A Most Excellent and Admirable Rocker...

Felix Baker slid fluidly through the shadows of the abandoned buildings. He was moving as quickly as he dared, as it was dark, and Necropolis wasn't safe in broad daylight. He wouldn't have minded so much if he weren't alone, but somebody had to arrange the band's booking at a nearby club, and he'd been the only one available. Now he and his friends were gainfully employed at the Outer Limits for the next week. It was a crappy little dance club several blocks away, but they paid half decent money. Felix had wrangled a few more dollars onto their fee, but the delay had cost him. Now he had to get home as quickly as possible, because he was late and Sam would be worried.

Fuck Sam, if he didn't get home soon he'd be dead! So far, his luck had held; he hadn't met another person in the gloomy streets. He blended well with his surroundings, a lifetime on the streets had taught him how to move swiftly and silently. He darted from shadow to shadow, his movements graceful despite his lanky six-foot frame.

Felix pulled the collar of his dark jacket higher, attempting to cover his face. This might keep the rogue mages and the flight addicts from seeing him, he decided, but it wouldn't do jackshit against the chimera and their night vision.

This idea firmly in mind, he picked up his pace and rounded the corner onto a new street a bit faster than was safe. He froze, crouching instinctively into a darkened doorway as he saw another figure halfway down the street.

Silhouetted by a street lamp, a slender figure in a dark coat meandered across the pitted asphalt of the street, seemingly oblivious to any danger. Felix watched incredulously as the man stopped, turning in his direction.

Shit. The guy was probably flying, enough to be dangerous. Or maybe it was a street mage, who could flame Felix into dust before he could twitch. Either way, it was not good.

The man was still facing him, and Felix realized that he wasn't looking, he was listening! The blond stranger cocked his head, and Felix held his breath, not moving a muscle. Eventually the man tired of searching the shadows, and began to move off down the street. Felix unconsciously relaxed.

Then, without warning, a black car roared around the bend and sent the unknown man flying. At almost the same instant, sirens flared to life as a previously hidden cop car surged out of the shadows after the other car.

Felix saw none of this. He was gripped by a strangely familiar sense of panic as he observed the stranger lying in a pool of blood. It was within this fear that he watched one of the police officers approaching the grievously injured man. A part of him screamed "Help him! For the love of god, you've got to save him!". This part knew somehow, that this man was important -no, vital. He had to be saved. But Felix's street instincts told him to stay put, not to move, not to give himself away.

So he watched, torn, as the cop checked the man's pulse, swore, and started CPR. Then disbelief took hold as he watched the injured man rise, shaking off his injuries, just like that. There was a dreamlike quality to the entire scene, and Felix's mind nearly shut down, overwhelmed.

Eventually, he came back to himself, long after the squad car had returned with the medics. Trying desperately to quell his panic, he headed towards his apartment building. Something of great consequence had happened, he just wasn't sure what.

One thing he did know, however: home had never seemed so far away.