A/N: Ok, this is something I just started working on. It's been stuck in my head for the past week and I've been writing like mad. If you are a fan of my other stories, I'm still working on them, don't worry.

Please review, reviews are like Zydrate to me. ;)


Warnings: Language, drug use, sensual situations, things you'd expect from a story about Graverobber.

Disclaimer: I don't own Repo! The Genetic Opera or (unfortunately) Graverobber or any of the other characters, although any OC's are my own.

The lights in the dirty alley blinked lazily. A tall figure leaned against the wall, just watching. The evening rush would be coming soon. He deserved some sort of break.

Graverobber was tired. He was tired of this livelihood. He was tired of the scalpel sluts. He was tired of the grimy streets. But it was something he was used to. He'd known these streets almost all his life.

"Graverobber," growled a voice beside him. He turned to see a short mess of bright pink hair. The short girl standing beside him was staring across the alleyway at the wall opposite them. She holds out her hand, palm up. "I want a hit."

"People in hell want ice water."

"I'm being serious, Graverobber."

"So am I," he replied, examining his fingernails. "You still haven't paid me from last time Eva."

"Please," she moaned. Her tough facade was gone. She was dying for a hit of Z. "I'll pay."

"How much you got?" he sighed. He tried not to do this, tried not to feel sorry for them. But sometimes, they were like this. Needy. Then he couldn't help that pity he felt for them.


"I'll take that for last time," Graverobber said. This time he was the one who held out his hand, palm up.

"And this time?" she asked softly.

Graverobber continued to study his black painted fingernails. "When was the last time you slept?"

Eva hesitated. "Last night," she finally answered.

"You're lying."

"No I'm not," she replied quickly.

"And you're lying again."

"Alright, it was four nights ago."

"Look, Eva. Go home. Get some sleep. Get so damn money. Then we'll talk about a hit."

She turned and glared at him. "Fuck you."

"No thanks," he replied. "That would definitely cost extra."

"You think you're the only Z pusher on the streets?" she snapped.

"I'm the cheapest," he replied easily. "And no matter what, you still owe me."

The tiny pink haired woman reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, then tossed them at the Graverobber.

"You're going to lose a lot of customers running a business in that way," she muttered angrily. "You're definitely losing me."

She stalked away, the four inch heels on her knee high boots clicking rapidly.

"See you tomorrow," muttered the Graverobber, watching her retreating form.

A tiny form sat in a little nook behind a dumpster, black hair falling across her eyes. Shilo watched the forms of scalpel sluts crawl up the alleyway. Maybe tonight would be the night after all.

Fifth night on the streets. She was starting to think that maybe this wasn't worth it. She was starting to think she'd like to go home and take a hot shower. However, she knew that wasn't an option. When she had arrived back at her house, there had been a group of guards outside her gates.

So, she had taken to wandering the streets, trying to find a man who she barely knew, who might or might not be able to help her.

"Hey," snapped a raw voice. Shilo looked up in surprise.

"You're in my spot, whore," said a tall, tan girl.

Shilo stood quickly. "I-I'm sorry."

"You should be," she snapped, pushing Shilo out from behind the dumpster, then placing herself in the spot.

Shilo observed the girl before her. The girl's head lolled slightly, and she had a small smirk on her perfect lips.

"Are… are you high?" asked Shilo, trying not to feel bad for the prying question.

"What's it to you?" snapped the girl. "You a cop?"

"No," replied Shilo. "I'm… well I'm looking for Graverobber."

The girl looked Shilo up and down. "Huh," she said. "You don't really look like the type to need street Z." She focused her eyes on Shilo's necklace, then said. "I haven't seen him."


"I mean, I might have," she said, smirking again. "But I can't quite remember."

Shilo sighed, and turned away. "God, are you an idiot?" snapped the girl. Shilo turned back to her. "Got any cash?"


"Hand over the money, and I hand over the information,"

Shilo quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. The girl raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"That'll pay for less than half a hit of Zydrate. Come on." She snapped her fingers impatiently.

Shilo sighed impatiently, then forked out a ten. The girl snatched the bills from Shilo, examined them quickly, then said, "The grave robbers regular alley is five blocks from here. If he's not there, he travels west one alley at a time, looking for more customers."

Shilo smiled quickly. "Thanks."

"Thank you," replied the girl, stuffing the bills down her bra.

The girl walked away. Shilo turned the other direction, hoping to see a familiar face.