A girl with blue, short hair had collapsed in a back alley. Her eyes stared off into nothing, her hands wrapped loosely around a faintly glowing, dark blue gem that swirled with black. The world was horrible. The world was a place of hate and regret. And she... she would destroy it.
Work had lead him there. It was always work that carried him to the most deteriorated of places. Places that held festering qualms, dripping toxic rubies. Deadly to the lonely. Deadly to the broken. Deadly to the quiet-natured. Nurtured on noise and independence. A place that had no room for Will Graham.
Addressing the smog that had latched onto the lenses of his glasses, he climbed into his car, avoiding the sweltering mood of grotesque sadism. That was when he saw the girl. Her back faced him, still, he saw the pain ingrained into it like long dark fingers. They shook her figure, made tremble that small frame of hers. He feared for her fragility.
He exited his vehicle, once again entering the chaos, to stride to where she lay crumpled. "Excuse me." His attempt at sounding authoritative sounded all too artificial to his ears. "Excuse me, miss."
