Chapter 1: Council of Gods
The alley stretched out before me, heavy with the lonely, depressed darkness that only 3 am could provide. Forlorn, yet blessedly empty.
After looking around to ensure I was alone, I dropped heavily to my knees. The cement was rough and cold, the fall leaving several scrapes on my skin, yet I didn't even wince. They were simply a few more bloody lines drawn on a canvas covered in paint.
My hair was short and tangled, matted with blood and other, more questionable body fluids. What little clothing I had left hung in tatters about my thin, bruised shoulders. Dozens of bruises speckled my flesh, ranging from fetid yellows to deep purple.
My fingers shook as I rummaged through my dress's rags, growing ever more frantic until I felt the touch of cold steel. With a sigh of relief, I withdrew the slender needle, tilting it until it caught the shattered starlight seeping through the polluted sky. A little brown blotch stained one end, proving this wasn't the first time it had been used. Figures.
How exactly was I supposed to use this? The dealer had been far more interested in extracting as much pleasure from my body than explaining what to do. I'd seen enough hollow-eyed druggies to know the basics, but this was the one thing in my short, miserable life I couldn't let go wrong.
After a moment of hesitation, I placed the point against my arm, centered within a splotchy bruise. This one was fresh, a final parting gift from the man who sold me the needle.
Perhaps sold was too strong a word; money wasn't so easy for one like myself to come by. Traded, or perhaps extorted, might have been fitting. I'd long since grown used to that kind of currency, trading whatever pleasure one might take from my body for some small morsel, a bed, and even the occasional scrap of clothing.
Still, even if it weren't the first time, it would be the last. I looked upward at the stars again and closed my eyes, praying to whatever god was listening. Please, please let it be the last.
I was just stalling. I knew that, and yet, as I opened my eyes, I found them filled with tears. Strange, I could have sworn I'd long since run dry. Life had hardly been kind, but no matter how much I struggled and tried to have hope, it had just led me to this point. Perhaps this was where I'd been destined to go all along.
The less I delayed, the better. The sooner it would be over.
With a shaky hand, I bit my lip and pushed on the needle. It sank into my flesh with a fiery prick, sending tingles racing up my arm. A wave of cold followed soon after as the drug entered my bloodstream, and I withdrew it quickly. It seemed my hands hadn't been steady enough, as the needle left a jagged puncture wound behind. I lowered my hand as a bead of blood oozed from the wound, ignoring it. What was one more pinch after everything I'd suffered?