Author's Note: The chapters may be brief. But I hope they convey the plot effectively. The story is told from first person view, from the eyes of my OC. The story from here on out will be dark, at least for a while. Warnings for this chapter: Dangerous themes, violence, mild language
It was a rather calm night in the city. Complete darkness coated the streets and alleys, a vast majority of the lights flickering, on the brink of death. An eerie fog hung in the air, a misleading ghost snaking through the blackness. This place could be compared to purgatory; even the most determined of wanderers would never find their way out. Save me, of course. I'd already done that once.
I turned the corner and moved briskly toward my destination, which was, at this particular moment, unknown. I simply knew the path I was told to follow, and was hoping to meet my mysterious accomplice somewhere along the way. They hadn't told me much – they'd even disguises their voice when we'd talked over the phone – and I was fairly suspicious. However, the momentous expectations this person had for me were too much to turn down. The money would be a fitting reward, certainly, but it was the reputation I'd gain from pulling this job off that I really sought. After this, all others of my specialty would be considered second-rate, and only the best in Domino City would bother hiring me. A smirk crossed my face, a light danced in my eyes, and I turned another bend.
This alleyway was a dead end, and so I had believed my newfound ally to be awaiting me at its end. Indeed, in the shadows of this passage's end, there stood someone clad in black. They wore a long trench coat, and some hooded article of clothing beneath it, judging by the cloth which hid the back of their head from me. I stopped walking, just ten feet or so away from whoever they were. I cleared my throat to indicate my presence, and was met with a dry chuckle.
"Oh, I knew you were there…" It was a man's voice, dull and scratchy. My profession should have prepared me for such a small shock as the sound of the man's voice, but it had not, and I shivered in response. I wasn't surprised to find my client to be male, but his voice… it was dreadful, cold and unfeeling, alive with emotionlessness. I clenched my fists at my sides, and attempted to control the tremors in my voice when I replied.
"Evening, sir. Might I be enlightened as to the name of my employer?" There was another, more hideous chuckle from the cloaked man. The heat in my stomach was rising into my chest, tensing all of my muscles on its journey upward. I silently stood, gritting my teeth, awaiting the moment the stranger would speak again, hopefully to unveil his identity to me. Yet, as calm as I tried to remain, my eyes were already darting about this place, searching for anything I could possibly use to defend myself. I knew my best bet would be the knife slipped into my jeans waistband, but if he had a gun…
"So polite you are. Unfortunately, I may not share the name of your employer. I am merely one of his faithful servants." The hood fell back with a toss of the man's head, revealing short, platinum blond hair. I raised an eyebrow, now more uncertain of my situation than before.
"I was told I was meeting my client, directly." I blinked, spitting on the concrete beneath me. "Now, where is he?" At this, the man turned, revealing a terrifying face. A large, fresh gash ran down the left side of his face, the red coagulating at his jaw line, looking like bloody foam from rabies. The one eye which was intact was a vibrant blue, though the white surrounding it was bloodshot. A shadow of unshaved facial hair fell across his right jaw, in mismatched lengths at different intervals. I could not prevent myself from unveiling a short gasp at his raw appearance.
"I'm sorry; I can't tell you of his location. Not yet." When he spoke, the flesh in his face rippled, as though some parasite was eating through the muscles beneath his skin every time he uttered a word. When he gave no further response, I grew annoyed, even through my apparent fear. I sighed, looking down, and away from that disgusting man.
"If you cannot tell me who he is, nor where to find him, then I have wasted my time," I growled. I was surprised to hear him growl in response, though the sound was largely animalistic, and purely wordless. My stomach flipped in anxiety. Though I was about to turn and leave, I found myself spellbound by the sound he'd made, and frozen in my position. "W-what was that, sir?" I said, trying to sound more formidable than I felt. He tilted his head down in such an inhuman manner, drawing up the corners of his mouth, and snarling like some sort of hellish beast. I didn't want to run – that would only expose my weakness to whoever, or whatever, this man, or creature was.
My heart was pounding; I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body. What was this guy? I heard a faint popping sound, and he'd twisted his head into the most awkward position possible; it looked downright painful, in fact, it looked as though someone had just snapped the man's neck. "R-… P-…erg," he groaned, gripping his head. His eyes, or, eye, met mine once again, sending a wave of ice shooting through my veins. I felt overcome with the sudden need to flee, which was so very much against my nature.
