{"id":4371,"date":"2025-05-02T00:00:31","date_gmt":"2025-05-02T04:00:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ontheflipsidecomics.com\/?p=4371"},"modified":"2025-05-13T01:32:37","modified_gmt":"2025-05-13T05:32:37","slug":"the-bleeding-city-ep-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ontheflipsidecomics.com\/en\/2025\/05\/02\/the-bleeding-city-ep-1\/","title":{"rendered":"The Bleeding City: Ep 1"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Prologue<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Julius stared at the mirror, and one man wearing two different faces looked back at him. It\u2019d been like that for a long time, now. It used to be more than two; it used to be a dozen different faces would stare back. The faces had slowly whittled down, year after year, until now there were only two left. Julius would look in the mirror, no matter where in the world he found himself, and he\u2019d try to decide which face looked more like him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t come to a conclusion, yet. But it felt like he was getting close.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There was a knock on the door.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOne minute,\u201d Julius said. Whispered, really, because his attention didn\u2019t shift from the faces in the mirror. Both men in the mirror looked more or less the same, but they couldn\u2019t have been more different.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 One of them had sad eyes. Expressive eyes. Etched in those eyes were a lot of things that had happened, a lot of things that those eyes had seen. The expression was worn, it was world-weary. An expression that had weathered plenty of storms and had come out the other side cracked and chipped for it all. He\u2019d seen this face in people his whole life, the face of people who had lived a lot of life and found that life had lived them and they hadn\u2019t lived life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The other face smiled. It was a smile devoid of light, but not devoid of life. There was a glee there, but it was a glee that pulled in the light from around it like a void. The smile wasn\u2019t charming, or natural. The expression it wore seemed like an animal wearing a human mask, and it didn\u2019t, or couldn\u2019t, quite hit the right buttons. But where the other face seemed chipped, seemed worn; this face seemed whole. More than anything, this face seemed indestructible. Like it could walk down every path every other face he\u2019d ever worn had walked and come out the other side of it all looking exactly the same.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The knock on the door was more forceful this time. Both of Julius\u2019s faces reacted to the knocking<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The face with the sad eyes looked to the door like an animal looking to the door of its cage.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The face with the smile looked at the door, and its smile widened.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The door pounded, and Julius walked towards the door.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When he opened the door, the man outside look irritated. After he saw Julius\u2019s face, the man looked surprised, then worried. When Julius grabbed the man, pulled him into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him, the man\u2019s face looked scared.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When Julius pulled out his knife, he saw the man\u2019s face shatter like so many others had before.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After Julius finished, he went to the sink and turned it on, washing his knife and washing his hands. He looked up at the mirror.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For the first time in as long as he could remember, only one face looked back at him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And that face smiled.<\/p>\n\n

\u00a0<\/h3>\n
Chapter One<\/span><\/h5>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 For some reason, dying was different this time. I\u2019d been shot in the head (on two different occasions), shot in the chest, shot in the leg and<\/em> the head (lotta getting shot), stabbed in the throat, beaten to death with a pipe, beaten to death with bare hands, hung from the edge of a building, and drowned in a river. Those had all went pretty much the same. Dying (at least in my experience) was a quick process; a hell of a lot easier than falling asleep and waking up. At a certain point someone hits an off-switch and it\u2019s a smash to black, followed by feeling like somebody had thrown me into a bucket of ice with me doing my best not to piss myself as I came back to life in that empty basement, butt naked. This time they\u2019d dropped a building on me, and while I had to give them points for creativity, I didn\u2019t really see why this time should be any different.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But it was.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m\u2026 here. Stuck in some kind of in-between place. For the first time in quite a while, I wonder if I\u2019m actually going to die. Like, permanently: life membership card revoked, no take-backs, kindly make your way down the stairs, sir.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Something is wrong.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh? I hadn\u2019t noticed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I don\u2019t need sass. Give me a minute and I\u2019ll\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>I was pulled sideways at light-speed. It felt like someone stuck a hook in my consciousness and pulled me to the side so fast that if I\u2019d actually had a stomach right now I would\u2019ve thrown up. I could feel the City, everything that I\u2019d known the last few months, stayed exactly where it was while I was pulled away through a blackness that felt like a blanket covering whatever was actually out there. There was a distance between me and everybody in the City that I cared about: Max, Dame, Ginny and Tom, the Bagel Guy, George the Pigeon Man; and between me and the people I\u2019d been doing my absolute damnedest to stop: namely Julius, but also Marion, the Bone Collector, and Patriarch.