The Silver Killer

Three: First Encounter

You'd dropped down silently from the rooftop when you saw the boy rush into the alleyway. He'd come directly from the place you most dreaded, so he had to either be someone of importance, of know something of importance.

You'd take either. You weren't particular.

Even though you'd dropped to the ground fairly silently, the boy spun around to look at you. You'd drawn the hood over your head, and were still wearing the signature mask. Wind swirled around your feet, ruffling the folds of your cloak and revealing your scythe, clutched in your hand under the cloak.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, and you noticed he was out of breath.

You cocked your head and took a step closer. You were an assassin, a killer that had gone years without being discovered. You had confidence, swagger, and a tendency to lean towards doing the dangerous things in life. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first." A weak comeback. He was reaching here. If you played your cards right, you'd continue to have the upperhand.

"I was curious. A random boy just shows up in an alleyway at two in the morning in a spiffy yet tattered uniform ... bound to arouse suspicion." You gazed at him with wide, innocent eyes, toying with him to see how he'd react.

"You didn't answer my question," he retorted, his eyes roaming over your cloaked figure. You could tell that he was searching for weapons that you had on you, perhaps weapons that he could take and use against you. "Who are you?"

"I didn't forget the question," you snapped, taking a step closer. You were studying him more closely than before, his tone and the dominant way he held himself intriguing you. That and the fact that he'd just escaped from a place you knew very well. "I just don't want to answer it."

You noted the sweat beading at his hairline, the tears in his clothes, the bloodstains on his chest, and his arms ... and his shorts ... and socks ... Jesus Christ this kid was covered in a lot of blood.

"You're awfully-" you started, but were met with shouts and tires squealing.

"THERE!"

Your head jerked up as the kid spun around, following your gaze to where a pair of cops were running towards you. One of them was shouting over her shoulder, a flashlight in her hand. But your eyes immediately went the gun strapped to her hip, and your blood ran cold.

"Shit," you mumbled, and spun around, racing back towards the wall you'd dropped down from. Scaling it was a little harder, but you were the Silver Killer, you could do anything.

Except get caught by the police.

"Hey!" the kid called to you, but you weren't listening. I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here-

Your scythe clanked against the wall as you rolled over the edge, landing on the roof before staggering to your feet and taking off. The hood flew off your head, but you didn't care. You couldn't tear your thoughts away from the police and, to a certain extent, that boy.

What was he doing in the alley?

And who was he?