It was an average night, just like any other. The grey ceiling of cloud was perforated with small holes, allowing shafts of shining silver moonlight to filter down, barely enough to illuminate the dank street below. The clouds threatened rain, but seemed to be feeling merciful for the moment. There was a slight chill in the air, enough to have the few individuals on the street pulling jackets close for warmth. The street was typical of the inner city, that is to say the road was in dire need of repair, and everything was coated in a layer of grime. The buildings stood huddled together, like a group of small children who had lost their teacher on a school outing. All except for the apartment block that stood proudly at the end of the road. Something singled it out as important somehow. Perhaps it was the fact that it seemed a little less beat up, more grime-free. It is in this building that our story begins.
"Alright guys and gals, are you ready to blow the roof off this place?!" shouted the young DJ. The crowd roared in affirmation. The DJ smoothly switched tracks using magic, a bright blue glow enveloping her long, spiralled horn as she did so. The DJ's name was Vinyl Scratch. She had short, spiked cobalt hair, alabaster white fur, and startling scarlet eyes, something of an oddity among her race. She wore black skinny jeans with two bridged eighth notes emblazoned in white on the back pocket, a red tank top, a black hoodie with the same insignia over the right breast, a pair of black fingerless elbow length gloves, and jet-black headphones with two glowing red circles on the cups.
She thanked the Gods for the soundproofing in the building as she turned the bass way up, feeling the entire room reverberate around her, watching the other occupants dance and drink and laugh. It was nights like these that she lived for, when she could bring people happiness through music. "If only I could get paid for this," she mused. But The Corporation had denied her that luxury when they outlawed music a few decades before she was born.
Outside the building, two men in suits stared up at the third floor, where light could be seen poking through a window that hadn't been covered properly. The windowpanes appeared to be shaking like a jelly mould in an earthquake. One man, with grey fur and closely cropped hair, turned to his companion, eyebrow raised. The other, whose coat was a bright orange, nodded curtly. They tried to open the door to the lobby, finding it locked. The grey man un-holstered his firearm and took aim. The lock flew apart as the bullet passed through it, granting the two men entry. They ignored the elevator and headed straight for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Booming bass-laden beats could be heard a few floors above.
Vinyl looked up as she heard a scream, louder than all the others, coming from the back of the room;
"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
The Corporation men weaved their way through the crowd, working towards the back of the room where Vinyl was hiding behind her speakers, terrified. She knew they would be coming for her; she was the one playing the illegal music after all. They were halfway to the stage when Vinyl felt something tugging at her arm. She whipped her head around, her headphones almost flying off in the process, to find a man with black fur motioning her towards an empty doorway.
"Come on!"
Vinyl allowed herself to be dragged through the corridors by the mysterious young man. Her body felt numb. This wasn't happening. It just couldn't be. How had they found out? She had been running this operation for almost a year without a hitch. More importantly, who was this man who had saved her, and why had he done so?
Her train of thought was derailed when she noticed they were ascending a staircase.
"Are you crazy? It's a dead end, they'll catch us!"
"Would you be quiet?" he hissed in response, "You'll give us away!"
"But where are we going?" asked Vinyl, lowering her voice.
"You'll see."
After another floor of climbing they stopped. The man was listening intently. Footsteps echoed up from the stairwell below.
"Shit!" they both cursed in unison. Vinyl took the steps two at a time, desperately trying not to think about what would happen when they ran out of steps to climb. She could hear the footsteps, closer now. The Corporation agents were gaining with ease. Vinyl on the other hand, felt just about ready to collapse. Her lungs were on fire, her legs screaming in protest. Come on, just a few more steps, she told herself. Her saviour had overtaken her, his tail obscuring her vision.
The pair burst through a door and on to the roof. This was it. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere left to run. All they could do was turn to face their pursuers, a battle they were sure to lose.
"This is it boys and girls, end of the line!" shouted the orange agent. "You've had your fun, but it's time to put an end to that. Now if you'll just come quietly…"
"Pft, I don't think so," retorted the man. He turned to Vinyl. "Do you trust me?"
"Trust you?" she exclaimed, "I don't even know you!"
"Listen, if you want to survive this, you have to do as I say, understand?" he said in hushed tones, a sense of urgency in his eyes.
"Are you two done with your meeting yet?" asked the grey Corporation agent.
"Yes, we are actually. We'll just be leaving now," said the man, taking a step backwards. Vinyl followed suit.
"Actually, I think you'll find that the only way you two are leaving this building is in shackles or body bags."
"I beg to differ."
And suddenly everything was happening too fast. The man, turning. The agents, pulling their triggers. Bullets, speeding towards her. She turned, grabbed the man's outstretched hand and launched herself off the side of the building. For a moment she was weightless, then her arm was almost yanked out of its socket. She looked up to see her saviour keeping them aloft with his huge pair of wings.