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Most of all, I could feel the tether between me and The Bleeding City being stretched to its limit. Whatever was happening to me was undoing whatever had<\/em> happened to me to connect me to the City. To, as long as I was in the city, keep bringing me back from the dead to save it. I still had things to finish before this final fade to black.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I had wrongs to, if not right, at least make my peace with.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But if whatever was happening wasn\u2019t fixed soon, that tether connecting me to The Bleeding City was going to snap. I would die. And if I died, The Bleeding City wasn\u2019t going to be far behind. I didn\u2019t know what to do, I didn\u2019t know how to fix this<\/em>; if I could just\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Whatever fishhook was pulling me by the soul stopped, and the immediate stillness was more disorienting than getting pulled away at light-speed in the first place. I dangled for a second, still blind to whatever was around me, until a click turned on a dim light behind me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I looked around. I was sitting in a red chair, the cushion fraying and soft. There were wooden armrests on either side, a cup holder in each one. In every direction were more seats, all of them empty. The seats in front of me slowly sloped down, and the seats behind me rose until they met the wall. Back above those seats there was a rectangular hole in the wall. Through the hole, that dim light shone through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The dim light was a projector. I turned to face the screen in the front. I was in a movie theater.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And on the screen was my life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

___<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 It was raining. It always seems like it\u2019s raining when everything goes to shit, doesn\u2019t it? It was raining and everything had gone to shit, and for the first time in my life, I looked at myself and saw my real reflection instead of the funhouse mirror reflection of myself that I\u2019d made up in my head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019d made a mistake. I\u2019d made a truly horrific mistake, and it wasn\u2019t something that I could take back and it wasn\u2019t something that I could fix. It was the kind of thing that makes people look at you differently for the rest of your life. The kind of thing you can\u2019t escape; instead it becomes part of you, and you have to live with it until you die with it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 I couldn\u2019t face it. So I tried to run from it, instead.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I ended up in The Bleeding City. Which, y\u2019know, probably isn\u2019t exactly the place you want to end up? But I bought a ticket for the first bus out of town, and at the time, \u2018Out\u2019 had seemed good enough. Now that I was here, now that I\u2019d stepped out of the bus and the sun was setting through the skyline of the most dangerous city on earth, I had to admit that it had a kind of morbid beauty to it. Like a gravestone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And anyways, I figured that a place like this was probably where a guy like me belonged. That wasn\u2019t a thought in the forefront of my mind, not at that point, but it was back there somewhere, whispering.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I was going to have to find some food. Because I hadn\u2019t eaten since The Incident (which I had already begun constructing walls around in my mind, lest I slip back into it and end up staring into the void again). That had been (I looked at my phone) fifteen hours ago, now. I had been\u2026 empty, for a few hours after it had happened. Or maybe not empty, but full of something like TV static. Something vaguely buzzing and indefinable. And once that had gone away it\u2019d been replaced with ice, a kind of panic that overrode every other impulse in my brain. That was around the time that I realized my father would probably never speak to me again, and that while I really, really wanted him to tell me that everything was all right, I knew it wasn\u2019t all right and that any conversation with him was going to make everything worse. Because having a conversation with him where he didn\u2019t say it was alright (which he wouldn\u2019t, because it wasn\u2019t) would make what happened feel so much more real. Would make it not just real for me, would not just solidify it into a personal Hell, but would fully realize it as a Hell that I\u2019d made for plenty of people. A Hell that none of them could escape, either.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And I couldn\u2019t talk to the person I wanted to talk to about it more than anybody else. \u201cBecause I\u2019m dead,\u201d my dead mom said, the same expression of shock and pain frozen on her face as the last time I\u2019d seen her. At The Incident. (I laid another brick on the wall I was building. It wasn\u2019t tall enough.)<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I looked at the skyscrapers of The Bleeding City. I wondered if those walls would be enough, or if I\u2019d need something taller than those, too.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

___<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The red chair was comfortable, but the fact that I was somewhere in between life and death quite literally watching my life play in front of my eyes and was getting comfortable<\/em> wasn\u2019t lost on me. It wasn\u2019t like I\u2019d forgotten any of this, had I? It\u2019d be three goddamn months ago, and somewhere in the middle of the most formative moment of my twenty-three years of life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Can you hear me? <\/em>The City was quiet; not a whisper, more like hearing a voice through a wall.