The rain fell in relentless sheets, cascading down the cracked brick walls of the narrow alley. The faint glow of a streetlamp struggled to pierce the darkness, leaving jagged shadows sprawled across the ground. Each step splashed into shallow puddles, a cadence of sound that matched the erratic beat of Roe's heart.
His breath came in gasps, each one cutting against the cold night air like shards of glass in his chest. He didn't dare look behind him; he didn't need to. The heavy thud of boots on wet pavement was a relentless reminder that his pursuers were close.
The torn sack on his back felt heavier with every step. Whatever it was—whatever the old woman had thrust into his hands before whispering her final, cryptic words—it was enough to paint a target on his back. The edges of the parchment were damp from the rain, but its presence burned against his ribs like a brand.
"Stop him!" a voice barked from the shadows behind him.
Roe's pulse spiked. He skidded to a halt at the alley's end, his escape blocked by a looming chain-link fence. Rust clung to the metal like decay, and the top bristled with razor wire. There was no time to scale it, no way out.
The footsteps behind him slowed, becoming a steady, menacing rhythm. Roe turned, his back pressed against the cold metal of the fence. Three figures emerged from the darkness, their faces obscured by rain-soaked hoods. The leader stepped forward, a wicked glint of steel in his hand catching the dim light.
"Hand me the sack kid." the man growled.
Roe swallowed hard, his mind racing. "I didn't ask for this," he said, his voice trembling but defiant. "I don't even know what this is!"
The leader chuckled, a low, guttural sound. "Doesn't matter. Hand it over, and maybe we'll let you walk out of here alive."
Roe's grip tightened on the package hidden in his sack . The old woman's final words echoed in his mind: "Protect this at all costs. If it falls into their hands, we're all doomed."
He shook his head, the fear in his eyes giving way to determination. "No."
The man's grin faded, replaced by a cold, predatory glare. "Wrong answer."
The other two figures advanced, their movements swift and precise. Roe braced himself, his fists clenching even though he knew it was futile. He was no fighter, and they knew it.
But just as the first blow was about to land, a sharp whistle cut through the night. The sound was piercing, unnatural, and it froze everyone in their tracks.
"What the—" the leader muttered, his eyes darting toward the source of the noise.
From the shadows at the far end of the alley, a figure emerged. He moved with a deliberate, almost lazy confidence, his boots silent against the wet pavement. A long, dark coat billowed around him, and the faint glow of a cigar illuminated a face that was sharp, angular, and utterly calm.
"Three against one?" the man drawled, his voice smooth and unbothered. "Not very sporting of you."
The leader snarled, brandishing his knife. "Stay out of this, old man. This has nothing to do with you."
The stranger ignored him, his gaze settling on Roe with an unsettling grin. "You , you're perfect. Make a deal with me boy ."
Roe nodded, too stunned to speak.
The leader growled in frustration. "Fine. You want to play hero? Let's see how long you last."
He lunged, the blade aimed straight for the stranger's chest. But the man moved faster than Roe thought possible, sidestepping the attack with a fluid grace. In a blur of motion, he caught the leader's wrist, twisted, and sent the knife clattering to the ground.
The other two assailants hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances.
"Your move," the stranger said, his tone almost bored.
They charged together, but it was over in seconds. The stranger moved like a shadow, every strike precise and devastating. One attacker crumpled to the ground, clutching his ribs which were ripped open , while the other stumbled back, blood dripping from a gash in his stomach.
"Can't be leaving behind any witnesses" the stranger said in a playful but deadly tone
The remaining thugs were all killed in quick fashion their screams and curses swallowed by the rain.
For a moment, the alley was silent save for the steady patter of rain. Roe stared at the stranger, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"Who… who are you?" he finally managed.
The man smiled faintly, his cigar glowing as he took a slow drag. "Let's just say I'm someone who's going to make a monster out of you."
Roe blinked, his mind racing. "But why did you help me? You don't even know me."
The stranger's expression darkened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something—recognition?—in his eyes. "You're right. I don't know you. But I know what you're carrying and who it belongs to."
Roe's hand instinctively went to the package beneath his coat. "What is it? Why is it so important?"
The man stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because it's something more dangerous than anything you could ever imagine , it's a key to power out of this world and all covet it , even me but it seems to have already chosen you."
Roe swallowed hard, the weight of the man's words sinking in. "What do I do?"
The stranger turned, his coat swirling around him like a cloak. "You come with me. If you want to survive the night, that is."
And with that, he walked away , leaving Roe no choice but to follow.