Silently, slowly, carefully. She crept into an alley while clutching her arm. It was bruised, and had just been shot not a minute before. She sat down and took her hand away from her arm. It was stained with blood. Tears started running down her cheeks. The words yelled only minutes before still remained fresh in her mind. Soon, the woman with purple hair fell asleep. The next morning, very early, the man by the name of Spike Spiegel stood before Faye Valentine.