disclaimer: this is a part TWO which means that there is a part one and it will be much use to read that before coming here. Thank you :)

GISELLE POV:

The visions had always been there. Well, not quite visions, but it was a strange phenomenon. Every night I drept of different things, but it felt as if they were connected by some distant source. I could never, however, find out what that source was. It reminded me of tragedy, heartbreak. It made me uncomfortable but I could never piece the puzzle together.
Last night another occurred. It was this women, it sounded as if she was speaking to some unknown entity. I knew she wasn't going mad though, I heard it too. Ever so faintly but I heard it. His voice rings in my ears every night. I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of it. He always spoke so nonchalant, uncaring about people's ultimate fates. He addressed himself as death, so I called him that. Although, I don't think he was joking around.

I know that these past deaths have a connection to this. On the news, murder after murder case filled the trending page. It frustrated me to my core knowing that this person was behind it, but what could I do? Tell the cops? Obviously not. By the amount of shows and dramas I have watched, telling cops direct information about a killer is a one way ticket to you being a prime suspect. Would they honestly believe that I could hear their last conversations in the middle of the night WHILE asleep?

So this is my life, now. I live and listen to other people die in the night. Have I gotten used to it? Never, I just grew numb to it.
Kelsea doesn't know. My mom didn't believe me until she saw the news the next day, then she became a victim herself. My dad was gone a long time ago. Nobody knows. Nobody should know. Nobody should know I didn't intervene.

Kelsea texted me earlier. It is now 6:30 PM and I am preparing for this god forsaken blind date. She set an appointment up at 6:40 for my hair and I offered to do my make up myself. I don't like chalky make up. That's always what they do to me in the salon. Doll me up as if I'm some elegant young lady when really, that is far from the truth. My only mission now is for this dude to leave my best friend alone. I need to make sure he doesn't come crawling back like the slimy gumball he is. (gumball because he is gross, gets old fast, and sticks to everyone's shoes).

I finished powdering my face, encouraging myself to smile, but not the kind of smile that boys flaunt over. I practiced my pokerface. No matter how handsome he was, he wasn't MY date. I made sure to perfect my smirks and disgusted, but trying to be supportive, smiles. I was an actress for my own convenience. It was handy in bad situations.

—

My hair, make up, and outfit looked picture perfect, which was kind of annoying considering I was going to have to be my worst to get this guy away. Unfortunate that I couldn't embrace myself in this lovely uniform.

Kelsea updated me on his information. He seemed okay, but you can never tell someone's true intentions just from a picture. That's the catch that other ladies don't see. And just as expected, he was a cocky asshole.

"You look. . . Different." He pointed out the obvious. I held my breath to stop a sarcastic comment. I couldn't be too rude. I held my act strong.

"What picture did you see? Did my daddy show you a bad photo of me? You know, he's never been a good photographer."

I played the part of the damsel in distress. Better for them to latch on so I could snap their ego in half at the end. It was entertaining for me to see their sorry asses get whipped.

"No. . It's okay. Why don't you have a seat. I can fetch us a menu."

"Oh, okay then."

He started up small talk. He wasn't acting too different from the other hundred guys I was coerced into playing. He did seem confident though. That kind of concerned me, but also gave me some reassurance knowing It would be easier for him to hate me then to fall head over heels for me.

The conversation reached higher lengths, each sentence he spat out blending in with the next. I was just barely holding onto my sanity. Ugh, the things I do for you, Kelsea. He was so boring and it was already 8 o'clock. I wanted to leave, so I excused myself to the washroom.

"Okay, Giselle, get yourself together! Just five more minutes with this moron and then you can go home. Just reject him already!"

"Are you okay, Miss? You have been in there for quite a while."

UGH. This asshole even followed me outside of the bathroom.




Hiii Its been a while but I got bored so I added another part to Death's messenger! Lmk if you want a pt. 3
© Tannni