It was afternoon. The sky was gray, desolate, little drops of silver rain already beginning to fall on the heads of the group of young boys that sat huddled around the dying fire. At random times one boy would nudge another out of the way to get closer, and the nudged one would nudge back until it almost turned into a fight and the oldest looking boy knocked their heads together. Even then he only looked 14.

“Have you heard of the legend of the old church?” one of the older boys suddenly whispered, purposely darkening his voice. One of the younger ones shivered, and almost everyone shook their heads.

“I have,” piped up one, his eyes smiling where his mouth wasn’t.

“Well you can shut up then and let me tell it, Ricky,” the first boy rapped him on the head.

“But I heard it isn’t true,” the other boy – Ricky – went on, completely ignoring orders. “I heard that no one lives in the church anyway.” He was about to go on when he suddenly jumped to his feet, eyes wide. The smile in them had disappeared, replaced by deep, deep fear. He opened his mouth and screamed before turning tail and fleeing the scene. The other boys whipped their heads around, wide-eyed, to see what he was staring at.

“RUN!” the first boy bellowed, dragging some of the younger ones up by the collar and shoving them along. “HURRY UP, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” The group sprinted down the street, separating into different pathways. The Precinct was almost mapped out like a labyrinth – if you didn’t know your way, you could get very, very lost.

Ricky hid behind a pile of rubble in a deserted alleyway, chest heaving and a fist stuffed into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and he could feel his heart beating in his throat, constricting his windpipe. He looked up into the sky, where the drops of rain had enlarged, hitting him in the face and intermingling with his tears. He peered out from behind his hiding place, choking on his own voice as he watched a little girl fall forward to the ground, only to be covered by a smokey, shadowy, net-like substance that disappeared, her along with it. Bile rose in his throat and he felt like throwing up. He wanted to cry out, to rush out and help her, but terror overrode him and rendered his limbs useless.

An elongated, sinister human shadow appeared around the corner where the girl had fallen and Ricky held his breath, pressing further into his pile of rubble, praying that it wasn’t his turn to go. The footsteps told him that this time, his prayers were going unanswered.

A shadow fell over him. He stiffened, his heartbeat thudding in his ears, and dared himself to look up and above his shoulder, fear written all over his face.

He stared up into a dark silhouette, the only outstanding facial feature being one glowing red eye in a hooded face. The figure wore a black mask, the bottom half studded all over with sharp metal spikes. It raised its hand, where shadows were beginning to form, and Ricky opened his mouth in a voiceless scream, squeezing his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around his head. He felt a vile, cold whisper on his face as something touched him, and he shrunk further back into himself.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a clang of metal against metal rang out, and there was a dull thud as something fell to the ground. The fog that had seemed to surround him vanished, and he gingerly opened one eye, mouth dropping open in shock as he found his assailant lying by his feet, a dagger protruding from the back of its neck. The next second, the body vanished in a vapor of black smoke. The weapon clattered to the ground.

“Well, that was an easy target, wasn’t it?” a bright, cheerful voice rang out from above, and Ricky stared in disbelief as someone dropped down from the roof of the building in front of him, landing lithely on their feet. The girl crouched down, picking up the dagger from the ground and extending her other hand out to him. “Guess you and I both got lucky, huh?” She smiled, and Ricky got a full view of the pair of rabbit ears sticking out from the top of her head. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, I -,” Ricky started, before remembering the fallen little girl. He shot up from his spot, running out on to the street, twisting around frantically. “Where is she?” he asked desperately. The girl walked out slowly, digging her hands into the pocket of her trench coat. A lollipop stick dangled from the corner of . “Where’s who?” she asked.

“That girl,” Ricky exclaimed. “She got caught before me, and….” The girl’s look hardened. “Can’t you bring her back?” he cried out. “Can’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” the girl said quietly. “I would if I could. But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“No…” Ricky fell to his knees, staring blindly at the ground, blinking back angry tears. “No….”

