SHADOWS

Epilogue

A small apartment. Quiet, old, and the home of a college graduate who just clunked out on his couch after 21 hours of straight anime. The room was illuminated in the darkness by a single tv, static filling the screen and smothering the person on his couch with white, black, and grey flickering lies traveling across his screen.  The room smelled of ramen, grandma perfume, and of dust.
  The short, 5'5 boy was very pale, and had white, snowish hair that was in a slight ponytail. His eyes were completely black due to some child hood trauma and a friend who didn't know that cliffs hurt. Moving on.
  He was poor, since having no job, and was waiting to apply for one. He had an old blanket draped over his form that was purple but slowly fading, with an old faded red pillow case over a pillow made from wool that has long since turned bumpy.
  He snored as the traffic fifty feet below his window honked and sputtered on the roads, the music of the dirty end of the city well tuned out by deep sleep.
   He was dreaming about a giraffe that could talk named Garb when his doorbell rang repeatedly, which barely disturbed him. After the ringing turned into polite knocks, and then forceful hammering in the door, the visitor he knew quite well kicked down his door and slammed it behind him, hitting the wall of the hallway of the apartment, which finally nudged the boy out of his sleep.
  "Hey, Alcatraz.. good job getting the door for me." A deep, gravely voice mumbled from a tall figure walking towards him. Leather shoes thumped against the hardwood floors of Alcatraz's shitty apartment, and then the owner of them patted his head and lit a cigar. Police sirens squealed in the distance, flying past the apartment. The dark man with the cigar chuckled, "And they won't find me. Hah." His deep voice bumbled around the room, as Alcatraz sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, wiping the white locks from his face, the and squinting at the man.
"..the fuck?" Alcatraz asked, kind of mad that he had to find a new way to fix the door. He looked up at the rough figure, looking into his dark eyes, surrounded by a scarred left eye and tan skin, with black hair slicked back and slight stubble on his cheeks and chin.
The man cracked a smile and laughed, "The kid swears! Look at tha-" Alcatraz cut him off. "Dude! I have no money! And no stealing from the strip club down the street isn't happening again, I have their bartender stalking me now." He shot at him, trying to curl deeper into the blankets.
"Well, you have no door, I'm not in trouble with the cops anymore, seems like a worthy trade," The dark man sat down by Alcatraz's feet, "I'll get my people to work on it for you. You don't worry about a thing." He patted the pale boy's calf, which caused him to bury himself deeper into the blankets. "Why them? They stole all my cheese last time."
The roughed dude shrugged.
"vINCENT-"