The city didn't shine at night. It flickered.
Neon lights trembled across the wet pavement, and a slow drizzle turned the world into a smear of reflections. Taxis groaned in the distance, and steam rose from sidewalk grates like ghosts. People passed by without seeing him. That was fine. Eliot was used to not being noticed.
He carried a paper bag with one hand, its contents simple a meat bun and a canned coffee, both half-warm. He walked in silence until he reached the riverbank, to the same old bench with its rusted frame and peeling paint. The one place that didn't ask questions.
Eliot sat down with a tired breath and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his coat pocket.
His bucket list.
He smoothed the wrinkles with care.
1. Eat sushi at a real restaurant
2. Confess to someone
3. Ride a bike with no hands
4. Sleep under the stars
5. Get into a fistfight
6. Kiss someone
7. Visit the zoo
8. Dance in the rain
9. Take one day off
10. Die without regrets
He stared at number eight. He had done it. Last night, in the alley beside his apartment, he just stopped walking and spun in the rain with his arms out. No one saw him. No one needed to. It didn't feel magical.
But it was his.
He pulled out a pen and scratched a line through it.
8 — Dance in the rain.
Hours later, after work, Eliot stood on the rooftop of a tall parking garage, empty and silent. Cold wind bit into his face, and the city below looked like a dying constellation. His shift had ended late. His legs were sore, and his fingers ached from lifting hot trays.
He turned to leave, then froze.
A loud, wet sound echoed nearby, like flesh hitting concrete.
He ducked behind a large vent, peering toward the far side of the rooftop.
A girl stood there, panting, body swaying slightly. Blood stained her white uniform, and her long silver hair stuck to her skin. Across from her, hunched in the mist, was something monstrous tall, lanky, with limbs like jagged wires. Its body twitched, its eyes glowing like dying embers.
Eliot didn't move. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.
The creature lunged.
The girl moved fast, spinning low and slicing with a blood-red blade that shimmered out of her arm like a weapon forged from her own veins. She cut the creature across the chest, but it didn't stop. It howled, raised a claw, and slashed her across the side.
She cried out and staggered back, blood pouring from the wound.
"Dammit," she whispered, eyes wide. "I'm slowing down…"
The monster closed in. She tried to form another blade, but her hands were shaking. She looked up.
And saw him.
Eliot.
Just a boy, hiding behind metal, watching everything unfold.
Before he could run, she vanished from her spot and reappeared in front of him. Her hand slammed into his chest, pinning him to the wall.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, breath hot against his skin. "I need this."
Her fangs sank into his neck.
Eliot gasped, his body arching. Pain bloomed — sharp at first, then dull, then… strange.
A warmth spread through him, like fire in his veins. His vision blurred. He felt himself slipping.
The girl clutched him tighter. Her breath hitched. Her body trembled as she drank.
"What… is this…?" she muttered. "This… this isn't normal…"
She pulled away, eyes glowing fiercely.
Her wound — the gash on her side — began to seal. Muscles knitted, skin closed. The pain faded from her face, replaced by something wild.
Power.
She stood straighter, her fingers flexing. A twisted grin curled at her lips.
"I feel amazing."
The monster lunged again, shrieking.
This time, she didn't flinch.
With a burst of red energy, a crimson blade shot from her arm. She dashed forward, her speed doubled, her strength multiplied.
She clashed with the monster, slicing clean through its legs. It roared in agony.
Another cut across the spine.
The final blow came from above, her body flipping midair as she brought her blade down through its head.
The creature hit the ground in pieces, twitching before melting into a pool of black tar that sizzled and evaporated into mist.
She stood over it, panting. Her hand clutched her chest. Her eyes… drifted back to Eliot.
But he was already collapsing.
She rushed to his side, catching him just before he hit the concrete.
His pulse was fading.
His skin, pale.
"…What are you?" she whispered, voice shaky.
Then, everything went dark.
Eliot stirred.
The pain came first a dull ache in his neck, a strange heat in his chest. His eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to unfamiliar light.
He was in a room. A large one.
Soft sheets surrounded him. Warm air hummed from hidden vents. The ceiling above him was white and ornate, and somewhere nearby, water trickled faintly a fountain or maybe a bath.
His shirt was gone. His neck throbbed where the bite had been.
He blinked. Sat up slightly. His vision swam.
He had no idea where he was.
And no memory of how he got here.