nonchalantly as he brung his face closer to Janette. He smiled wickedly and moved his hand to her waist.

"Harry Cullin, that's enough..." She tried to push him away, but he was too strong.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Harry trying to kiss her and Janette resisting. She felt trapped and helpless. She wished someone would come and save her. Suddenly, Harry stepped back with his eyes wide open. He looked terrified and confused.

"G-Gah!" He tightly grabbed his chest as he gasped for air. He coughed up blood and staggered.

"H-Harry?" Janette asked, alarmed.

Something was horribly wrong.

At all the sudden, Harry collapses to the floor. His eyes were still open, but lifeless.

"I-it worked... The book actually worked..." A boy with his school uniform commented from far. He had been watching them from behind a dumpster. He held a strange black book and a pen in his hands. He had written Harry's name in the book. He couldn't believe it was real.

Janette in response quickly knelt down and shakes Harry's body as she screamed out his name.

"Harry! What's wrong!" She felt for a pulse, but there was none.

Even though Janette is good towards Harry, they were still friends, at least. She cared about him, in her own way. Janette looked around and his eyes met with the boy. He looked guilty and scared. He realized he had made a terrible mistake. In a panic, he turned and darted away from there.

"Who are you? What have you done?" Janette shouted, her voice filled with anguish and rage as she locked eyes with the boy.

The boy stumbled, his face pale with fear. "I-I didn't mean for this to happen. I... I had this book, and I thought it was just a prank..."

"A prank?" Janette's voice trembled with a mix of sorrow and anger. "Do you understand what you've done? You've taken a life!"

Tears welled up in Janette's eyes as she continued to cradle Harry's lifeless body. The weight of the situation crashed upon her, and the coldness she had once carried seemed to melt away, replaced by raw grief.

"You need to undo this!" Janette demanded, her voice now filled with desperation.

The boy stammered, his hands trembling. "I... I don't know if I can. I never expected it to actually work. I just... I wanted to scare him, that's all."

Janette's voice cracked as she pleaded, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and hope. "Please, there must be something you can do. Bring him back!"

The boy hesitated, his guilt etched across his face. "I'll try... I'll try to find a way, but I don't know if it's possible. I'm sorry, I never wanted any of this to happen."

With those words, the boy turned and fled, disappearing into the darkness, leaving Janette alone with Harry's lifeless body.

Janette held onto Harry, her tears falling freely. In the wake of this tragedy, the coldness that had defined her seemed to crumble, revealing a vulnerable, grief-stricken woman. She whispered to the lifeless form in her arms, her voice filled with regret.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for everything. I never meant for it to end like this."

As the night enveloped them, Janette clung to the memories she had shared with Harry, her heart heavy with sorrow and the weight of what could never be undone.

Meanwhile, the boy ran as fast as he could, clutching the book to his chest. He felt a surge of panic and guilt as he heard Janette's cries behind him. How could he have taken a human life so casually? The boy questioned himself as he dashed through the dark streets, until his lungs burned and his legs gave out. He opened the book again and collapsed on the cold pavement, leaning against a graffiti-covered wall.

"H-Harry Cullin…" He murmured as his finger traced the letters on the page, feeling their roughness. "…!" The boy suddenly yanked out an eraser from his pocket and scraped it over the name that was on the book.

He rubbed it with force but no matter how hard or how long he rubbed, the name remained.

"Go away, please… Go away!" He muttered in despair.

A chuckle dripping with menace and foreboding tickled his ear. His stomach dropped as, with a deathly wail, he turned towards person, the thing, the monster who laughed at his plight.

No one, not a soul in sight.

He was going mad, that must be it. He must be--

The chuckle came back, and a breath that smelled of sulfur and death licked his nape.

He turned around again, and his pupils dilated in abject terror.

A boy whose expression was as a doll, with eyes dipped in the murkiest of black, stared at him. Ink spilled from his lips, dripping from his chin like a noisy faucet and wetting the grimy pavement in a pool of darkness.

The boy couldn't cry, couldn't scream, he couldn't even take his eyes away from the monstrosity.

Its forehead began to crack, as though its flesh was made of porcelain and its blood tar, and these cracks weren't random. They formed words.

Harry Cullin.