Another dark night in the city, the grey sky strewn across it like a transparent shroud, the wind was calm but loud echoing through it but stirring nothing from it's place. The shrill cry of the siren filled the alleyways around it as two men lifted a stretcher into the back of the van and secured it in place. One of them climbed into the back and closed the doors, the other moved back around to the front. The red and blue lights danced along the brick walls as the vehicle pulled out of the alleyway. As the light moving lights crept along the walls for a moment a level of fire-escape was illuminated in the red light and a figure in black stood with his hands on the railing, a white stick with a crimson tip stuck in his lips.
The ambulance's cries fill the city streets as it tears it's way toward the general hospital. Back on the fire escape a ground up cigarette butt rests on the rail. The driver's eyes are glued to the road as he inclines his head and shouts to his partner.
"How's he doing?"
"Not good, he's lost a lot of blood, I've barely got a pulse."
"*poop*."
"Yeah, I'm watching the clock."
The driver lets out a sort of grunt and shifts his hands on the wheel, the sweat's built up on it, last run of the evening and he was hoping it wouldn't end on a sour note. Can't win them all he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes for what seems a second and opens in time to swerve to avoid a near head on collision with a car that hadn't moved far enough to the side.
In the back of the ambulance his partner leans over the man on the stretcher, speaking in a hushed tone.
"Don't worry, I'm getting you a second chance." His attention seems to drift as he places a hand on the man's shoulder.
"We all deserve a second chance in this place." He reaches down to a small pouch beneath the bench he sits on, unzipping it, his hands slowly remove the cap on hypodermic needle with a strange sort of silver liquid within it.
===
The ambulance screeches to a halt, and the wail of the siren falls to a whispered echo, the driver bolts out of the front seat and rips open the Back doors for his gaze to be met by a look of disappointment from his partner.
"*poop*."
"I'm calling it. Time of death 3:15." He sighs as he picks himself up off the bench and helps the driver lift the stretcher out of the ambulance and begin to cover its load with the bag. After the bodies been dropped off the two of them are sitting on the cement edge of the floral arrangement outside of the hospital. One of their hands still stained with dry blood as he lights a smoke. The driver pats him on the back and gets to his feet - he shrugs and begins to walk away, he tosses a sideways glance and the words "Just another day in mega city Al." To his partner and continues to walk on.
Al lets out a sigh and stares down at his blood stained hands, shaking his head he gets to his feet and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes falling on the swoop sneakers worn beneath the misene pinstriped pants. Sneakers and dress pants, he should figure it out but doesn't. His eyes move up across the suit enclosed by a leather trench and finally rest on the bizarre green armless shades that tightly hug the nose of the man before him. The spiked hair helps him put it together.
"Crap." He says as the cigarette falls from his lips.
"Got a light Al?" Darminian asks him.



