The alley had gone quiet. Too quiet. I lingered a moment, letting my eyes trace the wet bricks, the faint footprints fading into puddles. Whoever or whatever had been there wasn't gone, not really. Shadows shifted at the edges of my vision, teasing me, testing me.
I muttered under my breath, "Figures. Always watching. A Man Can't even Pee in Peace…" My voice trailed off. I didn't like being watched. Not at all.
Pushing off the damp wall, I stepped onto the wider street. Neon signs reflected in puddles, fractured and flickering. The city felt bigger here, louder, alive in ways the alley never was. Footsteps clattered behind me. Not random. Deliberate. My pulse kicked in.
"Focus, Dylan," I whispered to myself. The name felt strange, but it settled me. Identity wasn't just a formality; it was a lifeline in this city.
I ducked into a dimly lit corner shop. Shelves leaned precariously, the air thick with coffee beans and damp cardboard. Behind the counter, a man with tired eyes raised an eyebrow.
"Evening, Dylan," he said.
My stomach knotted. Someone knew my name. Not that I had a lot of options here. "Evening," I muttered. "You seen anything… unusual tonight?"
He leaned closer, voice low. "People vanish in alleys all the time. No papers, no police reports. But some folks notice. Some folks remember. You… you notice."
I nodded, letting my fingers trace the counter. "Yeah. Notice. That's my specialty."
Outside, the city buzzed sirens wailing, tires splashing puddles, distant shouts echoing off buildings. My eyes drifted to the rain-slicked street. Footsteps echoed in a nearby alley. I tilted my head. "Figures," I muttered. "Watching. Waiting. Or enjoying the show."
Click… click…
Metal scraping. Subtle, deliberate. My chest tightened. Someone was tracking me. Or leaving a warning.
I crouched, inspecting the ground. Footprints led toward a darker side street, barely visible in shadow. Curiosity flared, reckless as ever. "Of course," I whispered. "A trail. Just begging to be followed. And I'm dumb enough to follow it."
The shopkeeper's warning echoed in my mind: "Things are moving faster than you think."
I stepped into the alley, rain tapping my coat, puddles squelching under my boots, neon fractured in tiny mirrors on the wet pavement. Shadows seemed to lean closer, deliberate, patient. Someone knew I was here. Watching. Waiting. And, as always, I had no choice but to see where it led.
Splash… splash…
The city whispered around me, indifferent, alive, and just beginning to reveal its secrets.