Even before she knew she was awake, she smelt it. It was a mixture of urine, dung, blood and the sweet tang of decaying flesh. Her head throbbed, and she sat up with a moan, feeling slightly ill. She opened her eyes and froze in horror. It was the same little alley, there was no denying that. But now, instead of boxes and dumpsters, it was filled with the rotting carcasses of dogs, cats, demons and humans.
A decaying hand lay just near her feet, and eyeless heads leered from within the pile. She shrieked and stumbled back, heart pounding in terror. Her stomach, already unsettled, boiled over. She got three steps from the alley before her stomach rebelled. Retching, she threw up, the vomit blissfully destroying her sense of smell. But there was no forgetting those staring faces. Breathing hard, she looked around. Everything had changed. The houses were boarded up, most bearing evidence of fire. Even the sky was different, now a glaring red. She stared upwards, disbelieving.
"What the..." What had happened?
A faint crack to her right echoed down the desolate street, making her jump. Something was coming. She stepped back into the shadows, but nothing on earth could have made her go back into that alley.
It was a long line of people, about fifty or so. Most wore only enough clothing to keep them decent. Heads down, they trudged along, each wearing a thick steel collar tight around there necks. A long chain looped through a small hole in the collars, connecting them all together. Phoebe stared at them, frozen with shock. A Slave train. The thought echoed dully in her head as she watched them pass. Two demons walked behind, each holding a whip. One grinned, showing long pointed teeth, and flicked the barbed end at the last person, a woman. She yelped and leapt forward, looking back fearfully. The demons guffawed and twirled their weapons threateningly. The procession turned a corner at the end of the street, disappearing from view.
Phoebe stepped out of the shadows, shaking her head. This was impossible. She walked along the street, staring wide eyed at the world around her. The entire time, she thought only one thing: How!
Demons walked along the street, and no one gave them a second glance. Any people she saw had collars around their necks, and worked under the watching eye of a demon.
A hand grabbed her painfully by the arm and she was pulled into a derelict shop. She whirled around, freeing herself from its grip with a quick twist, heart jumping to her throat. A demon with puce skin glared at her, yellow eyes flashing in the semi darkness.
"You! Where is your collar?" Phoebe back against the far wall, hand scrabbling for a weapon. He stepped forward, fist clenched. "You wouldn't be an escaped slave, would you?" he crooned, eyes alight with malicious greed
"Because they fetch a pretty penny in the slave markets-" Phoebes hand had touched on a thin iron bar. She threw it with all her might at the demons sneering face. It connected with a wet 'smack', and the demon staggered. "Wha-" he collapsed to the ground, out cold.
Phoebe was breathing hard, adrenaline surging threw her body. Quickly, she bent over the demon and took his black cloak. She was too conspicuous in her normal clothes, it seemed. Wrapping the black folds of cloth around her body, she looked the demon over for anything else of interest. A dagger hung from his belt, along with a heavy purse. She took these both, securing them in her pockets. Pulling the hood over her head, she ducked out of the shop. The street was practically empty, the only sounds of life coming from a slave toiling in a garden. His bare back gleaned, scars rippling every time he moved. Taking a deep breath, she walked along the street, headed towards her home with an awful feeling of dread.
