Chapter 4 - Of Past Times
A broken man by the name of Nick Black lay in an alleyway, isolated from all around him. His life had been reduced to this in just three days for a crime he didn't commit. The media (or the papers that blew into the alleyway, at least) seemed all too willing to sentence him to his doom without trial. He suspected that the public would follow suit and believe this lie. True, it seemed to be a solid enough argument against him, but he was sure there would be a flaw in there somewhere. Somehow, justice would prevail.
Nick thought he felt his hair get a little spikier.
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Two men stalked through a deserted street in a rough part of town.
"So who we lookin' for?" asked the taller man.
"Drake, I've already told you several times. We are pursuing a young man by the name of Nick Black. He appears to be one of those gothic types. Disgusting, wouldn't you agree?"
"Er... yeah. Sure Mike."
"You will address me as 'Mr. Darke' or 'sir'. That was part of the agreement."
"Sorry, sir."
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As sleep became too tempting to resist, Nick covered himself in the newspaper he was reading. He drank down the last of the vodka in the bottle that he held, his only friend. The whole nation was against him and yet he lay among them, drunk in a godforsaken alleyway. His vision blurred, slowly fading out to black.
As Nick started to dream, he found himself looking at a classroom in Azure University. He was also watching himself and Miles Anderson having a conversation, smiling and laughing.
"Give it up, Nick, you'll never get me to help you with your essay. It's due in tomorrow!"
"But Miles, I'll fail this course for sure if it's not done!"
"Well, that's your problem, isn't it?"
"Heh, you haven't changed a bit over the years, Miles."
"No, I guess I haven't. But at least I haven't changed my habits to be like yours - I still have my girlfriend."
"That was harsh... It wasn't my fault things went like that..."
Nick watched himself break down into tears, unable to resist.
"Am.. Amber..."
Miles wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulder. He knew Nick was still in agony over that incident. He couldn't tell him the truth, not while he had kept it hidden for all this time.
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The night sky was covered by dark clouds, rain pouring onto the city below. As the storm became more intense, Nick was summoned back to reality. He felt something pressing against his head, cold and vaguely disturbing. He dared to open his eyes. A gun was pressed to his head, wielded by a man in a long leather jacket. He leered, showing his forked tongue and sharp teeth filed to points.
"Ready to be brought to justice?"
End of chapter 4