Rain pelted the narrow street, tiny rivers forming between cobblestones, reflecting neon like shattered mirrors. My boots squelched with every step, the wet rubber sucking and releasing.
Squelch… squelch…
Footsteps echoed behind me slow, deliberate, not matching my pace. Of course. Because life wasn't hard enough already.
"Fantastic. Someone's tailing me. Probably enjoys listening to me whine too," I muttered under my breath. Talking to myself had officially become a full-time job.
I ducked into the shadow of a corner building, pressing my back to the damp brick. Rain dripped steadily from the fire escape above.
Plink… plink… plink…
My pulse thumped, not from fear, well, maybe a little, but from that twisted thrill I'd learned to chase. Whoever was behind me wasn't random. They were patient. They were testing me. Or just bored. Same difference.
Click… click…
Metal on concrete. A car door? A dropped weapon? My ears caught the subtle hiss of water running along the gutter. I tilted my head, straining. Nothing obvious. And yet, every instinct screamed: they know you're paying attention.
I crouched lower, scanning the street ahead. A faint glint near a fire escape caught my eye the same metallic emblem I'd found yesterday, now scratched into the wall like a marker. A breadcrumb trail. Someone wanted me following, keeping score, noticing.
"Of course," I muttered. "Because why not make life more fun by dangling breadcrumbs over a pit of who-knows-what?"
I moved deliberately, testing the sound of my own steps.
Squelch… squelch…
Heart racing, senses sharp. Every puddle, every flickering light, every distant shout became part of the puzzle. Someone or something was playing a game with me. And I had no rulebook.
A voice, low and clipped, whispered from an alley to my left:
"Don't make a sound."
I froze. Instinct screamed hide, retreat, run but curiosity and that damn streak of misfortune pushed me forward. I edged closer to the alley, crouched, careful. Shadows twisted, rain dripping down metal fire escapes.
Drip… drip… drip…
"Really? You want to do this now?" I muttered. "Of course you do."
A figure emerged from the darkness, tall, deliberate, faceless in the neon drizzle. Not moving yet, just watching. The kind of figure that made you reconsider your life choices.
I ducked behind a dumpster, breath shallow.
Rustle… (soft trash)
Clank… (loose shutter)
Tap… tap… tap… (gutter chain)
Every sound sharpened my focus.
"Dylan, congratulations. You're officially on someone's radar. Possibly dinner. Possibly entertainment. Either way, welcome to the club."
The footsteps paused, then continued down the street, fading into the hum of the city, punctuated by distant sirens and the steady drizzle of rain.
Splash… splash…
I straightened, peering into the empty street. My pulse slowed, but my mind raced. Whoever or whatever was following me had made a mistake. I knew the streets better. I noticed things others don't, and soon they'd find out that this wasn't just a game.