Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 18: Barracuda

Hey guys, sorry I've updated this same chapter like 70 times LMFAO. The format is really messed up and everything was squished together in HUMONGOUS paragraphs. Hopefully it works this time! If it doesn't look right, I'll probably be going in and fixing it, so just remove the story from your library and re-add to get the latest, best version, please!! <333

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"What?" I shouted.

"You've been removed from the­­–"

"I know what you said!" My thoughts were scattered and racing all over the place, and the headache behind my eyes was worse than ever before. The right thing to do would have been to run to the phone and call the police. But I couldn't. Because no matter how crazy this guy sounded, a part of me...wanted to believe what he was saying. "I just don't understand. Who are you?!"

"My name is Ace."

"Ace?"

"Oui."

"What are you, a stripper?"

His violet eyes glowed at me. Glowed. "If you were any other mortal at this moment..." Frustrated, he took off his hat a moment and fixed his hair. "Ace is the name you know me as and that's the only name you're getting–"

"And why's that?"

"Because that's the name I prefer, ma chère. Anyway, I thought that might jog your memory and it clearly didn't. And clearly your sass is in place of your recollections." He shifted his weight onto his cane. "I suppose I will just cut to the chase. This might be hard for you to understand, but your memories have been taken from you."

I almost laughed. "You're serious."

"Moments before, I looked into your conscious and saw that a huge piece of your memories have been stripped from you."

I stared at him like he'd just ripped off his shirt, turned green, and yelled "HULK SMASH!"

"And you know this, how?" I demanded.

"Because I'm a Warlock, Faith. A very old, very skilled warlock."

I stared at him for a long blink-less moment.

"You don't look like a Warlock."

He frowned. "What do I look like, then?"

I skimmed his outfit. "A fruity chap who still lives in his mom's basement."

"Ma chère!" Ace's eyes went wide. "I am not fruity. What has gotten into you?" He looked down at his outfit, and then daggered me with his eyes. "And why did you say chap?"

I put my hands up. "Listen, I'm not the one wearing a purple suit."

His face went a little red. "I'm European!"

"Whatever."

"I don't have to be here, Faith," Ace said, with fury that I wouldn't dare play with. "I'd rather not, considering the possible consequences of interfering with...this. But here I stand and maybe it would be wise to watch your manners."

"Sorry," I grudgingly said.

He pursed his lips a moment and then nodded. "Forgiven."

"So I'm supposed to believe," I began, "that you're a really warlock? And what, that poker card summoned you here?"