The List

As I walk away from the scene, I unfurl the list.

Swan Strauss 

Dane Brandt 

Axel Harting

Nissa Montview

Robbin Shultz

Runway Michaels

Tyr Lynx

Swan Strauss, who's body lies dead and cold in the winter air. Dane Brandt, who was killed by my hand a few nights ago. Axel Harting and Runway Michaels, both loyal lapdogs. Robbin Shultz, never heard of him. Nissa Montview, queen of the Lighters. And Tyr Lynx.

If I'm going to kill them, Tyr will be the last. He will live to suffer through the deaths of his companions, to wait for his turn on the chopping block, to feel the terrifying realization that his death happens now.

And I am going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all. Whatever they say Angelo was doing that night, I still refuse to believe. But I am going to avenge him. They think they're going to kill me? I'll just have to get them first.

I crush the note in my hand, stuffing it into the pocket of my hoodie. It's quiet tonight. Even the never ending sirens are dampened, replaced by my new reality. It is no longer Erica's game, no, it's mine. Behind me, Swan's body is growing cold, covered by a soft blanket of snow that is delicately falling. Soon, the unfortunate boy will be found. Unlike Dane, abandoned in the depths of an alley, wealthier citizens will find him, screaming at the sight of his pale skin and glazed over eyes. Fingers will be pointed, some even at me. But I have a secret weapon- Eli, the boy who will believe in me until the end.

Enjoying the fresh snow, I stop a few blocks away, resting before I return home to Ianus's rage. In the midst of the snow, a figure stops about ten feet away from me.

"D-do you have any food?" says the voice of a young child.

"Sorry, kid," I reply. "Hey, come over here. You must be freezing." A little girl emerges from the darkness, dressed in the familiar dark rags of poverty. Just like me, before I met Angelo. When it was just me, trying to make Ianus proud. She lifts her hood, and I see her dark, purple hair is in two intricate braids, with a slight red tinge. Her blue skin is reminiscent of a corpse, so slight that you wouldn't normally notice it, but I do. Just the slightest tint of blue is a red flag to me. 

She shuffles over to me, sitting beside me on the bench. "Are you a Lighter? Lighters usually aren't so nice."

I sigh. "It's complicated, kid."

"That's okay. It's just that Aria wanted to know," she replies. I furrow my brow. What's she talking about? The girl looks up at me. "But I guess you can tell her yourself."

Before I can respond, she jumps up, pulling something out of her pocket. Instantly, she has it aimed at my neck, and I feel the cold metal of a gun.

"P-please!" I wheeze. "I didn't- what-please-"

"This will only hurt a little," she promises.

There's a sharp pain, and then there's only darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then suddenly there's light.

A bag is taken off of my head. I assess the surroundings. It looks like I'm in one of the many abandoned skyscrapers around the city. Unfinished floor, with nothing but an elevator in the center, dusty floor covered with tarps, walls all concrete or glass. Some of the ceiling to floor windows are smashed or gone, leaving open spaces in the wall.

I'm tied to a chair, wrists behind me, ankles to the base, with a gag around my mouth. In front of me is a platform raised on cinderblocks, upon which there are several chairs.

And around me are aliens. Dozens of them, all around my age or younger, dressed in everything from rags to cocktail dresses and tuxedoes. Unlike the ones on the street, these aliens make no effort to hide themselves, flaunting their purple hair in large hairstyles, the girls painting their tinted faces with a darker blue to accentuate the color. Almost no one wears gloves to cover the patterns on their hands. Some have them brighter than others, having gone through surgery to get them to glow brighter colors. They speak an alien language, one that I cannot understand.

On the dais, a girl presides. She's older than me, though not by much. And I can instantly tell that she is only half-alien. She has beautiful Asian features that regard me with distaste, and her hair is dyed a dark reddish purple, in a sleek high ponytail that reaches down to her waist. Her skin is a light blue, not painted, but her makeup makes up for that with a dramatic cat-eye and dark purple lipstick. She wears an off the shoulder crop top paired with a black skirt and tall black boots. 

And I'm terrified of her.

And also maybe in love.

Suddenly, she claps her hands, bringing the room to attention.

"Let's make this quick."