[Third Person Pov]
It was late into the night as a bus rumbled through Star City, its heavy frame rattling softly as it traveled along the dimly lit streets. The glow of streetlamps reflected faintly off its windows as it approached the lonely bus stop. A woman standing beneath the flickering overhead light let out a quiet sigh of relief once she saw it coming. Her shoulders sagged as if an invisible weight had finally been lifted, and she stepped forward from her place on the curb, waiting patiently for it to come to a complete stop.
The doors parted with a sharp and almost ominous hiss, the sound cutting cleanly through the quiet of the night. Sitting behind the wheel was a rather short, pot-bellied man wearing a transit uniform. His cap was tilted low, covering his eyes almost completely, obscuring his expression and making him appear detached. He didn't greet her, didn't even acknowledge her presence, merely sitting there in stillness.
The woman stepped inside and inserted her bus card into the device, the machine letting out a soft electronic chime as it accepted her fare. Once finished, she turned toward the interior of the bus and immediately noticed how empty it was. The rows of seats stretched out in quiet stillness, vacant and untouched, except for a single passenger sitting all the way in the back.
She wore a long red coat that draped down past her knees, the fabric rich and striking even in the dim lighting. A large hat rested atop her head, its wide brim covering most of her face in shadow. Her legs were crossed neatly, her posture relaxed, composed, and almost unnaturally still.
The woman paid her no mind and walked forward, her heels making soft, hollow sounds against the floor as she moved toward one of the empty seats. Had she looked behind her, she would have noticed in the reflection of the rearview mirror the lone passenger and the driver both slowly lifting their heads, examining her carefully. Beneath the shadow of their hats, their eyes glowed faintly green, flickering with quiet interest.
Unaware of the silent attention fixed upon her, the woman sat down in a three-row seat near the middle of the bus. She placed her bag beside her and leaned her head back against the cold window, letting out a tired sigh as she gripped her shoulders. Her face carried the unmistakable expression of exhaustion, her eyes heavy, her body aching from the weight of a long and unforgiving day.
"Tired?"
Clarissa jolted violently at the sudden voice beside her, her entire body stiffening as shock shot through her like electricity. "Jesus fucking Christ!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp and breathless as she turned her head.
Sitting right beside her was the woman from the back of the bus.
Clarissa hadn't heard her move. Hadn't seen her approach. One moment she had been alone, and now she wasn't.
The lady in red laughed softly behind her hand, the sound warm and melodic. "Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to scare you."
She reached up and removed her hat, revealing bright red hair streaked with vibrant orange. The strands curved upward slightly, shaped almost like horns, giving her an appearance that was both striking and strangely unnatural.
"Where are my manners," she continued smoothly. "The name's Spectra." She extended her hand.
"Uhh… Clarissa," she muttered, still staring at the bizarre hairdo with confusion and disbelief as she hesitantly reached out and shook her hand. Spectra's grip was gentle, yet deliberate, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
"Tough day of work?" Spectra asked, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.
Clarissa let out a tired scoff, her head falling back slightly. "You couldn't imagine the half of it. I got signed to overtime to cover the mistake of one of my colleagues. It was torture." The frustration in her voice spilled out before she could stop herself, the words escaping like steam from a cracked valve.
"Oh, you poor thing," Spectra said, her voice filled with what appeared to be genuine sympathy. "I'm sure it must have been exhausting. When was the last time you had a proper rest?"
"Rest?" Clarissa scoffed again, shaking her head weakly. "I couldn't even tell you if I tried. Even on my days off I have kids to look after, a house to take care of. It's all sometimes too much."
She didn't know why she was opening up to her. This was a stranger. Someone she had never met before. And yet, something about Spectra made it feel easy. Safe. Like she was meant to listen.
Spectra herself hid her smile carefully, her expression remaining soft and compassionate on the surface. 'Yes… that's right, she thought. Open your heart to me. Let me inside. I'll give you the rest you need.'
"Seriously?" Spectra asked gently. "What about your husband? Surely he helps you out with the chores and the kids?"
Clarissa let out an irritated grunt. "Ugh, don't even get me started. He can't even pick up after himself, much less handle house chores."
Spectra tilted her body toward Clarissa completely, giving her her full, undivided attention. Her arm rested along the back of the seat, her head leaning lightly against her fist as she listened intently.
"Doing everything by yourself…" Spectra murmured softly. "How exhausting. When was the last time you even received a single thank you? Or appreciation for your hard work?"
Clarissa froze.
Her breathing hitched.
"I… I don't know…" she whispered. "I can't remember."
"Seriously?" Spectra leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a near whisper, her breath warm against Clarissa's ear. "Not your coworkers? Your boss? Your husband? Have your children even thanked you for everything you've sacrificed for them?"
Clarissa's eyes trembled violently. Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, opening and closing her mouth uselessly as she searched desperately for an answer that refused to come. When none did, tears began to spill down her face, hot and unstoppable, a choked sob escaping her throat.
Spectra gently rubbed her back in slow, comforting circles.
"You poor thing," she whispered softly. "You're being taken advantage of, and you don't even realize it."
Clarissa covered her face with her hands as her body folded forward, her shoulders shaking as quiet sobs overtook her completely.
"What's the point of everything," Spectra continued, her voice dripping with honeyed sweetness despite the poison hidden beneath it, "if you don't even get a single ounce of gratitude from the people around you?"
As she continued to rub her back, something began to change.
A faint purple mist started to rise slowly from Clarissa's back, barely visible at first. It curled upward in thin, delicate strands, twisting and coiling like smoke. The mist gathered above them, thickening gradually, swirling and expanding into something heavier, darker.
Like a storm cloud forming silently in the night.
