The Opening

1
Shadow of the Alley

I'm not criminal.

That's what Lucy told herself every night when the alleys of Lumina City became her hunting grounds. It's just survival.

She stood pressed against the cold brick of an old office building, hidden in the shadows. People passed her as if she wasn't there. They always did.

Lucy lifted a cigarette to her lips, taking a long drag, trying to distract herself from the relentless rumble of her stomach. Her worn, tattered clothes did little to hide her slender frame, nor did they shield her from Lumina's unforgiving nights. Smoke curled from her lips, both from the cigarette and the cold.

Her dark eyes flicked left and right, scanning the alley in a practiced rhythm. A woman hurried past her spot, heels clicking against concrete, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Her head was dipped low to avoid any eye contact. Lucy's gaze stayed on her until she disappeared around a corner.

The streets continued to empty. Lights were switched off, allowing the darkness to take over.

Finally, her eyes settled on the shop opposite her. Its owner approached the front door, locking it and flipping the sign. Closed. He vanished into the back afterwards.

That's when Lucy started counting.

One. Two. Three...

She took a slow drag of her cigarette, closing her eyes to focus on the rough feel of smoke in her throat. The lights of the shop turned dark.

Ten... Eleven... Twelve...

Somewhere a door clicked shut and shortly after, the owner emerged from the shop's side alley. The headlights of his car blinked when he approached it, pressing his keys.

Twenty...

He got inside his car, starting the engine without caring about the seatbelt. His tires screeched as he drove away.

Lucy didn't move yet. She kept counting.

Twenty-four... Twenty-five... Twenty-six...

She let the cigarette fall and ground it beneath her boot.

Thirty.

The alley was empty, only lit by the streetlamps. The one next to her flickered. Her gaze turned upward. It flickered again.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets, a calming habit. The lamp didn't flicker again.

Lucy crossed the street like she was on a simple nightly stroll and stepped into the narrow side alley. The back door waited.

She took one last glance over her shoulder and a deep breath, before leaning forward into the shadows of the door. Her hand passed through first, her body following right after. She had never questioned why the dark let her through. She only knew that it did.

Darkness met her inside, too dark to anyone else to see. Not to her. Lucy's eyes adjusted faster than they should. She made out silhouettes of boxes stacked high.

She moved through the tight path that led to the front. Just when she reached the threshold, her foot caught a heavy box which lay in her way.

Lucy hissed, biting back a cry of pain.

Idiot, she cursed herself.

The front was only dimly lit by the streetlamps. Lucy stayed in the shadows. Her hand shot out, grabbing whatever was within reach. Canned goods, sandwiches, small water bottles...

Just survival, her mind echoed. That's enough.

Lucy turned to leave when her gaze landed on the cigarettes behind the counter.

Leave... You have enough!

But she shook her head before Lucy could overthink it. With silent steps she approached the counter, grabbing a few packs and a new lighter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a jar filled with money.

He forgot his tips...

Lucy bit her lip, hesitating. Then, her hand reached inside, taking the money.

Just once.

She added the fifteen dollars to her loot.

When she turned once more to leave, a flicker of movement in a fridge's glass door caught her attention.

Figures lurked outside the shop. A loud thud echoed through the place. Someone was pushed against the window.

Lucy crouched low, staying behind the counter. She couldn't see them clearly, only the shapes of flat caps.

She sucked in a breath.

A shot rang out, sending a jolt of pure ice down her spine.

Lucy clapped a hand over her mouth, holding in a scream. The sound of a body hitting the ground vibrated through her. Lucy felt her pulse in her throat, heard it thudding in her ears.

Count... One. Two...

Lucy focused on her breathing, calming down slowly.

Outside, the lamp flickered again.

The silhouettes vanished from the fridge's reflection. But their footsteps remained close.

Twenty.

Lucy swallowed and listened.

„... clean up...“
„... report... removed the leak...“

Slowly, Lucy craned her neck, enough to see the window. The men were still there, but out of the window's sight. She only caught edges of a coat behind the frame.

