I have a special power, but no one would call it a gift. A curse, for sure. I don't know how I ended it up with this ... this thing, but I have it. It's the ability to know who will die. A single whiff as they walk by, and I know the person is marked for death. And there is nothing I can do to stop it.
I hate this ability, this power, and everyone who knows I have it hates me. Well, only one person knows. My father. And he hates me for it. He hates me for knowledge I don't want or know how to stop.
I've retreated into myself, knowing I can tell no one. But then, she walked into my life. And I know immediately that she's different. She wears a scent, but not that of death. A different scent, an otherworldly one. And I know in that moment that I will stop at nothing to understand why.