"Is that the kind of life you want?" Spectra asked softly, her eyes drifting upward toward the cloud forming above them, a pleasurable grin slowly spreading across her lips. "A life where you exist only for the pleasure and convenience of others?"
Clarissa's shoulders trembled violently as her sobbing intensified, her hands clutched helplessly against her face as her composure completely unraveled. "Ahhh—it's not!" she cried out, her voice cracking under the weight of her pain. "I hate it! Ahh, that isn't what I want!" Her breathing came out in broken gasps, each word dragged painfully from her chest. "That is far from what I want! Ahaaaaa!"
Spectra's grin deepened as she listened, savoring every fragment of emotion pouring out of her.
"Would they even realize if you were gone?" Spectra continued in a low, soothing whisper. "Would they finally be grateful then? Everyone's taking you for granted. Don't you want it to be over? Don't you want to finally rest? To shut your eyes… and sleep?"
Behind her trembling hands, Clarissa's eyes began to lose their light. The natural luster within them dulled gradually, fading into something empty and hollow. Her cheeks were soaked with tears, her face flushed with grief and exhaustion.
"Yes," she croaked hoarsely, her voice barely audible. "I just want to rest. I want to sleep… and just never wake up from this nightmare."
Spectra's lips curled into a malicious, monstrous grin, barely restrained behind her calm exterior.
"Yes," she whispered seductively, her voice wrapping around Clarissa like a velvet chain. "You deserve it. After everything, you deserve to rest. To finally be lifted from the responsibility of others."
Clarissa nodded weakly, her movements dull and mechanical, as if the strength to resist had already been taken from her. Her mind clung desperately to Spectra's words, embracing them as truth.
Spectra watched carefully as the stream of emotional energy rising from Clarissa began to thin. She had taken everything. Every ounce of despair, exhaustion, resentment, love, hope, and will. She had stripped her bare, hollowing her out piece by piece until nothing remained.
Clarissa was no longer a person.
She was a husk of herself.
Clarissa slowly reached upward and pressed the stop button. The soft chime echoed faintly through the bus as she rose to her feet.
"Huh?" Spectra asked, tilting her head slightly, suppressing the twitching smile threatening to reveal itself. "Where are you going?"
Clarissa clutched her bag tightly against her chest. She turned toward Spectra and gave her a small, empty smile. There was no warmth behind it. No life.
"I'm going to go and rest," she said. Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion, containing nothing except the echo of her exhaustion.
Spectra nodded gently. "Sure, dear. Go. You've earned it."
"Thank you, Spectra," Clarissa said quietly. "Thank you for opening my eyes."
"Any time, dear," Spectra replied, her smile warm, kind, and simply sincere.
The bus came to a stop with a low mechanical hiss, and the doors opened. Clarissa stepped off with unsteady, wavering steps.
The bus doors closed behind her, and the vehicle began moving once more.
From the driver's seat, Bertrand watched through the side mirror as distance grew between them and her shrinking figure.
Clarissa stood at the roadside, her head lowered, her grip tightening around her bag. Cars passed by in a steady stream, their headlights flashing past her unmoving form.
She didn't hesitate.
She stepped forward directly into oncoming traffic.
A car failed to stop in time.
The impact came with a sickening force, her body thrown violently into the air. Her bag flew from her grasp, tumbling uselessly away as her body struck the asphalt hard. Blood spilled from the wound on her head and the rest of her body, spreading slowly across the pavement, her limbs scraped and broken.
Her breathing was labored and uneven, each inhale weaker than the last. Her vision darkened, the world fading into shadow as her head lolled limply to the side.
Her breathing slowed.
Then stopped entirely.
Inside the bus, Bertrand shifted his gaze forward, returning his attention to the road. Neither he nor Spectra reacted to the distant sounds of screaming or the frantic honking of horns behind them, as if none of it concerned them.
Spectra's full attention remained fixed on the cloud of pink energy hovering above her. It pulsed gently, alive with the remnants of Clarissa's emotions.
She reached up and tore a portion of it free, guiding it through the air toward the driver's seat.
"Your payment, Bertrand," she said smoothly. "What a good haul today was."
Bertrand's grin widened. "Thank you for your generosity, my lady."
They absorbed the energy into themselves, their bodies shuddering as the power flowed through them. A wave of ecstasy and euphoria washed over Spectra, her breath catching as warmth spread throughout her entire being.
"Aww~" she moaned softly, her face flushed. "What pleasure… what power~ I'm becoming addicted to this feeling. One more, Bertrand. We'll do one more before calling it a night. This has been such a fruitful endeavor."
"Ahhh, it certainly has been," Bertrand replied, pressing his foot down slightly as the bus accelerated toward the next stop.
As he rounded the corner and he passed by a few extra empty bus stops and after the 3rd one a bus sign came into view, his grin returned when he saw someone waiting there.
A new victim.
A new vessel to drain and empty.
A boy leaned against the bus stop pole, his head tilted downward, his eyes closed. His snow-white hair fell forward, covering part of his face.
The bus came to a stop, and the doors opened with a hiss.
The boy exhaled slowly. A faint blue mist escaped between his lips, dissolving into the night air.
He lifted his head.
His eyes glowed faintly green.
He stepped inside.
The doors closed behind him.
He walked forward calmly and stopped beside the fare machine. He began patting his pockets casually before snapping his fingers in realization.
He turned his head toward Spectra and let out a quiet sigh. "Darn," he said flatly. "Looks like I left my bus card inside my other pants."
He shrugged dismissively. "Oh well."
His expression hardened instantly.
The air around him shifted violently as his aura spiked, pressure filling the bus like an invisible storm. The green glow in his eyes intensified, burning brighter with something cold and lethal.
"Luckily for me," he said quietly, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous, "I'm not here to pay fares… I'm here to collect debts. And you owe Death and the families of your victims a lot"
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