• The metallic tang of blood overwhelmed my senses. A dull pang of pain began to grow sharper as I slowly drifted back into consciousness, the smell and taste of my own blood becoming more alarming.
    I sat up and looked down at my beaten body. My hands were black with the grime of the alleyway and my clothes were disheveled and torn, splatters of blood decorating my shirt. I raised my hand to my throbbing face. It seemed the cause of the blood had merely been a bloody nose and a cut lip, though judging by the way my left eye was feeling I was soon to be sporting a black eye as well.
    Once I was sure my injuries were minor, I gazed around the dark back street. Curled up against the opposite wall was a bum, whose sleep hadn’t been disturbed by…whatever had happened to me.
    Nothing made sense. I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten here. All I could seem to remember clearly was life up until I was 12 and a few other vague memories; flicks of high school, strangers’ faces, fleeting images…it was a miracle I could remember my own name. All I knew for sure was my name is Luke Abel, I was alone in a strange alley, and I defiantly wasn’t 12 anymore.
    Heaving myself up, I staggered as pain erupted in my leg. I slumped against a filthy wall, exhausted after just waking up. The dark street outside the alley looked like it was still somewhere in the wee hours of the morning. But for all I knew, it was late tomorrow night.
    A pale figure strode along the sidewalk, stopping as it glanced down the alley. It slouched exasperatedly.
    “Jesus Christ, FOUND HIM!”