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The Start

  “Late at night, it’s unsafe. But unsafe for whom, the innocent, or the sinners?”

  They called it Sin Haven, and it lived up to its name. Even the angels averted their eyes from this place. To walk through its door was to be erased from heaven’s memory.

  James ‘Redneck’ ran Sin Haven like a priest runs his church. The Devil gave him that name himself, said it fit him better than his birth one. He was muscle and malice wrapped in skin, every inch of him tattooed with his sins. The cops knew his record, but they also knew better than to read it out loud.

  Police cannot touch him as The Devil of the City is his God Father.

  He hauled her out the back like garbage, but even then, she didn’t look like trash. The crimson of her hair caught the light, blood and fire tangled together. She was still dignified, even half-conscious, even ruined. The kind of woman you knew once had angels guarding her.

  The car’s dark windows swallowed the woman whole, gliding down the street like a shadow that had forgotten its owner. No one saw her face. No one heard the small sound that escaped her lips as Redneck slammed the door shut.

  The mayor’s wife, clean, devout, untouchable, was nothing more than a message now. A message from the Devil’s favorite errand boy.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  He drove through the back alleys, past the flickering lights and the drunks and the girls who used to pray. The city didn’t sleep; it just looked away.

  When he stopped, he paid the sentry to forget what he saw. The guard took the money, swallowed, and turned his back.

  Inside the car, Redneck smiled, a hungry, broken smile. “The Devil says hello,” he whispered. The night answered with silence, and then something darker moved.

  It gripped his hair from behind, yanking him back and slamming him against the nearest wall.

  “Motherfucker! Don’t you know who I am?” James roared, wiping blood from his mouth.

  The figure said nothing. It kicked him hard in the groin, sharp, precise, merciless. James folded, choking on his own breath.

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill your whole family!” he spat.

  The shadow stayed still as stone. James’s eyes darted toward the alley guard, only to see his throat slit open, eyes staring at nothing.

  Fear finally found him. Sweat slid down his temple and over his chest. This wasn’t some prince come to save the damsel, this was death, come looking for him.

  “Let me live,” he begged, voice cracking. “I’ll take you to the Devil himself, he owns this city.”

  Silence.

  “You want money? Half the city’s yours.”

  Still nothing.

  “Then the woman! She’s drugged but worth millions—”

  The shadow’s boot cut him off, a clean, deliberate strike.

  Then came the voice, cold as iron. “I said I would find you. Even if I have to burn the world down.”

  James’s eyes widened, recognition, horror, and then the Shadow’s hands closed around his throat.

  When it was over, the alley was red and silent.

  By the time the mayor’s wife woke, sirens wailed and even the paramedics turned away from what they saw.

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