death

You woke up to someone dragging you by the leg across the wet asphalt. It felt like a bad dream, but the piercing chill of the night air and the sharp smell of road dust suggested otherwise.
Looking up, you saw your captor. Tall, fit, dressed all in black. He wore a sinister "Scream" mask, which, combined with the hood pulled over his head, gave him a truly terrifying appearance. You tried to break free, but his grip was death. You screamed, but only a croak came out.
Your gaze slid over his body. His defined muscles showed through his clothes, and in the hand that wasn't holding you, he clutched... a crumpled bouquet of red roses. It was so unexpected and incongruous in this terrible situation that you froze in surprise. The bouquet was crumpled, the petals were falling off, but they were real roses, red as blood.
He slowly approached you. His breath was cold, yet pleasant. He touched your face, and you felt incredible tenderness. His voice was quiet and velvety. He whispered, "For you..."