1~The First Night

Elara hated the night shift..

She hadn't even been in Chicago for more than two weeks, and already her new coworkers had made sure she got the worsts shifts. The other nurses laughed about it behind her back, sometimes right in front of her.

The city pulsed with restless energy. Neon lights flickered against damp sidewalks, car horns echoed through narrow streets, and for Dr. Elara, it was just another exhausting night on call. She leaned against the cool wall of the clinic she now called home, tucking stray strands of hair under her messy bun. Moving here had supposed to be a fresh start. A chance to disappear into routine, treat patients and leave comfortably but here she was, alone in the flickering lights of the clinic and the only guard half dozing at the entrance, Elara swallowed her anger. It wasn't worth it.

Checking her watch. Nearly 3AM. Dead quiet. The kind of quiet pressed on her ears and made her wish she had gone back to her tiny rented apartment instead.

Then came the knock

Loud. Urgent. The kind of knock that made her blood run cold. The guard stirred, but before he could react, the door burst open. Two men shoved inside. The smell of blood hit her instantly. The injured one's shirt was drenched in blood, his sharp suit ruined. his eyes wild but alert.

Elara froze. Her training told her to move, but her gut screamed to run. The man now placed on the bed was bleeding heavily, his shirt soaked through, but his eyes dark, sharp, terrifyingly alive, locked on hers. She cut through the fabric, revealing a deep wound across his side. A knife wound. Clean but dangerous. His gaze locked onto hers, cold and sharp despite the pain.

For a moment, she froze-there was something unnervingly powerful in those eyes, as though the city itself bowed to him.

"Stay still," she commanded, forcing her hands not to shake. "You'll bleed out if I don't close this." The man chuckled through gritted teeth. "This isn't a first."

The room thickened with silence, broken only by the sound of her instruments and his uneven breathing. She didn't ask questions-how he got injured, why was he armed, or why his bodyguard or whoever that is kept darting nervous glances at the door. She simply stitched, her focus unyielding.

"Scalpel. Thread. Gauze." she muttered the words like a prayer as she grabbed supplies. No one moved to help. The two men who'd carried him in just stood there, stone-faced, as if daring her to make the wrong move.

The wounded man never looked away. His dark gaze followed her every movements, steady even as his blood soaked the sheets. Who is he? she thought, forcing her hands to stop shaking as she stitched the torn flesh.

Minutes dragged. Sweat slid down her neck. When she tied the final knot and taped the bandage, relief almost buckled her knees. "You're done." she whispers, stepping back.

He sat up slowly, exuding an aura of control. this man didn't look hurt or even winced in pain. He reached for the pistol on the tray beside him, moving with the kind of calm that came from experience.

Elara's breath hitched. "You shouldn't-"

The door creaked.

Before she could finish, a figure appeared in the doorway. Another man. Armed. Watching.

In a blink, he raised the gun and fired. The sound split the clinic. The guard outside yelled. Blood sprayed the doorway. The man crumpled to the floor, dead before his body hit the tiles.

Elara froze. Her mind blanked, her head, whispering to herself "This can be real"

More footsteps thundered outside. Men rushed in, guns down.

He didn't flinch. He holstered his pistol and leaned casual against the bedframe, like this was nothing more than another Tuesday night-morning.

Elara found her voice, sharp with panic.

"You cant leave him here. Do you hear me? I am so not starting my life with a corpse on my floor!" She stood up from the floor, this wasn't her first time seeing a dead body, that alone gave her enough strength to et back on her feet.

The men hesitated, glancing and the man on the bed,

And for the first time that night, his lips curved into something dangerous. A smirk. "You heard the doctor. Take him"

Two men dragged the body out. The tiles smeared with red as they went.

Elara's stomach twisted, bile rising, Her chest heaved, heart racing so fast she thought it might burst. She couldn't believe this.

 And in the silence that followed, He looked at her with eyes that burned, before he left the room.

Elara crumbled back to the ground......

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