The alley

In a buzzing city, the lights of buildings and shops flickered to life one by one as the sun dipped below the horizon. Shadows pooled like ink in a narrow alley where two cloaked figures stood in quiet concealment with their presence hidden by the gloom.

"They must not reach her. We need to complete the task soon," one of them said, his voice raspy and strained, as though his throat had been damaged.

"Don't worry. They won't get close," the second figure replied, his tone laced with cunning confidence.

"Your arrogance could ruin everything," the first figure hissed, stepping closer. "You know how Master is—she won't spare your soul if this fails. And don't forget the essence. Burn that into your mind."

The second figure scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk. "You're panicking over nothing. That pureblood sucker won't even know what hit him."

The first figure stiffened, his shadowy form looming closer. "You fool," he spat, turning his voice low. "Do not underestimate him. If he comes to his senses before we finish—" He let the unspoken consequences hang in the air like a noose tightening around them.

"Fine, fine," the second figure said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "We'll move fast. No need to act like the world's about to end."

"It will end for us if we fail," the first snapped, before giving a final warning glance. "Now move. Time is scarce."

And with that, he dissolved into the shadows like smoke on the wind, leaving the second figure standing alone for a moment before he too melted into the darkness.

Across the city, in a desolate alley, a streetlamp flickered weakly, its glow struggling against the growing darkness. The pale light sputtered, casting jagged shadows along the damp brick walls streaked with moss where Each flicker sent the shadows stretching and twisting, as if alive, while the faint hum of the bulb added to the eerie stillness of the alley.

A girl trudged through it, her shoulders hunched beneath the weight of the bag slung over one arm and another clutched tightly in her hand. Her steps were brisk, but there was an edge of fatigue to her movements, as if she were forcing herself forward despite the ache in her legs. Her sneakers scuffed against the cracked pavement, breaking the oppressive silence of the alley.

Liriel glanced over her shoulder, her brown eyes wide with unease. Every shadow seemed to stretch with menace, as if someone might leap out at her any second.

The alley wasn't unfamiliar to her, It wasn't an ideal route home, but it was the only one she could afford, just like her cramped apartment at the end of the block, and also the reason She always tried to get back from her part-time job before dark, but today her senior had dumped extra work on her, forcing her to take the haunting alley later than usual.

On a night like this, she wished she'd had someone waiting for her by the door, looking out for her. Back in high school, she used to watch other kids run to their parents waiting by the roadside after late-night study sessions, leaving her behind to walk the empty streets alone. Her aunt and uncle had always been at work by then, and she didn't blame them—they'd already done more for her than she could ask. Now that she lived alone, it was a question she rarely let herself entertain. But on nights like this, the ache of longing for someone grew sharp, and she wondered if a hug or a warm voice might have made the tiredness feel worth it.

A sharp noise echoed behind her—a faint scrape, like a footstep against stone snapping her out of thought. Her heart leaped into her throat, she quickened her pace without daring to look back. It had to be her overactive, frightened mind—conjuring haunting scenarios from the smallest disturbances, fed by the oppressive stillness and flickering light of the alley around her.

But the presence behind her grew closer. She could feel it—hear it. The faint scuff of shoes on concrete, the weight of someone almost upon her. She gripped the strap of her bag tighter and sped up, but her legs froze over in panic halting her step while the noise behind also went silent.

Mustering up courage, Liriel spun around. But she barely had time to process the shadow looming over her before pain exploded through her chest.

A gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled back with her back hitting the cold, hard ground. Her groceries scattered across the pavement, an orange rolling into the gutter.

Above her, a hooded figure loomed, their face hidden in shadow. The dim light of the streetlamp barely caught the edge of their form, leaving them half-consumed by darkness. Her gaze dropped to the weapon—a crude wooden stake embedded in her chest, slick with blood slowly turning her white hoodie into crimson.

"This time, you won't escape so easily" the figure whispered, their voice cold and detached.

Liriel's lips parted, but no sound came out. She tried to push herself back, but her body wouldn't obey. The sound of a car horn down the lane disrupted the suffocating silence, jolting her out from the shock and she watched as the figure disappear, dissolving into the shadows like they were never there, she found it hard to comprehend what just happened.

A ghost? A hallucination?

Her trembling hand reached for the stake buried in her chest and the pain flared up white hot leaving her gasping as the blood seeped through her fingers, staining the cold pavement beneath her.

Is this how she dies.

But why? She never intentionally hurt anyone. Why would they do this to her?

Her thoughts tumbled over each other in desperation. She hadn't tasted all the foods she wanted to. She hadn't experienced love—not even a fleeting romance. She hadn't reread the book she stayed up devouring last night.

This couldn't be it.

Her trembling fingers clawed at the ground beside her, searching for her bag. She dragged it toward her and her blood smeared across the fabric as she fumbled to open it, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she felt her strength slipping away with each passing second.

Her phone. She needed her phone.

Her hand brushed against something else instead—a hard, smooth surface. The book.

Warmth spread through her fingertips as she touched it, a stark contrast to the icy numbness that had overtaken her. The sensation startled her, jolting her from the fog of pain.

The warmth grew stronger, radiating up her arm. It felt… alive, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

Her vision blurred with the world growing colder as the book in her grasp pulsed one last time. Before darkness swallowed her whole, a faint whisper reached her ears, soft yet sharp..

Fate bends for no one... but for you, it bends again.