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You gonna get me the hell out of here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I told you I\u2019m working on it. Something\u2019s wrong with the basement.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>What\u2019s wrong with the basement?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Something.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>Great. Now who\u2019s got sass?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For Christ\u2019s sake, stop asking questions. Something grabbed you. I don\u2019t know what it is. Tell me what you see.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>I\u2019m in a theatre watching a movie some asshole made about me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2026a theater.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>I absolutely do not want to be here for the final act. So if you could hurry up and do whatever it is you need to do to get me the hell out of here, that\u2019d be awesome.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>What? What do you know that I should know?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Is there anyone in there with you?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I looked around, hackles raised. Every other seat in the darkened theater was empty. But whether it was my imagination or what, it did feel like there was someone (something<\/em>) watching me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>No? Should there be?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Things are going to get worse.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>This sucks. This sucks and I hate this.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m doing what I can. Don\u2019t let–<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>The City fell silent, like a plug had been pulled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I slid a little further down my chair and glanced around the empty theater one more time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

___<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She followed me everywhere I went. I knew in the back of my head that I couldn\u2019t lose her, but I wandered a convoluted path down random streets anyways.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I bought a sandwich and sat in the deli by the window. She stood outside the window, watching me eat. I sat on the sidewalk. She sat beside me, watching me. I rode the subway. She stood in the center of the train car. Watching me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I stepped off the subway at no particular stop, for no particular reason. I could feel her walking right beside me, watching me. I started trying to lay another brick on the wall I was building and gave up midway through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I climbed the stairs out of the subway station, my feet the only footsteps echoing through the tunnel. That was important, probably. Probably if no one else stopped at this stop at this time of night, I shouldn\u2019t either. Then I considered how things could possibly get any worse. And whether I cared if they did.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Back outside on the street, it was dark. Which meant it had officially been one day since The Incident. (Red and blue lights bounced off the broken glass lying across the street, and it was the only light reflecting in her dead eyes watching me<\/em>–) There were only a couple other people around. One homeless guy lay sleeping on the sidewalk by the subway entrance\/exit, another someone wandered drunken around the corner. I\u2019d ended up on the outskirt of the city, and on a rocky hill sloping up in front of me sat an Observatory.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I dropped my wallet on the ground beside the sleeping homeless guy, and walked towards the Observatory.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

___<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The screen started closing from the edges towards the center in a circle until the entire screen went black. It was quiet. Quiet enough that I could hear my own breathing, much louder than it should have been. I held my breath.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI know who you are.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I wonder if you do, too?<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Something moved in front of me. From where the Voice came from. It was a clean Voice, a distinct Voice. A Voice that almost sounded like singing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were shattered. And with those pieces, you began building something new.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Do you think you found all of the old pieces? Or is this new you less than the old you?<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Straight ahead, three rows down. Something, a dark shape, was speaking. It looked like it was facing me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cOften we can\u2019t tell who we are alone. We cannot give ourselves form in void. Sometimes it takes another for us to see our own shape.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I can show you. But to show you you, I must show you another, too.<\/strong>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The dark shape rose up over the seat. Gracefully, not a wasted movement in it. Like a dancer. I could not see any features on its face, (there were no features anywhere, it was just black<\/em>) but it never stopped looking at me. It slinked over the top of the seats towards me on its hands and feet, stopping a foot from my face. It had no warmth. It had no smell.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like to see?<\/strong>\u201d\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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I didn\u2019t answer. The truth was, I wasn\u2019t sure. I didn\u2019t know what I was going to see. And I was worried what would happen if I didn\u2019t like what I saw.