PROLOGUE

As he waited outside; his hands slipped in its pocket, back leaned in, and unseen. His eyes looked around cautiously. As people walk across him, he would put his head down to prevent people seeing its face. It was night, and plain blackout for humans—mundane, but of course, he still could saw everything; the park, benches, people, and stores.

“You came.” A voice crept in, and the man straightened his position before he bowed to another man; he wore a hoodie, and there were tattoos hiding behind his black shining jacket. He looked up into the man’s eyes, it shone a bright yellow; his eyes were sharp as blade. His mouth twitched upward into a smile.

“Of course,” He put his hand on his shoulder before he twisted them. “I wouldn’t disappointed you, and you wouldn’t either. Am I right?”

“Yes, Master.” The other man said, bowed again, but this time shakier than the man itself would predict, actually, he never predicted this. The Master gave him a chuckle before he went silent.

“Okay, Mort. Listen to me carefully.” He took a step forward so they could listen to each other clearly. “Bring that girl to me. That is simple, right?”

“The girl…” Mort trailed off. “She has owned by shadowhunters.”

“Not,” The Master answered. “If you owned it first”

“That is pretty impossible.” He said, debating how he will fulfill his Master request. Just picturing it in his head was already impossible thing to do, and how he supposed to do it in real. He hadn’t figure it out, and he never expected that his Master would be hard on him.

The Master’s face did not show any symptoms of annoyed, instead he only smiled ever so cunning as he leaned over into Mort’s ear. “The Midnight’s child will save or destroy us; you don’t want to be destroyed right?”

“No w—“

“Soon,” He whispered silently before he stabbed Mort’s stomach with a shining, green knife he had kept in his pocket all this time. Mort’s stomach started to bleed green blood and he cried, but no one would hear it except the master itself. “The Child will save us.”

Mort slumped against the ground and disappeared through its ground, swallowed by the pavement. The Master laughed genuinely. He never let a bunch of sons of Nephilim would take what was him, and he would never allowed that. As far as he was concerned, they already took so many things from he wouldn’t let any of him take away. He shoved his knife into its pocket before he continued to walk in the aisle, looking around, and laughed again. People probably believed that he was crazy, and he was. His morality was unquestionable because it wasn't there at all. Soon, he was gone into a thin air.

Hey, this is the prologue and this will reveal throughout the story. This is not enticing, I know, but at least please ought to the first chapter hehehehet. Okay, bye!