Flickers of Solaris: Volume I

A Flicker in the Shadows

The city of Solaris never truly slept. Even at midnight, the streets pulsed with a life of their own, a blend of neon lights and whispers, where reality blurred with the strange and the unseen. From the cracked windows of abandoned high-rises to the sleek, modern towers that pierced the skyline, Solaris was a living organism, and its inhabitants were the veins through which its secrets flowed.

Eliot knew these streets better than most. His taxi hummed softly as it coasted down Boulevard Five, one of the few main arteries of the city that cut through the underbelly of Solaris. He had been driving for hours, the night blending into the early hours of the morning, and his eyelids were starting to feel heavy. His passengers tonight had been a peculiar mix: a businessman with a thousand-yard stare, a woman clutching a briefcase like it held her soul, and two gang members who spoke in hushed, coded tones. But that was typical for Solaris. Everyone had something to hide.

The rain began to fall, pattering against the windshield in a steady rhythm. Eliot leaned forward slightly, peering out at the distorted glow of streetlights reflected on the wet pavement. He hated driving in the rain; it made the city feel colder, more distant. Like a predator watching from the shadows.

His dashboard pinged, a new request flashing across the screen. Picking up his phone, he saw the destination: Perdido District, a part of Solaris where even the most hardened residents feared to tread after dark. Eliot hesitated. He had promised himself he wouldn't go back there, not after the last time. But then he thought about the bills piling up, the rent on his crumbling apartment due in a week. With a sigh, he accepted the fare.

The streets grew narrower and darker as he approached Perdido. Graffiti stained the brick walls of derelict buildings, and the once-bustling district was now a ghost town, home to squatters, drifters, and things better left unnamed. The glow of his headlights caught movement in the alleyways, but Eliot kept his focus on the road. This was not the place to get curious.

The address led him to a small, forgotten bar tucked between two abandoned warehouses. The sign above the door flickered intermittently, the word "Sanctum" barely readable. He pulled up to the curb, glancing at the rearview mirror. There was no sign of his passenger.

Eliot waited, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Minutes passed, but no one emerged from the shadows. He was about to cancel the ride when a soft knock echoed from the passenger-side window.

The figure outside was a woman, tall, with her features obscured by the hood of a long, black coat. She opened the door and slid into the back seat, the scent of damp rain and something else — something metallic — following her.

"Drive," she said. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like someone used to giving orders.

Eliot frowned. "Where to?"

There was a pause, and for a brief moment, he caught her eyes in the rearview mirror — sharp, calculating, and filled with a kind of awareness that sent a chill down his spine.

"Just drive."

Eliot didn't argue. He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. The woman sat in silence, her gaze locked on the world outside the window as the city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows. The tension in the air was thick, as if Solaris itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

After a few blocks, Eliot tried again. "Look, lady, I need a destination. You can't just—"

"Turn left up ahead," she interrupted.

He glanced at her again, then followed her instructions. The streets grew quieter, more isolated, the lights from the city fading as they moved deeper into the outskirts. Eliot's unease grew. He had driven all over Solaris, but there were places even he didn't venture into lightly.

Finally, they reached a dead end. A narrow alley with a single flickering streetlamp, casting long, distorted shadows on the cracked asphalt. Eliot turned to ask her what she wanted, but she was already out of the car, standing in the middle of the alley, her coat billowing slightly in the wind.

She stood there for a moment, then turned her head slightly toward him. "You shouldn't stay here."

Eliot's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "What the hell is going on?"

But she didn't answer. Instead, she walked toward the far end of the alley, her silhouette fading into the darkness. Eliot's instincts screamed at him to leave, but something held him there, something about the way she had looked at him. Like she had seen something in him, something she wasn't supposed to.

And then he saw it.

A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the alley, a man dressed in dark clothes, his face obscured by the brim of a hat. He moved silently, like a ghost, and stopped a few feet from the woman. They stood there, facing each other, neither speaking. The tension was palpable, like a storm about to break.

Eliot's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he should drive away. He knew he should forget about this fare and never come back. But he couldn't move. Something about the scene unfolding before him was drawing him in, pulling him deeper into a world he didn't understand.

Suddenly, the woman moved, too fast for Eliot's eyes to follow. In an instant, she was behind the man, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. There was a flash of something silver — a knife? — and then the man crumpled to the ground.

Eliot gasped, his blood running cold. He slammed the car into reverse, his tires screeching as he backed out of the alley. His heart raced as he sped through the empty streets, the image of the man collapsing burned into his mind.

What the hell had he just witnessed?

As he drove away, Eliot's mind raced with questions, but one thought stood out above the rest: who the hell was that woman?

And why did she choose him?