Heavy rain showered down from the late night sky onto the cement of the sidewalk. The only three working street lights flickered as they guided stragglers through the almost empty night. Thunder clashed and became more frequent in the distance as a young girl crossed the road, shivering from the rain’s chilly breeze. The squeak of her wet boots echoed in the night, as she made her way to the small Seattle police station. She opened the glass door to find two cops seated behind their desks as they shuffled papers. An older stout man stood behind the main counter where the girl assumed she needed to go. The dark bags under his eyes explained the massive cup of coffee he sipped which probably wasn’t his first cup. The distraught girl appeared disheveled with her chopped shoulder length hair, runny make up, and soaking clothes. She waited in the doorway, hesitant to approach the officer with her problem. 

"May I help you?" The officer behind the counter asked not looking up from the file on his desk. His eyes were only drawn away from his file when the girl didn’t respond. A faint sparkle caught his attention first; it came from the necklace the girl wore around her neck. She moved closer to the desk unsure of what the cop’s reaction would be when he saw her clothes covered with dark red stains. A mass amount of blood absorbing her sweater is not something cops would consider innocent. Her body quivered making it apparent to the officer that she was crying as she got closer. At the sight of all the blood that covered her clothes, the officer’s attention focused solely on her. "Are you alright Miss?"

 "...Yes," her hesitant voice shook partially because she wasn’t even sure herself. "I don't know."

         "I'm Officer Marks," he almost whispered in an attempt to be gentle. "Are you hurt? What's your name?"

         "I'm not hurt. It's not my blood," The girl finally reached the desk and stood against it. She leaned closer to Officer Marks so she only had to whisper what she knew.

         "Can you tell me what happened? Is there someone else who needs help?"  By now the girl captured the attention of the other two officers who were watching them converse. With a late night shift like this they probably had nothing else to do anyway.

 "I woke up in an alley a few blocks from here. I…I can't remember anything." Her hand slipped into the pocket of her black sweatshirt as she pulled out a dagger. The dark gold sheath, contained more traces of blood. The gold had an intricate design as though it originated from a museum. With twisted Celtic knots covering the sheath, the handle formed a vicious gold dragon. When Officer Marks saw what the girl had his eyes widened giving him a deer-in-the-headlights expression. He placed one hand on his gun holster with the other held out toward her, not aware of the girls motives. "I've never seen this before in my life," she placed the weapon on the counter to appease the weary man. “I can’t remember who I am.” 

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