He stumbled toward me, spitting blood onto the stones beneath us. There is a moment in a person's life in which they desire nothing more than to run away from their fears, to escape a confrontation. At this very moment in my life, I wished that my legs would unclench, so that I could do that exactly: run away. But my mind was paralyzed along with my body. I'd never been attacked directly before this day – all of my previous enemies, whoever they were, had ordered my killing to be a secret. I was accustomed to those who tried to stab me in the back, or shoot me in the back of the head, but never before had I encountered anyone foolish enough to take me head on.
Perhaps it was the shock of this very scenario which had led me to not move a muscle. My eyes were suddenly registering at a sloth-like speed, and I was not aware of the man's closeness to me until I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder; the fiend had bit me! I cringed in the momentary pain, soon becoming uncomfortably aware of the man's even more distorted features, as he pulled away from my wound with blood dripping from his mouth. The action of the situation finally settled itself into my brain, and I quickly launched a kick upwards, aiming at his already damaged jaw. I hit my target, as I always did, and sent him crippling backward, clutching his mouth in agony.
I reached for the knife tucked carefully beneath my shirt. As I withdrew it, the polished silver blade glittered in the dull light of the single streetlight above us. The man obviously caught a glimpse of the weapon, as he continued to move away from me, still clutching onto his deformed jaw. I playfully exchanged the blade between my hands, moving in on what was now my prey. A sick grin crossed my face, and I shamelessly kicked dirt and pebbles into the man's eyes. He cried out in a mixture of pain, and fear for his own life. I held the blade high. "What a pity… I really had hoped this job wouldn't fall through. And I really wasn't planning on dirtying this blade tonight, but I guess what happens… happens." I narrowed my eyes, and prepared for that final thrust downward.
A whirring sound in the air caught my attention, and momentarily held it elsewhere. I rolled to the side, casting my knife down at the ground, barely dodging what I was led to believe to be… yes, a dart. Its red-plumed end stuck obnoxiously out between two bricks where I'd previously stood. Judging by the angle it was lodged at... I casted a glance up and to my left. There was no one there, but then where had the dart come from? My eyes never lied. A low growl rumbled in my throat, as I cast my attention back toward my shuddering victim, now in the corner of the alleyway.
"That dart… who shot it?" I asked him, advancing toward him with knife in hand. He only groaned in response, and I gave a short while's thought as to how badly I'd actually injured him. No doubt he'd live if I just left him now. "If you tell me who shot it, I'll leave you with your life." Instead of giving me a sensible reply, the man just buried his head into his coat, and starting helplessly weeping. It was as though he'd undergone a personality change, all within a matter of seconds. When he finally looked up again, his eyes became wide in panic.
"B-behind…!" he gasped, covering his face.
I should've thought quicker than I did. Stupid me. There was an acute pain in the side of my neck the next instant, and I let out a sharp hiss of air. "W-what?" I murmured, turning round. There stood a man in the shadows; he simply stood there, cackling. I started toward him, tried to get a better look at my offender, but I came to the sudden realization that he'd hit me with some sort of drugged dart. I reached up to my neck, and pulled it out; it hurt more than the initial injury. I reveled in the intense pain for a moment, and within a few seconds, I was on the ground, struggling for intake of air. This drug, whatever it was, was working fast. I could feel my airway closing up – I felt as though I was taking every breath through a drinking straw.
The fire in my lungs continued to rage as I lifted my head onto my arm, trying to squint through the darkness at the man who still stood laughing. "My dearest, it's best not to struggle," he purred. My eyelids were now overwhelmingly heavy, and I fought to keep my eyes open just the slightest bit. I managed the task of breathing for now, but after each rough intake of air, my lungs screamed out in pain. Every nerve in my body pulsed together in crushing agony. It wasn't long after that I completely lost what composure I'd maintained.
"Damn it." My eyes closed, my breathing stopped. My bones pulled me down, down, into the earth below, and into the rising fires of hell, right where I belonged. I heard the man laughing, and then, there was no sound at all. There was nothing, only blackness.