The rain was relentless, a cold curtain of needles that turned the streets of Seattle into gleaming rivers. I sprinted through the maze of alleyways, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The shadows stretched and warped under the flickering streetlights, and I swore I heard footsteps behind me, echoing my own.

“Keep running, Sarah,” I whispered to myself, clutching the tattered lantern I had snatched from an old shop. Its feeble glow barely pierced the darkness, but it was better than nothing. My clothes were soaked, and the chill seeped into my bones, but stopping wasn’t an option.

Returning to this city was a mistake. The skyscrapers loomed overhead like silent sentinels, their glass facades reflecting the stormy sky. Seattle had always held a certain gloom, but tonight, it felt as if the entire city was conspiring against me. The jazz music from a distant club drifted through the air, a haunting melody that only heightened my anxiety.

I slipped into an abandoned building, the door creaking ominously as I closed it behind me. Inside, the shadows were deeper, but at least I was out of the rain. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My hands trembled as I adjusted the wick of the lantern, coaxing a bit more light. In the dim glow, my gaze fell upon a tattered T-shirt draped over a rusty chair. The fabric was worn, but the bold design of a rainbow heart stood out, the words beneath it reading “Not Here For Your Approval.” Despite everything, I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

“Whoever you were, you had the right idea,” I whispered.

The funeral earlier today had been a blur. Faces blurred by tears, whispers behind clasped hands, and the weight of unspoken accusations. My sister deserved better, and I was here to make sure she got justice. Even if it meant facing him.

“Michael Thompson,” I said his name aloud, the syllables dripping with bitterness. The man who had once been my closest ally was now my greatest enemy. Sinister, malicious, vile—he wore his hatred like a tailored suit. And yet, I needed his help.

From the corner of my eye, a movement. I spun around, knife in hand, heart pounding. A shadow detached itself from the darkness—a puppy, shivering and wet, its eyes reflecting the lantern’s light.

“You scared me, little guy,” I sighed, kneeling down. The puppy wagged its tail tentatively. “We’re both hiding from monsters tonight, aren’t we?”

I unzipped my jacket and tucked the puppy inside, its warmth a small comfort against the encroaching chill. As I stood, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a cracked mirror. Pale skin, haunted eyes, damp hair plastered to my face—I hardly recognized myself.

A sound upstairs—a floorboard creaking. My muscles tensed.

“Sarah,” a voice called out, smooth yet cold. Michael.

I gripped the knife tighter. “I know you’re there, Michael. Show yourself.”

He emerged at the top of the staircase, tall and slim, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t by choice,” I shot back. “But we have a problem, one that affects us both.”

He descended the stairs slowly. “And why should I care?”

“Because the thing that’s after me—it’ll come for you next. This isn’t about our grudges anymore.” I took a shaky breath. “I need your help.”

He stopped a few steps above me, hands clasped behind his back. “And why should I help you?”

“Because you’re not as heartless as you pretend to be. And because, deep down, you know this city needs us.”

He scoffed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, perhaps. “You always were the warrior,” he sneered. “Thinking you could save everyone.”

“And you’re still the monster who only cares about himself,” I retorted. “But this time, self-preservation means working together.”

For a moment, silence settled between us, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. The puppy stirred against my chest.

Michael’s gaze softened ever so slightly when he noticed the small lump under my jacket. “Is that a puppy?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Focus, Michael.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Suppose I believe you. What’s the plan?”

Relief washed over me, albeit cautiously. “There’s a rooftop—the one overlooking the old clock tower. Meet me there in an hour. Bring whatever you’ve got.”

He nodded slowly. “One hour.”

As he turned to leave, I called out, “And Michael… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied without looking back.

An hour later, I stood on the rooftop, the rain having mercifully stopped. The city’s lights stretched out before me, a sea of artificial stars. I sipped from a flask of whiskey—liquid courage, or so I told myself.

Michael arrived silently, appearing beside me like a wraith. “What’s so important up here?”

I pointed to the shadows gathering near the clock tower. “That’s our problem.”

From the darkness emerged creatures—pale, haunting figures with eyes that glowed like embers. They moved unnaturally, limbs jerking as if pulled by unseen strings.

“Shadow wraiths,” Michael whispered. “I thought they were a myth.”

“Apparently not,” I said grimly. “They took my sister. They’re the reason I’m back.”

He clenched his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

He was silent.

We stood side by side, former enemies united against a common foe. “Ready?” I asked, pulling out a set of sigil-marked stones from my pocket.

He smirked slightly. “As I’ll ever be.”

The battle was intense. The wraiths swarmed, their screeches piercing the night. We fought fiercely, using every trick and tool at our disposal. Michael’s spells intertwined with my own defenses, an unexpected harmony.

At one point, a wraith lunged at me, and Michael shoved me aside, taking the hit. He grimaced but stood his ground. “Don’t get sloppy,” he growled.

“Didn’t know you cared,” I replied, tossing him a brief grin.

Together, we pushed back the wraiths, forcing them toward the edge of the rooftop. With a final incantation, we banished them, their forms dissolving into the night.

Breathing hard, we stood amidst the aftermath. The city seemed quieter, almost peaceful.

“Guess we make a good team after all,” I ventured.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, but there was a hint of a smile.

As we made our way back down, we passed a mural painted on the side of a building—a vivid rainbow heart with the words “Not Here For Your Approval” beneath it. A group of people nearby wore matching T-shirts bearing the same design, their laughter and camaraderie a stark contrast to the night’s darkness.

I nodded toward them. “Maybe there’s hope for this city yet.”

Michael glanced over, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Maybe.”

We parted ways at the street corner. “Take care of yourself, Sarah.”

“You too, Michael.”

I watched as he disappeared into the crowd. The puppy stirred again, and I stroked its head gently. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.”

The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the skyscrapers in hues of gold. For the first time in a long while, I felt a semblance of peace.

Perhaps returning to Seattle hadn’t been such a mistake after all.

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