With silent steps, Lucy tiptoed forward, back to where she came from.

At the door, Lucy paused after phasing through. One of the men crossed the alley's mouth. She held her breath. The streetlight flickered, making the man stop. He looked at the lamp.

„What's wrong with that?“ He asked in annoyance.

„Who cares?“ A second man came into view, similarly dressed in coat and flat cap. „This damn city is falling apart.“

Lucy pressed herself back against the wall, letting the darkness take her shape. It swallowed the outline of her body until Lucy felt like nothing more than a stain between bricks.

A third man appeared, carrying the motionless body of their victim. Lucy caught sight of a snake tattoo on his neck. He was tall and slender, and didn't speak as he dragged the corpse into her alley.

Lucy didn't move, didn't dare to breathe... Suddenly, her lighter clattered to the ground, having slipped from her hoodie pocket.

The tattooed man's eyes snapped up to her position while the first man, the smallest, turned.

„Did you say anything, Viper?“ He asked, mockingly.

The second man clapped the back of his head.

„Douche bag... You know he can't speak...“

But yet another presence made them both freeze. Only Viper didn't react, but stared at the point where Lucy stood, eyes narrowed slightly.

Lucy's heart hammered against her ribs.

At the mouth of the alley, a broad-shouldered man approached the other men.

„The hell are you doing?“ His accent was thick. „I said to clean up, then report and move. We've got another in 67th westside!“

„Viper is already...“

Suddenly, the light flickered again, cutting him off. The bulb buzzed, stuttering. The shadows along the wall deepened, stretching a little further than they should.

Viper frowned. The one who was cut off gasped.

„Creepy...“ the other said.

The broad-shouldered man raised an eyebrow, turning his head to Viper who still watched Lucy's spot.

Lucy curled her fingers, brushing the wall behind her subtly. She forced herself to still.

„Watching ghosts, Viper?“

Only then did Viper move again. He dragged the dead man to a dumpster and threw him inside.

„That's right. Now move your ass!“

Viper only nodded at the broad-shouldered one.

But the light flickered once more.

„D...did you see that, Deathrow?“ the smallest man rambled. „I swear this place is haunted...“

Deathrow looked at the light, then inside the alley.

Everything in Lucy's body screamed to run. Yet she didn't. Not yet.

But with her spiking fear, the light flickered once more, twice, and suddenly, darkness snapped across the alley.

In that breath of black, Lucy moved. She slipped sideways, her body folding into the deeper stretch of shadow between two dumpsters. Her shoulder scraped metal as she forced herself through a gap that shouldn't have been wide enough.

But it created noise, and for a second a flicker of light caught her hair. Enough for them to notice.

„Hey!“

Lucy didn't stop. She cut through the back exit and into the next alley over.

Footsteps echoed behind her, but fading...

„...wait...“ She heard one shout.

The footsteps stopped.

She kept running despite the silence. Her breath came sharp and uneven, burning in her chest as she turned corner after corner, not daring to look back.

Only when the noise of the main street swallowed her footsteps did she slow and risk a glance over her shoulder. But there was nothing, no flat caps.

Though, the feeling of eyes fixed on her didn't leave immediately.

A motorbike engine rumbled past, startling her. She turned and saw a rider with a dark helmet, visor down.

Lucy stopped, watched and gasped. For a fleeting second, the rider stared back. But she released a sigh when they turned around a corner and disappeared.

Back in the alley, the men stood frozen.

„She was... right there? How did we not see her?“ the smallest man muttered, voice tight.

Deathrow didn't respond. Instead, he approached the wall where Lucy had been moments ago. He reached out, fingers brushing the brick. It was still warm in a way it shouldn't be.

Viper watched him silently, eyes sharp.

Deathrow's gaze lifted, thoughtful. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

„Call the men,“ he ordered at last. „Find her.“ A predatory chuckle left his throat. „We've found her. Finally.“