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I was worried what I would do if I didn\u2019t like what I saw.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But I didn\u2019t see any other choice. So I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I still couldn\u2019t see its face. But, in the place where its cheeks would be, it stretched at either side. Like it was smiling.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It crawled backwards into its seat, like it was in reverse, in less than a second. Soundlessly. The projector clicked back on.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I knew what it was going to show me next.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It was called the Franklin and Frost Observatory (there was a poem written underneath the name on the sign, but it had worn away) and it was closed. The sign said it closed at midnight, which I guess meant that it was past midnight. I didn\u2019t know how long I\u2019d rode around on the subway, but it must have been awhile. It didn\u2019t matter, really. It didn\u2019t matter what time it was. Even if I wasn\u2019t quite sure why I was here, I knew what I was here for. She stood beside me, looking at me while I looked at the sign.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There was a walkway around the Observatory, around the edge of the section of hill that ended in a cliff, and I walked that way. It was clear and cool outside. Only a few wisps of cloud above. The light pollution made the stars harder to see than they should be, but it was still nice. Looking up at the stars made it a little harder to tell that she was standing there. Looking at me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Around the back of the Observatory, I leaned on the railing overlooking the cliff. Something about leaning forward on the railing made me feel different. Not better or worse, just different. Like I\u2019d reached a conclusion, somehow, the end of the line in a train of thoughts that I wasn\u2019t aware I was having. I looked away from the stars and looked down, instead. It wasn\u2019t a huge cliff, but it wasn\u2019t a particularly friendly looking cliff, either. Small juts of rock shot out here and there, and the slope back to even ground was harsh, a few dozen feet below. There was trash down there, wrappers and bottles and paper, mingled in with the grass and weeds and roots. I wondered how long it would take. To be there. The fall. A few seconds, probably. Would it feel longer than that, or would it feel shorter? Would she fall with me, looking at me the whole way?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t usually see anybody out here this late.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I very nearly fell forward over the railing in surprise. I caught the railing with a hand, gripped it tight enough to stop me lurching forward, so tight something in my hand screamed. My heart hammered hard enough that I would be surprised if it wasn\u2019t visible through my shirt, like a cartoon character falling in love.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 An old man sat on a bench behind me, dressed in a trench coat and a hat. His cane leaned against the bench beside him. He smiled. \u201cSorry, didn\u2019t mean to scare ya. I\u2019ve been sitting here the whole time, but it looked like you had something on your mind. Didn\u2019t figure you saw me. Can\u2019t blame ya. Not many people out here this late, like I said.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know what to say. I felt like I\u2019d been caught with my pants down, like this was an intimate moment. The Old Man looked me in the eyes long enough, carefully enough, that I was certain he knew what I\u2019d been thinking.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After a moment, he moved his eyes from mine and to the stars.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve lived in this city my whole life. Always been kind of hard to see the stars from here, y\u2019know? All the lights, all the smog. It\u2019s gotten worse, but it was never really any good. But I\u2019d grown up here, and I didn\u2019t know any better. I\u2019d look up at the stars when I was a kid and it felt like I could see the whole universe.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI was a kid, when we sent the first man into space. Changed my life. It felt like we\u2019d pulled off a magic trick, like we\u2019d pulled off something God himself never thought we could do. I needed it. It was a rough time, and I needed a reason to look up instead of look around. I think everybody needs that, at some point or another. And if they don\u2019t get it, they might stop looking up, y\u2019know? Might stop looking up for good. That\u2019s when people throw in the towel. When they can\u2019t find a reason.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I stood, listening. After a moment, I sat down on the bench next to the Old Man.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI went away to University, long time ago now. Couldn\u2019t stand it. Liked the school, liked what I was studying. But it wasn\u2019t here. I\u2019d look up at the stars at night, and see stars I\u2019d never seen before. Felt like there were strangers in the sky. Made me feel like I was on a different planet. I moved back here that same week. Haven\u2019t left since.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I looked at the Old Man.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDo you regret it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cStaying here? No. Not at all. This city\u2019s my home. It\u2019s had some rough times, but it\u2019s my home. It holds my stars, and sometimes I still need them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We sat in silence for a moment. I wondered what it must be like, knowing where your stars were. The Old Man stared at the sky, and I stared at my hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI can\u2019t find a reason,\u201d I said quietly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSometimes there isn\u2019t one. But that doesn\u2019t mean a reason isn\u2019t on its way,\u201d the Old Man said. \u201cYou just have to get back up and be ready for it when it comes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I looked over at the Old Man staring at the stars. He looked lost in his thoughts, but he had a smile in there, somewhere.