Rain had stopped again, but the alley smelled like something had died not old garbage, not rats, something… fresher. My boots squelched over wet concrete as I approached. Every instinct screamed: wrong place, wrong time, wrong life choices.
Squelch… squelch…
I froze. Footsteps? Nope. Just my own. But my pulse didn't calm. Not here. Not ever.
A metallic tang hit my nose blood. My stomach twisted. "Perfect. Just perfect. Because I needed a hobby involving corpses, I would have just listened to my mom and should've become a doctor", I muttered
Then I saw it.
A body. Slumped against the wall. Twisted. Eyes wide, staring at… nothing. I wished I hadn't noticed. A pool of crimson spread like a bad joke across the wet pavement.
Click… click…
Someone was moving behind me. Deliberate. Delayed. Measuring.
I crouched lower, pretending to inspect a puddle while my mind screamed, Run. Run. Run.
Near the corpse, scratched into the wall in hasty, jagged lines, was the symbol. The emblem. Not neat. Not decorative. Purposeful. A warning? Or a signature?
"Of course, they love a dramatic entrance. And me, apparently."
Splash… drip…
Water ran off a broken pipe, pattering against the puddles. The alley was alive with sound, each drop magnifying my awareness. My heart thumped like a drum in a war march.
I knelt, inspecting the body, careful not to touch too much. Fingers hovered over the emblem. Someone had left a message. Someone had left it just for me.
Rustle…
Movement again. Closer. Patience in motion. I gritted my teeth. "Oh, brilliant. Just what I needed company. And not the friendly kind."
I scanned the alley, every shadow, every corner, every crumbling brick. The city was breathing around me, waiting, testing.
"Okay, Dylan," I whispered, voice dry and sarcastic. "You're officially in the game. Congratulations. Enjoy the chaos. Don't die. Or die slowly. That's fun too."
A gust of wind carried the faint scent of wet concrete and iron. I knew the killer or the watchers weren't far. Every step, every blink, every heartbeat was part of the pattern now. I wasn't just noticing. I was marked.
Click… drip…
I backed slowly, careful, crouching behind a tilted trash can. The symbol on the wall seemed to mock me. This wasn't coincidence. Not anymore.
I stuffed the emblem into my pocket, heart racing, mind spinning. The city hummed around me, indifferent, patient, alive. And I realized something terrifying: the disappearances weren't random. The bodies weren't random. And now, I wasn't random either.
Splash… splash…
I had crossed the line. There was no going back.