D.P.S DEATH PREVENTION SQUAD "DEATH HAND"

### Chapter 1

The city was draped in an eternal twilight, its streets slick with the remnants of a rainstorm that had long since passed. Neon lights flickered over grime-coated sidewalks, spilling a kaleidoscope of color onto the asphalt. In this labyrinthine world, shadows danced beneath the glow, harbingers of secrets and sinister whispers that filled the night air. It was the perfect setting for someone like Alex Voss, an agent of the Death Prevention Squad, where the line between life and death blurred like smoke in the air.

Tonight, the air was thick with urgency.

Alex stood at the entrance of The Abyss, a low-lit bar nestled in an alleyway where the hopeless mingled with the hopeful, each nursing their own cocktail of despair. It was here that they would meet their latest client—a mother desperate to save her child. The thought twisted in their gut like a knife, cutting deeper with each step inside.

A saxophonist crooned a mournful rendition of a forgotten lullaby as they navigated through a crowd of patrons roiling with laughter and sorrow—the kind that only came at the expense of someone else's misery. Sam, the bartender, lifted an eyebrow at Alex, his usual grin replaced by a knowing smirk. "Another one, eh? You're getting popular with the wrong crowd."

Alex waved a hand dismissively, already scanning the room for her. It didn't take long before they spotted Maya Lopez, hunched over a table in the back, her fingers clenched around a whiskey glass, knuckles white against the dark mahogany. Her eyes were red, rimmed with exhaustion and lined with something darker than fatigue—a spark of desperation that set off alarm bells in Alex's mind.

"Ms. Lopez?" Alex approached cautiously, the gravity of the situation settling over them like a heavy shroud. "I'm Alex Voss from the D.P.S."

Maya looked up, a flicker of hope mingling with apprehension. "You're here to help, right?"

Taking a seat across from her, Alex offered a reassuring smile, though it faltered under the weight of her gaze. "We're going to do everything we can. Tell me what's going on."

Maya took a deep breath, and Alex could almost hear the tremor in her heart. "My son, Leo… he's sick. I was told he has less than an hour—"

"—until the Collector comes to collect," Alex finished, their voice low. "I know how this works."

The mention of the Collector sent a shiver through Maya, her eyes darting around as if expecting him to materialize from the shadows any moment. "I heard stories," she whispered, lowering her voice. "That he takes his payment—no matter what."

Alex nodded, feeling that familiar pang of guilt ripple through them. In a world where life was a gamble and death dealt the cards, the Collector was both the dealer and the house. "What have you thought of trading?"

"I'll give anything!" Maya exclaimed, slamming her fist on the table, startling nearby patrons. "My life, my soul, whatever it takes! He wants that boy, and I won't lose him!"

Calmness was essential in a situation like this. Alex leaned closer, keeping their voice steady, "Payment isn't just about what you're willing to trade, but what the Collector is willing to accept. I need you to think this through. Sometimes, a deal with Death comes with unexpected strings."

Maya drew in a sharp breath, the tears spilling over. "I have nothing left! Please, I can't let him take Leo." Her voice cracked like the glass she clutched, her vulnerability laid bare in the dim light.

A quiet determination ignited within Alex. They had made a career of dancing with Death, and now it was time to pull out the big moves. "Okay, here's what we can do. We'll set up a meeting with the Collector. I'll negotiate for your son's life, but you need to trust me. Do you understand?"

Maya nodded slowly, hope flickering in her eyes again. But beneath that flicker was fear—a fear that the sands of time were slipping away.

As Alex prepared to draw up the terms of their negotiations, a surge of adrenaline coursed through their veins. They would keep this family together, even if it meant playing with forces that defied understanding. The stakes were high, and their methods had often crossed lines, but they had to defy the odds this time.

"We'll start with an offer," Alex said, pen poised, ready to draft the beginnings of a lifeline. "What are you willing to risk?"

Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped as shadows elongated, spilling into new shapes around the edges of the dim bar. The atmosphere shifted, laden with unspoken promises and threats. The Collector had arrived, an intangible presence that sent chills down Alex's spine.

A figure draped in an inky cloak materialized at the entrance, face obscured under a wide-brimmed hat. The bar fell silent, conversations halting abruptly, and patrons blended into the shadows, as if willingly surrendering their lives to the void. Eyes, glinting like shards of glass, bored into Alex, who could almost hear the whispers that slithered through the air like smoke.

"Ah, Voss," the Collector's voice was smooth yet chilling, gliding over the room like a thin film of ice. "I've been waiting for you."

The room seemed to narrow, the weight of those words settling heavily on Alex's shoulders. Tonight would not just be another case—it would be a reckoning. A negotiation that could blur the very fabric of existence.

"Let's talk," Alex said, their heart pounding in rhythm with the inevitabilities that lay ahead. In the delicate balance of life and death, every breath counted, and the clock was ticking.### Chapter 1 (Continued)

The Collector moved forward, a spectral silhouette among the vibrant bar hues, his presence demanding attention. Shadows draped him like a shroud, making it hard to discern where he ended and the darkness began. Alex felt the familiarity of dread tugging at their insides, a sensation that had accompanied them for years of negotiating with this enigmatic figure.

"Time is a luxury I cannot afford," the Collector said, his voice a velvety rasp, underscoring the urgency of the situation. "This young lad—" he turned his gaze toward Maya, "—he is on the brink. You know this. Yet, the more you beg, the more I assume you have little to offer in return."