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Something loud happened. A lot of things happened at the same time, actually, and none of them seemed to register correctly. My ears started ringing, but I couldn\u2019t remember what sound had started them ringing. The Old Man lurched forward, ducking down towards the ground headfirst. Something warm and wet splashed across the side of my face and into my eye. I followed the Old Man down towards the ground, falling more than ducking. I hit my head on the pavement, and after a second, the eye without the blood in it focused on the Old Man\u2019s face and I saw that he was dead. There was a hole where his right eye had been, the eye closest to the ground. Around his head was a pool of blood leaking out of his eyehole like a bottle that had been tipped on its side, spilling over the ground.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Behind the dead Old Man, a foot stepped out from behind the bench. It wore a nice shoe, something dark and sleek; it was hard to tell exactly what color in the night. It looked expensive. There were pants above the shoe, whatever color they were the same color as the shoes. I followed the pants up to a white shirt and dark vest, someone tall enough to steal glances wherever they were. It was hard to tell exactly how tall they were from the ground. They looked down at me, wearing a smile that seemed predatory. The smile stopped just below the eyes, as if the eyes absorbed the expression entirely.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t the smile of a madman. It was the smile of someone who was perfectly, pointedly aware of who they were and of what they were doing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHello! My apologies for interrupting what seemed to be a touching discussion. I\u2019m new to town, you see. Just got off the train! And I just had to see The Bleeding City from all the way up here.\u201d He lifted the gun and fired a shot into my leg, just above my knee, almost lazily. Didn\u2019t even look where he was shooting. I heard the gunshot this time, and the sound seemed to match the pain.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Man turned towards the city, hands on his hips like he was surveying a piece of art. I tried breathing and found it only came in deep, grunting breaths.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s strange. I\u2019ve been everywhere, all around the world. I\u2019ve been to cities that are bigger than this one. Cities that are more beautiful than this one. Cities where I was welcome, and cities where I wasn\u2019t. In all of them, I learned something. In all of them, I became a little more myself. But here, this city\u2026 can you hear it? This city has music.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I gave up trying to squeeze my leg to keep pressure on the wound and instead starting quietly trying to get to my feet. I couldn\u2019t seem to bend my bad leg, but I got to my feet without it and let it drag behind me as I lunged at the Man facing the city.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He sidestepped me without turning around. My forehead smacked into the railing, splitting both of my eyebrows. I bounced off the railing and back to the ground.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cShh shh shh. Listen. Listen to the city. Can you hear it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And by god, I could hear something. Not a melody, not exactly. But something slow. Mournful. Something beautiful.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It sounded like a soul.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Man crouched down beside me, him looking at the city, me with my back on the railing, facing the dead Old Man on the ground. \u201cMy name is Julius. What\u2019s yours?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cEat shit.\u201d My voice came out softer than I expected. Blood was coming out of my leg faster than I thought possible.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHm. I want to thank you. For sharing this moment with me. I\u2019ve looked around for a long time. To figure out who I needed to be, and to find the place where I could know my purpose.\u201d Julius was quiet for a moment, listening to the music. \u201cTo think. I\u2019d find them both on the same day. In the same place. And one of those moments I shared with you. So thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Julius turned from the city and looked me in the eyes. I felt the gun against the side of my head. I tried to look up at the stars, but the blood from my head was pouring into my eyes, and everything was turning black.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The last thing I remember is being mad. Mad that I wasn\u2019t going to get the chance to get back up. Mad that I wouldn\u2019t be here when my reason found me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mad that I wasn\u2019t going to get the chance to find my stars.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then the music faded, and everything was quiet and still.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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Check out our hero's gear on Amazon:<\/a><\/h4>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t
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Prologue \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Julius stared at the mirror, and one man wearing two different faces looked back at him. It\u2019d been like that for a long time, now. It used to be more than two; it used to be a dozen different faces would stare back. The faces had slowly whittled down, year after year, until […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":915,"featured_media":4373,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center 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