It was a warm, quiet night in Venice. The nearly-full moon was almost completely hidden by thick clouds that spilled across the sky. On a street corner, a single bulb attached to the brick wall of a small, dirty building flickered, buzzed, and then died out.
A thin, tall figure slipped silently through the shadows. If there was a light on near by, one could see that he was about eighteen years old, with a mess of dark hair and a long, black trenchcoat. He was wearing a very strange mask, shaped like a bird's beak, from which dark eyes peered out at the world. There was a light brown sack slung over his back, obviously filled with some sort of treasures, and which was being effortlessly balanced.
Scipio walked along the building, still hiding in the dark, and turned the sidewalk corner to find himself walking along an alleyway infested with roaches and other insects. A few leaves crunched under his feet as he made his way down the alley, but then, quite abruptly, he stopped.
There was a person lying at the end of the alley and he couldn't tell whether they were breathing or not. Coming closer, he saw that it was a girl who was no younger than himself. Her pale skin was scraped, bruised, and bleeding, from her arms down to her legs. She was wearing a pale green T-Shirt and jeans, but the jeans were ripped at the knee, which also had blood coming out of it. Her long, brown hair was spread over her face. Scipio reached out a gloved hand and pulled it away, revealing her closed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Obviously, she was unconscious.
For once, Scipio did not know what to do. He looked at her for a moment before an idea came to him. His eyes quickly glanced around the alley before he straightened his back up and walked over to a moss-covered corner. He took the bag on his back off and folded it as many times as he could, then hid it behind an enormous potted plant that was a mere few feet away. Then he went back to the girl and, quickly but gently, scooped her into his arms. She was incredibly light -- too light, he decided.
Scipio hurried through the alleyway and down the sidewalk as fast and quietly as he could. Finally, he turned into yet another alleyway, though this one had a chipped door with faded letters at the end and a small window over which a thick curtain was pulled tightly over. He went to this door and knocked on it, having to rearrange the girl in his arms slightly as he did so.
Another girl of about fifteen years of age slowly pulled back the curtain and shut it again, opening the door a second later. She was in a red nightshirt and blue sweatpants, with dark hair falling to her waist in a perfect braid. "Scipio---!" she exploded, but then stopped at the sight of the girl he was carrying.
"I found her nearby, Hornet," said Scipio. "She seems to have lost consciousness and I thought that I should bring her here"
"Well, come in already, for Christ's sake," said Hornet sourly, stepping aside to let him inside. Once Scipio had walked in she closed the door behind him and scowled at the back of his head, following him into the old cinema.
The Stella was once a crowded and popular theatre, but was now seemingly abandoned. Seemingly. Nobody knew, besides its inhabitats, that the Stella was not empty at all, and kept in very good shape.
"So she can stay in the spare bed, I guess," said Hornet as she lead Scipio up to the sleeping rooms. She pointed to the empty bed next to her own and Scipio lay the girl down on it.
"Now," she said, suddenly businesslike, "I have some medicine that should be able to clean those cuts out and make the swelling go down." As she ran to the next room to get it, Scipio straightened his mask and looked at a clock on the wall. The glass that used to cover it was broken, but the clock still worked and now said 11:47.
Hornet came back in holding a small jar of white paste-like ointment and a wet rag. She went over to the girl and started wiping off the blood with her rag, at the same time asking Scipio, "What happened to her, anyway"
"I don't know. I just found her in an alleyway. She might have gotten pushed off of the stairs or something"
"Hmm. Maybe," said Hornet absentmindedly, now dabbing at a bruise with the ointment. "Well, she should wake up in a few hours. When she does, I guess we'll get her back home"
Scipio nodded and made his way down the stairs once more. Then he reached the door and opened it to step once more into the silent, dark night.
Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter isn't good at all. I was feeling sick and tired when I wrote it, so hopefully you'll understand. )
Enjoy and please leave a comment if you like it! Constructive criticism is welcomed!