Black Rain

The sky bled shadows over a city that had long since forgotten how to sleep.

A place where silence meant fear. And fear ruled everything.

Streetlights flickered like dying embers. Rusted wires. Crooked poles. Their glow barely touched the cracked pavements below.

Everything looked like it was crumbling. Maybe it was.

In the middle of it all, a boy stood under the black rain.

Soaked hoodie. Head low. Fists clenched like they were holding back a storm.

No umbrella. No home. No name.

Just him.

The locals called him Stray.

Some whispered he was cursed. Others swore he was just a ghost in a hood.

But he wasn't a ghost.

He was just... angry.

Not loud, reckless anger. The opposite.

The quiet kind.

The kind that builds in your chest until it eats eyerything else. The kind that turns boys into weapons.

Tonight, that anger had a pulse.

And it was growing louder.

Sirens screamed in the distance.

Red and blue lights painted the city in chaos again.

Another body on the ground. Another name that wouldn't make the papers.

Stray didn't flinch.

This was routine. Death didn't surprise anyone here. It just… happened.

But something in the air felt different tonight.

He didn't know what.

Just that his bones felt colder.

Then it happened.

A scream.

Sharp. Real.

It echoed from the east side—near the factory ruins.

Then another.

Closer. Shorter.

And a third.

Cut off like someone ripped the sound out of her throat.

Stray moved.

Not because he cared.

But because that silence afterward wasn't normal.

It wasn't fear. It wasn't pain.

It was hunger.

The city blurred around him as he ran.

Every shortcut. Every alley. Every shadow.

He knew them all.

He didn't run like someone trying to be a hero.

He ran like someone who didn't know what he was anymore.

At the edge of the ruins, he found them.

Seven men. All dressed in black. All armed.

And at the center—

A girl.

She was tied to a rusted chair. Bloodied. Barely breathing.

Her school uniform was shredded, soaked in rain and blood.

One eye swollen shut. Lip cracked. Cheek bruised like she'd been stomped.

Her head lolled forward, but her eyes—those eyes—

Still fighting.

Barely.

Stray stepped out of the shadows.

No sound. No words.

Just presence.

The kind that makes trained men freeze without knowing why.

One thug turned.

"The f*** are you?"

Stray said nothing.

Just kept walking.

Another scoffed. "You lost, kid? This ain't your—"

He never finished.

Stray moved like a whisper through smoke.

His fist cracked the thug's jaw with bone-snapping precision. No warning. No wasted motion.

The man dropped.

Panic.

"Kill him!"

Three charged.

Mistake.

Stray dodged the first swing by inches.

Grabbed the guy's arm mid-punch.

Snap.

The scream that followed was ugly.

He yanked the man forward and slammed him into the next attacker.

Bodies hit concrete like trash bags tossed off a rooftop .

The third hesitated.

Knife drawn. Shaking.

He lunged—

Sloppy. Rushed.

Stray caught his wrist.

Locked eyes.

Then crushed his face into a steel pipe.

Once.

Twice.

Third time—the guy didn't get up.

Two more tried to flank him.

One swung a crowbar.

Stray ducked, slammed his elbow into the thug's ribs, then spun and stomped on his knee—backwards.

The crunch echoed.

The guy collapsed, howling.

The other grabbed him from behind.

Wrong move.

Stray drove his head backward—breaking the man's nose—then flipped him over his shoulder and stomped on his chest.

Once. Twice. Until he stopped moving.

Only one was left now.

He ran.

Stray didn't chase.

He picked up the dropped knife, spun it once, then threw.

The blade buried itself in the runner's thigh.

He dropped. Screaming.

Stray walked past him like he didn't exist.

The girl was still breathing. Barely.

Blood dripped from her lip, mixing with rain.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Help... me..."

He hesitated.

Not because he didn't want to.

But because he didn't remember how.

Still… he untied her.

Lifted her in his arms.

And walked away.

The rain fell harder.

The city didn't notice.

Didn't care.

But maybe—just maybe—she still could.

And as he disappeared into the dark, her heartbeat thudding weak against his chest…

He realized something.

This city wasn't going to change.

So he would.

No more running.

No more hiding.

It was time to start tearing it apart.

End of Chapter 1