seeing ghosts

Who: Dodge
Where: The streets
When:: Just after dawn

He woke with dawn. Maddy wasn't awake yet, and he took it as a chance to sneak out from the bed, hesitating only briefly before leaving her tower room.

At first glance he was a mess. His face was bruised across one whole side, his clothes were dirty and rumpled in from being slept in for two days, and given the dull pain in his ribs he lacked the normal litheness of his gait. Besides the fedora perched on his head, he looked far more like just any old street kid rather than the Prince of Thieves.

He cut left through an alley, still dark as the sun hadn't come up over the tops of the building yet. "Dodge." The light whisper was barely more than a breath, but it sent him spinning, hands at the ready, although there was nothing behind him, just the dim alley walls, trashcans and other junk that people had thrown out. Shaking his head he moved forward a few more steps.

"Dodge," the voice called louder, drawing his name out almost giving it a ghostly feel. Dodge swung around again, looking for the source, but seeing nothing. Moving backwards he tripped over a discarded box, scaring an alley cat that was sleeping in it. The cat screeched and ran off, causing Dodge to fumble enough that he fell back over the box, landing hard on the ground.

A laugh drifted from behind a stack of boxes and trash cans. It was a bitter noise, and an all too familiar noise. Dodge scrambled back from the noise, looking behind him and around, the realization sinking in that for once he was on his own, his boys nowhere in sight.

The laugh came with a body that stepped out from around the trash, it's face was contorted, eyes bloodshot and skin pale with a blue tinge. Around its neck, bright red and dark blue bruising stood out as a stark contrast against the pallid skin. Dodge stared in horror, still on the ground, but no longer able to scramble, just frozen in fear.

"Dodgy, Dodge, how's my boy?"

"Go away Patrick," Dodge said squinting his eyes shut against the ghost.

"Dodge? Why the sad face? Did you miss your old man?" The voice echoed in his head even though he couldn't see the ghost in front of him.

"Go away!" Dodge yelled at nothing.

"Come on Dodge, it was you and me, it always was. Then you went and betrayed me."

"You used me! You evil son of a bitch, I trusted you. You used me to get to them." Dodge buried his head in his arms, voice breaking slightly as he yelled.

The voice chuckled again, that evil dripping laugh. "You've got my blood on your hands Dodge. And no matter how many of your little games you play, how often you run off to one of your girls, you can't escape that. It'll just get worse too. Eventually your hands will be stained with those boys' blood as well."

It was quite some time before the voice faded, and the laughter drifted off into nothing. Throughout it Dodge stayed huddle low hands over his ears and eyes shut, breathing heavily while he waited for it subside. Once it was gone he took off, dashing for the morning light and taking the long way home, staying within the streets lit by either dawn or street lamps.