Maya flinched at his words, her fingers trembling around the half-empty glass, but there was a spark in her eyes, a flicker of defiance. "I will do whatever it takes to save him. I've already lost too much. I can't lose Leo."

The Collector regarded her for a moment, his dark eyes glimmering like distant stars in a black void. "Then you should understand the rules of engagement. I am not here to barter dreams." He paused, allowing the chill of his statement to settle. "What is a mother's life worth? What can you sell that will equal the value of your dear child's breath?"

Alex leaned forward, adrenaline coursing through their veins. "You're not just a dealer of death; you're a businessman, and every business thrives on negotiations. Don't pretend you're not intrigued by something more than mere souls."

The Collector's lips curled slightly, a ghost of a smile that sent a shiver down Alex's spine. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Voss. You of all people should know the stakes." His tone shifted, becoming a knife-edge. "But I am curious—what have you brought to the table?"

With a flick of their wrist, Alex summoned a stack of neatly printed documents from their briefcase—a contract designed to delay the imminent death of a soul. "We could start with an offer of extended time. I can assure you it will not go unnoticed."

Maya looked from Alex to the Collector, her expression caught between hope and fear. "What do you mean? You can negotiate for time?"

Alex nodded. "I know how this works. We will find a way to barter for Leo's life, pushing back the clock for a moment. That's our initial offer."

The Collector's interest piqued, the shadows around him deepening. "There's a catch, is there not? What makes your attempt worth my attention? I enjoy the thrill of the game, and yet, your moves are predictable."

Alex was acutely aware of the truth in those words. The Collector was far too seasoned a player to fall for easy tricks. "I'm willing to risk something no one has before—my own position within the D.P.S. Consider the precedent it would set. A deal that puts a D.P.S. agent's life on the table for a child's future? It would shake the very foundations of your domain."

Maya shot Alex a worried glance, the color draining from her face. "No, Alex, you can't! I won't let you risk yourself! We can find another way!"

But Alex could see it—a flicker of intrigue sparking in the Collector's eyes, a flicker that grew brighter at Maya's protests. "Ah, but therein lies the beauty of bargaining," the Collector said, his voice low and condescending. "You're providing a sense of hopelessness, and in that despair, there is potential. The more you are willing to sacrifice, the more conflicted I become. I appreciate a good internal struggle."

The weight of his scrutiny bore down on Alex. Their heart pounded against their ribcage. This was madness, yet they had always known that this life was a descent into chaos—that every deal was a gamble.

"I'll give you a year," the Collector offered, voice crisp, "in exchange for your life."

Maya cried out, "No!"

And yet as Alex crouched between fate and foreboding, their resolve crystallized. "Make it two," they demanded, finding strength in their own desperation. "Two years of debt on my life in exchange for Leo's. You've lost nothing with this arrangement, only gained a rare prize—the respect of your peers."

"Two years, on loan. A unique offer indeed, but it places both you and the mother in peril," the Collector said, gauging the ripple of unease that passed through them.

"What's your game?" Alex asked, countering the Collector's probing gaze. "What is it you truly hope to gain?"

The Collector leaned closer, an unsettling grin stretching across his shadowed features. "Power, dear Voss. Power drives this world, holds life in its grip. And souls, they are currency like any other. Your gamble may bring some gain, but be warned—the longer you strive to escape your fate, the tighter the noose will become. I'll revel in watching you try."

"Then I accept," Alex said, steeling themselves, heart drumming a furious beat as they extended their hand. "Let's make this official."

The Collector's grip was cold and clammy when they clasped hands, the sensation sending shockwaves down Alex's arm. In that moment, the air felt electric, as if the universe itself held its breath, teetering on the brink of an unseen abyss.

The contract was drawn up swiftly—a flick of parchment, etched in ink that seemed to shimmer with a life of its own. Alex could feel the weight of it, a binding force that intertwined their fate with the boy's. Maya looked on, both horrified and hopeful, as she breathed out the words that echoed with finality.

"Leo's life for yours."

As the ink dried, darkness pooled around the Collector, the shadows clawing at the edges of reality. "Then it is done," he intoned, eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "You have borrowed against the sands of time, Alex Voss. Now let's see how you use your gift."

He stepped back, fading into the gloom, leaving a charge of tension in the air, like the aftermath of an electric storm. The bar came back to life—a sudden chorus of laughter and talking that had been suspended in the wake of the Collector's presence.

Maya's breath hitched as reality crashed back in. "You did it. You really did it!" There was a tremor of disbelief, mingled emotions coiling tightly around hope and despair.

But as Alex pulled away from the table, a nagging sense of dread gnawed at them. The gamble had been struck, but at what price? The clock was ticking, and a two-year commitment dangled like a noose ready to wrap tightly around their neck.

With the echoes of the Collector's ominous words ringing in their ears, Alex knew they had only begun this perilous dance with Death, a dance that would unveil layers of sacrifice, manipulation, and moral ambiguity.

"Let's get your son to a hospital," Alex finally said, mind racing with what awaited them beyond this moment. The shadows whispered promises, taunting the tightrope between life and death, and Alex was just beginning to understand the true cost of surviving the impossible.

As they stepped into the night, the air was electric again, charged with consequence. The streets stretched ahead like an uncharted wilderness, and though Alex had forged a path against Death, they could feel the weight of the Collector's laughter echoing in the dark, forever reminding them that in this game, nothing was ever certain, and everything had its price.