“I’m sorry,” the girl said again. “I have to go now.” She turned and walked away, boots making no sound on the dirt-lined ground.

“Wait!” Ricky called out, jumping to his feet and running after her. He caught on to the unfastened belt of her coat. “What’s your name?” She paused, and then turned around, a bright smile adorning her features once again.

“CL,” she winked (at least from what he could see – her right eye was covered by her fringe) and gave him a two- salute.

“Thank you, CL,” he said, looking up into her face. “If you hadn’t –.”

“It’s no problem,” she reached out and ruffled his hair, apple-scented breath hitting him in the face. “Stay safe kid.” He watched her walk a few more steps before she turned a corner and disappeared.

Just another day in the Precinct.

-

“I’m back,” CL called out, entering the living room and pulling off her jacket, tossing it on to the back of the dilapidated couch. “Hey Min, is Jepp back yet?” she yelled, flopping on to the couch herself and propping her feet up on a stool.

A small girl with a heavy fringe and long dark hair wound into a plait over her shoulder poked her head out of a door. “No,” she simply said, and closed the door. CL sighed, closing her eyes for a few seconds before jumping to her feet and heading into the bathroom to wash her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, analyzing her messy golden blond hair with the black stripes running horizontally through them, her light blue eye that wasn't covered by her fringe, and finally, the two rabbit-shaped ears protruding from her scalp.

“He’s the first one to not ask about them,” she told her reflection, and grinned broadly. Returning to the living room, she resumed her initial position and closed her eyes again, trying not to think of the little girl that she couldn’t save. There would have been others today, but she didn’t know about them. Most of the time it was better not to know. A few minutes later, she was asleep.

“Boots off the stool,” a voice boomed in her ear after what seemed like seconds, and she groaned, rubbing her eyes blearily. “Wake up, rodent.”

“Shut up Skyu,” she glared at the young man standing above her, his arms crossed. He simply raised an irritated eyebrow and shoved her legs unceremoniously off the stool. “You’re supposed to be gentle and nice with ladies, thank you very much!”

“You’re no lady so it doesn’t really matter,” he replied, stretching out on the other beaten up couch, his arms under his head. CL watched him silently. He had a reddish-brownish sort-of Mohawk, and though his eyes were closed, she knew that they were barely there when they were open.

“Sungkyu,” a quiet voice called out, and Min re-emerged from behind the door. “Jepp still isn’t back yet.” Sungkyu opened one eye (CL resisted from cracking up) and looked long and hard at her.

“He’ll be alright,” he said finally. “He can take care of himself.” Min nodded and retreated back into her room. “She’s worried,” he remarked to CL, who nodded in agreement. “Should we be worrying about her?” He settled back, staring at the ceiling.

“Pfft,” CL made a sound like a balloon deflating. “She’s developing human emotions. Why should we worry?” She put her feet back up on the stool. “So how many did you get today?”

“Fifteen,” Sungkyu replied, without any emotion. This time she couldn’t tell if his eyes really were open or not.

“I got ten,” CL’s eyes narrowed. No matter how hard she tried she could never beat Sungkyu when it came to taking out Snatchers. It wasn’t fair. “I couldn’t save this little girl,” she said out loud, without thinking. There was a long, loaded pause, and then Sungkyu swung his legs on to the ground and sat up, his head in his hands. “I saved this kid who wanted to know why I couldn’t save her, and I didn’t know what to say.” She watched him get to his feet.

“Don’t CL,” he almost growled, walking a little mechanically past her. “Just don’t.” He paused, and she raised her gaze to his face, but he turned away from her. “And get your feet off the stool,” he knocked her legs off again before leaving the area. The door behind her slammed shut, and she sighed, staring down at her feet before realizing that her lollipop was finished. She dug into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a new one, unwrapping it and popping it into before sitting back.

A few seconds later she felt much, much better.