Humming neon lights and glittering raindrops aren't enough to stave off the inky night. Blackness always envelops the city of Los Angeles.
Only the rising sun unveils the familiar world. This unrelenting cycle of light and dark grinds on, just as it has been since the beginning of time.
But there are things that remain hidden even in the light of day. Inhuman vapors come from the tangle of sun-cast shadows.
And at night, those shadows merge with the darkness, and the creatures that dwell there are temporarily released.
"It's all over, Mad Dog!"
A Sudden Voice
A man known as Delvin declared as he shifted his weight, trying to cut an imposing figure but settling for "in charge". He eyed the young man who stood at the far end of the alley.
His prey's appearance resembled that of a high schooler who wore a loose black hoodie, dark blue jeans and a pair of white shoes. This figure was naturally Ethan who was minding his work and was making way to the conference store.
"This again? Don't you ever give up?" Ethan said with an obviously annoyed tone as he scratched the back of his head.
Delvin clicked his tongue in annoyance. This was, in fact, the 49th time he had gone after Ethan. Any ordinary gangster would have stopped by the tenth. But Delvin was not one to admit defeat.
But why was he chasing after a high schooler in the first place. The answer remains unknown.
"I've got forty men. And every one of them is armed with military-issue stain makers. Today is the day you die!"
Delvin then glanes up towards the alley rooftops where several thick shadows could be seen.
Forty Armed Thugs. Wasn't that too much?
Apparently, they didn't care about ganging up on a teenager.
"You got spirit, I give you that!" He displayed an arrogant smirk. "You always managed to pull through. But this time is different, you're trapped like a cornered rat. Ready to die?"
The alley was still. Devin shifted his weight again, uncomfortable with the tension. He could feel sweat beading on his brow, and hoped the thugs on the rooftops didn't notice.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" Ethan asked nonchalantly as he tried to contain his yawn. "Look I have school tomorrow, so can we make this quick?"
"Son of a Bitch!! Why don't you take me seriously? Don't you know the situation you are in? I would have been on my knees begging for my life, if I was you." Delvin yelled.
"Chill out Man, you might burst something with that temper of yours." Ethan stated without care.
"You arrogant prick! DIE!!" Delvin pulled his trigger, and forty thugs followed suit. Hundreds of bullets volleyed toward Ethan, kicking up a dusty cloud that soon swallowed the alley.
The guns sputtered out a few seconds later. Delvin smirked as his men lowered their spent guns.
"Maybe that shower of bullets woke you up!" He chuckled.
However, Ethan emerged from the smoke unharmed while brushing off his hoodie. "Didn't I just say let's make this quick?"
Suddenly, Delvin heard the clatter of empty weapons falling to the ground. One by one, his men backed away.
"Where the hell are you going? Do your jobs!!" He yelled
"Nah, I'm out of here!" One of the men shouted.
"I pay you, you bastards!" Delvin wrapped his fingers around the M17 that hung at his considerable waist.
"Damnit!! Why does it always turn out like this?" Delvin grumbled.
Nobody would have survived that shower of bullets. So why were his men lying in bloody heaps on the ground? Delvin gripped his pistol. Forty Nine times. And now, yet again, he was about to suffer another humiliating defeat.
A figure blurred at the front end of the alley, near the bodies of over half of his men and another thug sprawled on the pile. His remaining men approached the dust cloud cautiously, wary of friendly fire.
"Tch! Like hell I'm going to lose this time!" He aimed at the melee and pulled the trigger. His pistol roared and one of his men collapsed.
"Shit!!" He cursed before he squeezing off another round whenever he heard one of his men drop. Sweat poured off his forehead, blurring his vision. But Delvin didn't care.
Suddenly, a figure blurred at the edge of his vision.
"I got you now, you son of a Bitch!"
Just like that, Delvin fired three bullets in rapid succession, leaving a final round in the chamber. His eyes darted around anxiously. "Have I sent you to hell yet?"
He received no response
A light breeze dissipated the veil of smoke, forty bodies lay soaked in red. Delvin stepped carefully through the corpses, looking for Ethan. He must have hit him. Had to, at that range.
His confidence returned. He could practically taste the celebratory cold beer running down his throat. However, he celebrated too soon.
"Wha..?" Delvin muttered as the hairs on his skin stood up. His mouth opened and closed like a fish as his eyes registered the figure standing alone in the alley.
"What? You look like you're seen a ghost or something." A gust of wind pushed the last of the dust out of the alley, brushing a strand of Jet-black hair out of Ethan's face.
