*Chapter 7: The Beginning *

“Damn it…”

“F*** you! You’re a car, not a pile of junk. Start already!”

Inside the car, Anthony’s face, with its brown skin, was still flushed from a previous argument.

He twisted the key, but no matter how hard he tried, the car refused to start. Frustrated, he cursed under his breath.

“I’ve told you this before, Anthony…”

Sitting in the passenger seat, his girlfriend, Mary, glared at him. Her tone was sharp and mocking as she sneered, “Stop driving this piece of junk. Do you even know how many girls laugh at me behind my back because of this car? And now we’re using it to escape? Seriously, what was I thinking when I agreed to be with you?”

“Maybe because both your eyes were blind.”

Anthony shot back, his gaze briefly flicking to Mary’s prominent, full lips that revealed her African heritage. His tone was hostile.

“How dare you, Anthony? How dare you!”

Mary’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her heavily powdered face looked even more exaggerated as she jabbed her pink-polished finger at him, screeching.

“Don’t forget—you had a share of that money too. It was you who pushed me to keep it, and now look where we are!”

“…”

Mary’s words made Anthony pause, but only briefly. Her overbearing attitude faltered as she mumbled, shrinking back into the passenger seat.

“How was I supposed to know they’d come for the money so quickly? They’re rich—they don’t even need that much. Why would they…”

Anthony was all too familiar with Mary’s foolishness. She was a vain woman, and if not for her curvaceous figure that appealed to him, he would have kicked her out long ago.

The only reason he brought her along was the fear that if she got caught, she’d sell him out in a heartbeat.

Ignoring her complaints, Anthony bent over, carefully twisting the key in the ignition.

Vroom… vroom… vroom…  

The engine finally roared to life, and a relieved smile spread across Anthony’s dark brown face.

He slammed on the gas. The car’s tires screeched against the pavement, their sound piercing the quiet night of the Compton neighborhood.

Yet, not a single person came out to investigate.

It was clear that the locals were long accustomed to such disturbances.

“Anthony! Why didn’t you warn me before starting the car?”

Inside the car, Mary yelped as the sudden acceleration threw her back against the seat. She turned to Anthony, complaining loudly, but he completely ignored her.

The abrupt movement caused the suitcase they had hurriedly tossed into the back seat to tumble open. Clothes stuffed haphazardly inside spilled across the car, leaving the space a chaotic mess. Among the fallen items, a black music box rolled out, seemingly by chance, and struck Mary’s head.

“Ow!”

This time, her cries of pain were genuine.

“Anthony! It hit me! I’m bleeding! Oh no, my face—I’ll be disfigured! Take me to the hospital, Anthony!”

“Shut up, Mary!” Anthony snapped.

“We’re on the run, not on vacation. And don’t forget—your health insurance expired a year ago. Even if we go to a hospital, you can’t afford the treatment.”

He glanced at her bleeding forehead and casually grabbed a random piece of clothing from the pile in the back seat, tossing it at her. “Use this to stop the bleeding for now. I’ll treat it once we’re safe.”

Mary’s indignation momentarily subsided as the pain distracted her, but her face twisted in disgust at the sight of the dirty shirt Anthony had thrown her way. “No way! I’d rather die than put this filthy thing on my head!”

“Then go rummage in the back for something you like. I don’t have time for your nonsense. If we get caught, you’ll be dead no matter what you want.”

The car filled with the sound of their renewed bickering.

Neither of them noticed the real culprit behind their argument. The black music box, now stained with Mary’s blood, began to change. The crimson liquid darkened and dried at an unnatural speed, becoming nearly invisible as tiny black dots. From the cracks in the box, a faint glow of blood-red light seeped out.

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“Finally… it’s starting.”

In his apartment, Allen watched everything unfold on a fragmented system panel. A look of anticipation spread across his face.

As someone who had gone through the rigorous screenwriting processes of Hollywood, Allen was well-versed in crafting the build-up before the main story began.

What was once routine for him as a writer now became agonizingly slow in real life.

Especially since the two main characters in this story weren’t exactly photogenic.

Mary’s thick lips and Anthony’s brown skin might align with Hollywood’s “political correctness,” showcasing America’s diversity and inclusion.

But there was no denying that their actual appearances were far from attractive.

Thankfully, the cringeworthy introductory scenes were over.

Now, the story was entering its most crucial phase—the part Allen was most eager to witness.

“Let me see it all unfold,” he muttered.

“The beginning of a mysterious, eerie world…”

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In the apartment, as Allen’s words faded, the system screen showed the music box in the car abruptly open.

Creak… creak…  

The sound of its gears turning was soon followed by the haunting melody of Für Elise.

The music flowed through the car, quiet and melancholic.

Yet, neither Anthony nor the incessantly complaining Mary seemed to hear it.

Their argument and the music existed as if in two entirely separate worlds.

The air turned cold and unsettling.

(End of Chapter)

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