[b]*Crash*[/b]

An obnoxious, loud noise from the back of his shop startles an old man awake. He jumps to his feet, his heart racing. [b]"What in the...?"[/b] He can't help but wonder what could have caused the commotion. He takes a moment, before looking at the clock. There are at least 30 minutes before he is open, so it shouldn't be a customer. Aside from the back of the place being employees-only, he does not unlock the front door until 5 till. He figures that if it is a person, then they must have broken in. 

He grabs the bat he keeps hidden behind the counter.

The old man, Richard, slowly makes his way to the back of his shop, his bat clutched tightly. In a moment's notice, he could swing it down upon someone, easily ridding them of their consciousness. Still, his weapon does little to reassure him that things won't turn sour. A gun would provide him with a bit more comfort. But still, he continues further in. He notices that a door seems to be standing open in the back of his shop. It is not the back door, but a door leading to a small room which connects to the basement of the shop. Of course, the basement door is open. The intruder must be inside there. 

He steels himself, taking a deep breath in before slowly descending the small flight of stairs. Each step he takes causes the wooden steps to moan, spiking his anxiety more than it already was. There was no way whomever, whatever was down there did not hear him approach. He had no element of surprise. In fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite. The lights in the basement aren't on, so the room is pitch-black. He momentarily feels around the wall with his free hand, searching for the switch to the light. When he finds it, he flicks it up, yet the lights do not come on. A vain attempt or two later, he comes to understand that the lightbulb must have died again. He could almost kill himself for forgetting. 

[b][i]I can't leave until I know there's nobody down here.[/i][/b] 

Richard was approaching his sixties. His time had come and gone, he wasn't in perfect shape like he'd once been. So the thought of having to fight some thief was not a pleasant one. But there was absolutely no way he could open shop if this place wasn't cleared out beforehand. He had a sense of pride as the owner of a small shop, he would never risk a customer's safety, so this had to be dealt with. Even in the complete darkness, he took a step forward, and that's when he suddenly noticed it: 

Two glowing red orbs stood out in the pitch black! For a moment, they remained unmoving, but eventually, they had started towards him, creeping closer by the second. He wasn't sure what this was, but he attempted to ready his bat, only to almost drop it due to his sweaty palms. He panicked, and frantically tried to regain his composure and stance so he could meet these orbs head-on. It took a moment, but he finally did so, and then he looked up just in time to see...

[center][h1][color=red]S[/color] [i]a m a n t h a[/i][/h1]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/YdB71c9.jpg[/img]

[quote=Samantha Howard][color=red]"Another dull day. Just how I like it."[/color][/quote][/center]

Samantha approached the old man from the darkness, her gaze cast upwards towards him with a curious gleam to it. [color=red]"Is something wrong, Mr. Davis?"[/color], she asked her employer. He wore a very complex expression but sighed in relief once he realized that she was no threat to him. Relaxing his grip on the bat, he gave a breathless laugh. 

[b]"I'm sorry, I heard something down here and thought you to be a crook!"[/b] he explained to her. Sam's features did not move, though she was confused by his reasoning. [b]"What are you doing down here?"[/b] he asked, only to cause the young woman more confusion. Had he forgotten yet again? His old age must be catching up to him. She look backed into the pitch black basement before looking back to him. 

[color=red]"You asked me to help you with a few boxes."[/color] she spoke. [color=red]"So I came by to do just that. You don't remember?"[/color] 

He scratched his head for a moment, presumably trying to recall the conversation before his eyes opened wide in realization. [b]"Ah, yes, that's right. I did ask you to stop by."[/b] he repeated, only to meekly add, [b]"I suppose... I did kinda forget. Memory's not what it once was, I'm afraid."[/b] Samantha merely sighed in response. [b]"But what was all that racket? Are you hurt?"[/b] he worried. 

[color=red]"I'm perfectly fine."[/color] she assured him. [color=red]"You didn't change the lightbulb so I had to use that old flashlight of yours, and then that died, so I wound up accidentally spilling a box while I stumbled around in the darkness."[/color] she lied. Her expression, however, remained as unreadable as ever. And having no reason not to trust the girl, he nodded. 

[b]"That's my bad, missie. I'll have the bulb changed and that flashlight replaced before I ask you to help down here again. That's a promise."[/b] he gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. [b]"Now, you should run along for now. Ain't no way you're gonna get much done down in the dark. And here,"[/b] he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a $10 and a $5. [b]"Here's for your trouble, consider that my apology miss. You haven't eaten yet, I take it?"[/b] 

Samantha reluctantly took the cash from the old man, silently pocketing it. [color=red]"No, I have not."[/color] she told him. He gave her a big smile, another pat on the back, and then shoo'd her up and out of the store. By this point, it had been close to thirty minutes since the noise startled the old man awake. He turned the sign on his door from "Closed" to "Open", and then gave a wave to Samantha. She gave a small bow and thanked him before taking off. 

[i][color=red]"I suppose I'll take his advice and get something to eat."[/color][/i]

Samantha shared a simple relationship with Richard Davis, the owner of a small antique clock shop. Sam did not have a house, nor did she own very much of anything, really. When it came to a normal, everyday life that did not involve her true job, Samantha was just some homeless girl who helped around an old guy's shop. It was as simple as can be. She helped him with his shop when he asked, and he provided her with a meager, yet important source of income. Most people might not be happy with such a setup, but Samantha almost couldn't ask for something better. She was, surprisingly, very thankful for the opportunity. Richard was a very kind man, too. This was not the first (and perhaps not the last) time he'd gifted her with some food money because of a mistake he'd made. She couldn't tell him that darkness was no longer of worry to her, of course. But, if she were to be completely honest, he was probably the only person who'd ever shown such kindness to her. 

In these past few weeks, she was beginning to experience things, feelings she'd never once experienced before. Though she was not certain if these were good or bad things. 

...

...

...

Samantha eventually ended up in a certain themed establishment she'd met Veronica in once before. If any place was good to eat, it was probably there. She wouldn't be ordering coffee, however. She entered the Pitstop, taking note of the small number of people that were in it. It wasn't especially crowded, but Sam preferred it that way. She ordered a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, and then began to eat. 

To the public, she was nobody special. And that's exactly how she liked it.