As dusk settled in across the city, a figure looked out over the rooftops of Saulbine from the height of the King Clock's tower, watching as the panoramic city view switched from pumpkin orange and gilded metal to noble purple and finally to the infinite blacks, blues and greys of night as if repeatedly swept over by the hand of an invisible painter. The figure often came up here to look at the city, the sight of it reminding him of why the task he undertook each night was so important. But now the night winds were tugging at the long hooded cloak he wore, reminding him that it was time to go. So, he stepped out of the tower's interior and fell. It was a perfectly controlled fall and stopped short when he landed on one of the immense clock hands, rolled to absorb the impact and then leaped off in one motion, being fortunately light and small enough to impact without damaging the clock. His leap carried him clear of the building-less space directly around the clock and he hit the rooftop of the nearest building with barely any sound as he tucked and rolled to take the impact then ran on fluidly, leaping gaps between buildings with ease before sliding down a drainpipe and into an alleyway. Oddly, chose to all of this while internally narrating his own actions. [i]I slipped into the alleyway quietly, just another shadow. Some people are afraid of the darkness that clings to things in alleys, but I know better. The true darkness is out there somewhere, hungry, and otherworldly. But I do not fear that either, for I am the hammer that will nail shut the breach between worlds. As I move out of the alleyway, the city's truths open up to me. The night is too still and the people that would normally bustle around hide in their homes. The air carries the scent of fear with it, stinging and stale like-[/i] "Ewww gross that's pee! Aaah ick-icky-ick gross why would there be pee here!?" 12-year-old Horatio Jeremiah Bouken- middle-schooler, aspiring novelist and Doll Hunter-flailed desperately to stop his cloak from getting wet.