Crossroads

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The sunlight was the same as any other day's as it forced its way onto everything and everyone. Shadows and darkness retreated, or at least almost all of them, some stayed. One particular shadow kept walking down the small alleyway as the sun's rays attacked him at all angles. He appeared ordinary in every way except for his refined clothes and concealing sunglasses. He walked past humans with ease, as he followed one particular normal boy.

The boy pushed past people and collided with carts and stands that lined the street of the small farmers' market. People glared at him and the shadow simply followed. Soon they were at a school and the boy went inside just as the bell went. The dark figure waited on the other side of the street and stared at the building.

The figure's chestnut hair fell on his face and curled slightly at his chin. His blood-red eyes glowed under the sunglasses as he adjusted his tie. He wore a smart black jacket and matching trousers that made him appear like a trusting politician or a conman. He stood perfectly still, his arms crossed on his chest as he leaned against a wall that was completely covered with years of graffiti.

When the lunch bell rang he knew what was about to occur and watched with great anticipation. The boy emerged and with him a much larger boy who was holding him by the neck. The figure readied himself as the boy was thrown to the ground. A circle of interested and excited youth formed and the dark figure crossed the street. He had been waiting for this moment and now it was finally here. He opened the school's small gate and walked onto the yard. When he approached the circle the students immediately opened up for him to step through and offer a hand to the bloodied boy on the ground who was now clutching his nose.

The figure tilted his head to one side, smiled, and held out his handbefore saying, “I believe it will be in your best interests if you come with me, Travis,” and the boy grasped his hand and was pulled up. Noticing the fight was over the others left and the boy, Travis, stood there clutching his crooked nose. The figure waved his hand and the nose immediately went back to its original place.

“My name is Victor and I have an offer that I don't think you will want to refuse,” he said and Travis found his speech odd. It was too formal.

“You know me?” Travis asked as he wiped away the blood from his face with his sleeve. He was shaking slightly and tried to remember where he had seen Victor before. There was nothing very memorable about his face.

“Interest,” he said with a shrug, “now about my offer.”

“How do you know me?”

“Interest,” he repeated, “you ask a lot of questions as well, oh how unfortunate for me. Must her charges always be similar?”

“She?” Travis asked looking very confused and he took a step back as if he just realized that he shouldn't have walked away with a strange man.

“She is of no bother anymore. I'm not surprised that you don't know her. Now, about my deal-”

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