Mila lies motionless surrounded by piles of trash. A rat scurries around her, but she doesn’t notice. Minutes go by before her senses begin their return. First, the sounds of the city pierce the silence of her shock until it becomes a deafening cacophony of noise. Then the smells of the alley make their assault. An overpowering aroma of rott assaults her senses and sends her puking. She reaches for support and finds none. A yellow liquid evacuates her stomach and mixes with a mysterious mixture of liquids leaking from somewhere within the pile.

“Get the fuck out of here!” A disembodied voice shouts from somewhere above her. The sound of a heavy object lands nearby with a heavy thud. The threat is enough to raise her from her shock. It takes all her strength to get to her feet. She picks up her bag, clutches at her spellbook, and makes her shaky retreat from the alley. Her feet feel heavy as she maneuvers over the piles of trash.

She falls a few times, but eventually, she exits into a busy street. A dense crowd moves in both directions, their voices merging in an incoherent babble. The buildings disappear into the dense cloud of smog above them. The face of each building is covered in neon signs and digital billboards advertising casinos, brothels, and other vices.

Mila joins the current. Her hands shake. Her eyes dart between oddities. This was nothing like home. Half-naked men and women call from doorways and windows. “Comon mami, I’ll take care of you.” She steps over dazed junkies who stare blankly into space, and others who seem lifeless behind their VR headsets. She walks around makeshift campfires of men and women who glare at her with hostile intent. “I got what you need!” A man posted by one of the lamplight yells as he flashes a strange vile.

Her heart begins to race. People bump up against her as they move around her. The smoke chokes her. She gasps for air but nothing seems to fill her lungs. She panics and runs for the nearest ally. She finds a space away from the madness to catch her breath. The noise carries into the alley, but at least she has room to breathe. She sits up against a wall. The cool feel of the wall relaxes her. The darkness around her relaxes her. She breathes deeply. Even the putrid smell of the alley relaxes her.

“Looks like we got a fresh one,” a raspy voice reaches from the darkness.

Another voice giggles. Two figures emerge from the shadows. One is a slender rat-faced man with long greasy hair. His skin is covered with acne and scars. His clothes fit baggy on his slender body and he walks in a hunch. A beast of a man walks behind him. He sports the same greasy haircut but walks with a confident sway. He seems to barely fit the alley, and even at this distance, he towers over Mila. The two stop a few feet away. Mila clutches at her book.

“You’re new here so I’ll fill you in on how things work her.” The slender one continues. He flashes a yellow smile. “This is our turf and you are here illegally.” He takes a step forward. His musk is stale. Mila tries to back away, but the wall blocks her exit. Her heart races.

“Please…” she lets out.

“Hey, we’re reasonable guys. Just give us your stuff, and we’ll leave.”

“But..” She begins to protest, but the words fail to come.

The slender man crouches to where he is slightly above her. His smell is worse than the ally. He flashes his yellowed crooked teeth. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way mija. We’re leaving with your stuff.” The giant cracks his knuckles above them. Milla lets go of the bag as the rat-faced man takes it. His free hand points at the book. “That too.”

Mila clutches it tightly, bringing it close to her. “I can’t…” she makes out.

His hand grabs at her. It feels bony and his skin scratches at her. “That’s not how this works.” His fingers grip her wrists tightly and pull at her violently. Tears begin to swell in her eyes as she tries to pull away. Her foot flies instinctively at the man, pushing him away with a sudden kick. She turns to run down the alley, but a powerful hand comes down on her before she can take her first step. The giant lifts her. She struggles uselessly under his grip. The rat-faced man scrambles to his feet. He appears flustered. “Now you’ve done it!”

“You’re done Rata! Scurry back to your hole.” A third voice reaches from the shadow. Another slender finger emerges behind it. He wears a plain white baseball cap and his black shirt and jeans are a few sizes too big. His right arm is black with ink of a tattoo depicting a skeleton. It wraps around his forearm. Another tattoo reaches across his neck at his chin.

“Fuck off Sad Boy. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Business with my client concerns me plenty.” Sad Boy stands at the end of the alley.

“We found her first, her stuffs ours!” The slender man protests.

“That’s not what my friend heard,” Sad Boy rebukes, lifting his shirt to reveal the polished handle of a revolver. A small silver cross hangs from a chain attached to the bottom.

Rata looks at the gun pensively for a moment before letting out a frustrated growl. “Fine. Lets go.” The pair turn to leave.

“The bag stays,” Sad Boy adds. Rata tosses it violently at the wall without looking back.

Sad Boy goes over to pick up the bag. Mila watches him from her place on the ground. “You good?” He asks as he reaches down to give her a hand. Mila eyes his hand suspiciously. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now.” He helps Mila to her feet. “Can you talk?”

“I can talk..” Mila replies, almost in a whisper.

“Good, this makes things a little easier.” He smiles. “I am here to provide you with an invaluable service. For a small fee, I will be your guide, protector, and mentor and help you to become a respectable member of old town…” he pauses and eyes her up and down. “You have money right?”

Mila nods remembering the envelope her grandmother handed her before pushing her into this nightmare.

“Perfect!” He clasps his hands loudly. “Welcome to Old Town!”