He didn't have a scratch on him, but his hoodie was a different case entirely. It was riddled with holes.
"Freak!" Delvin spat out with no remorse but Ethan was unfazed.
"Tch! Great now my favorite hoodie is ruined. How the hell are you going compensate me for this?"
"Shut up!" Delvin snarled. He gestured with his pistol. "I've still got bullets left, you monkey!"
Ethan lowered his sword, further enraging Delvin. "Is that so, why don't you take your best shot? Right here, X marks the spot." He pointed to his forehead.
Rage clouded Devlin's judgement and he pulled the trigger. The two were so close that even an amateur warzone player wouldn't miss. Delvin watched as the bullet tore into Ethan head.
"It did it!"
"Are you sure about that?"
Delvin stared with his mouth agape
Ethan was unharmed. Impossible! Delvin had seen the bullet pierce Ethan's skull. He's not human.
Ethan pressed the tip of his sword against Devlin's throat. "Looks like I win again." The Black-haired devil said with a grin.
"It was a nice try but not good enough." Ethan took the M17 before sheathing his blade. "Nice piece, I'm sure John will like this."
"See ya later." Ethan turned around to leave, leaving Delvin wobbling, speechless, and totally dumbfounded.
He turned at the end of the alley. "I almost forgot," Ethan eased out his raged hoodie. "Take this to Gai shop and ask her to make me a new one. And don't forget to tip her."
"Damnit, why do I have to be his errand boy?" Delvin skulked down the sidewalk, bitter. He sneezed as he darted from building to building.
"Dammit. First a defeat, and now a cold!" Delvin sidled onto a road that led out of town. He pulled a grubby handkerchief out of his pocket and trumpeted loudly.
The wind hollowed. Maybe it was the sweat or maybe it was his fear of Ethan. Regardless, he shivered. He slipped into the remains of the hoodie but the patchwork of holes did little to warm him.
"I'd be better off throwing it away." More than paying for repairs! But he had come this far. Might as well go the distance.
Still, a little break can't hurt, he thought. Delvin sat down and crossed his legs.
"How tragic!" He grumbled. "Ever since Ethan came around, my luck turned to shit." All his men were dead, making him just a lone wolf.
"Forty-Nine times! My reputation is as good as gone." The more he thought about it, the more it annoyed him.
It all happened when Ethan came to the underworld three months ago. It was like a lightning that struck, no one expected it. He easily made short work of the underworld. Delvin wasn't the only victim. Drug dealers, arms dealers, human organ dealers, illegal surgeons. Anyone working for the mafia and its rivals had found themselves on the wrong end of Ethan's wrath.
Thus earning his reputation in the underworld as the Mad Dog. Ethan completely rejected their overtures for peace. Any other mercenary would have taken the money, no questions asked. But not Ethan. He did whatever he wanted, ignoring the local power structure. Gangs who opposed him were utterly crushed, and with each defeat Ethan's reputation grew.
Ethan was threatening their entire way of life and so Delvin decided to do something about it. It was not only him though, others had also tried but they met the same fate.
Forty Nine times now. There wouldn't be another one, Delvin knew that. He had used up the last of his goodwill to find backing for this most recent attempt, hatching a meticulous plan and persuading old bosses to lend him money, muscle, and gear for the attack. Striking out had left Delvin with no friends and nowhere else to go. He had to keep his head down now. This wasn't a loss a man could just walk away from.
"I'm so screwed!" He grumbled
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
Suddenly, a voice cried out.
Delvin reached for his M17, but remembered that Ethan took it.
"Damnit!" He cursed
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
The voice grew louder. Delvin eyes darted around.
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
The call was coming closer and Delvin realized there were several voices now.
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
Delvin turned around like a wild animal
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
His fear grew more primal, his thoughts tumbling into feral abandon. Even if he'd had his pistol, he wouldn't be able to use it.
ETHHHHHHAAANN!!
The eerie voices were nearly upon him, but Delvin couldn't see them in the blackness.
Suddenly, Delvin heard a footstep beside him. He whirled anxiously. "Who's there?" he was oddly comforted by the possibility that he wasn't alone.
ETHHHHAAANN!!!
Then he saw it — a scythe, slicing toward him. Slowly, his vision bled away. He felt something tearing into his flesh. He tried to scream for help but voice got struck in his throat. Nothing worked anymore - nothing but his nerve endings, transmitting endless pain as he was hacked to bits.
And then there was silence.