Chapter 5-Wait, I've seen you before

Dante drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around him a haze of pain and confusion. He could hear voices, distant and muffled, as if they were coming from underwater. Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place, fragments of conversation filtering through his foggy mind.

"...offered us money..."

"...eliminate Dante..."

"...Heather had to ask him out..."

Dante's heart pounded in his chest as the words registered, his mind struggling to make sense of the horrifying truth. Malcolm, Heather's boyfriend, had been behind the attack, orchestrated by some mysterious figure who wanted him dead. But why? And why involve Heather in such a sinister plot?

As Malcolm and his cronies loaded Dante into a car, his body racked with pain, he strained to piece together the puzzle unfolding before him. Malcolm spoke in hushed tones to his friends, detailing the events that had led to this moment, but his words were vague and cryptic, leaving Dante with more questions than answers.

"Why did he have to ask her out in front of everyone?" one of Malcolm's friends asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Malcolm shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I don't know, man. But it doesn't matter now. We just have to finish the job and get rid of this guy."

Dante's mind raced as he struggled to make sense of the situation. Who was behind this plot, and why did they want him dead? And what role did Heather play in all of this? The pieces of the puzzle refused to fit together, leaving Dante feeling more lost and helpless than ever before.

As the car lurched into motion, Dante fought to stay conscious, his body wracked with pain. Each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the perilous situation he found himself in. But through the fog of agony, one thought burned bright in his mind:

He had to survive. He had to find out the truth. And he had to make those responsible for his suffering pay for what they had done.

Finally, the car screeched to a halt in a desolate alley in the industrial part of the city. With callous indifference, Malcolm and his accomplices dragged Dante from the vehicle, tossing him onto the cold, hard pavement like a discarded ragdoll.

Left to die slowly and painfully, Dante lay there, his breaths shallow and labored, his vision blurred with tears of pain and despair. But as darkness threatened to claim him, a sudden flash of light illuminated the alley, drawing his gaze towards its source.

And there she stood, the mysterious and eerily beautiful woman from his dreams, her presence both comforting and unsettling. Dante's heart pounded in his chest as he recognized her, the memories of their encounter flooding back with startling clarity.

She smiled at him, a smile that was both loving and possessive, her eyes sparkling with an otherworldly light. "You are mine," she whispered, her voice echoing in the empty alley. And with a blinding flash of light, Dante lost consciousness, his fate now intertwined with that of the mysterious woman who had appeared to him in his darkest hour.