Adam doesn’t move. He offers no sign of recognition.

The air picks up, brushing against the back of my neck. This is wrong. Everything about it. This guy isn’t Lip Spikes or Spider Tattoo, but he’s one of them. I’m sure of it.

I snatch Adam’s arm, to drag him past the alley, make a run for it.

Someone grabs me from behind and picks me up. A greasy hand reeking of nicotine covers my mouth.

A third guy dressed in heavy black clothes shoves Adam into the alleyway.

Adam braces himself as he sprawls onto broken brick pavers.

I’m carried deep into the darkness. Past trash bins. Around a bend. I thrash against my attacker, knocking my hat off my head. But his grip is tight.

I hear a shove or a hit, I can’t tell. Adam grunts behind me. I’m whipped around, hair smacking my face. The alley spins as I try to make sense of it.

Adam struggles to stand. He regains balance only to be pushed toward me. His head snaps back as his body heaves.

I scream, but the noise is muffled under the greasy hand smothering half my face. I buck and kick, desperate to get away, to help Adam as they close in on him.

The guy chuckles in my ear. “I like a girl with fight in her.” The words ooze out of his mouth, filling me with a horrific sense of dread.

One attacker winds his arm back, punches Adam in the gut, lifting him off the ground. Adam collapses. He wraps his arms around his knees as the other guy kicks him in the side. Once. Twice. Adam groans and grunts. I imagine his internal organs bursting.

Panic explodes in my chest. I scream and writhe, clawing at the wrist smothering my mouth.

Adam crawls to his hands and knees. His back is curled as he tries to stand. One of them kicks Adam in the face. It pops, like bones shattering. Blood pours from his mouth.

I thrash harder against the arms gripping me and shriek into the palm pinching my face. My lungs pump beyond their limits as I gasp for breath.

“No, no. It’s not your turn yet.” He presses his cheek to mine and slides his oily skin against me as he turns his head. His nose. His chin.

Adam slumps on the ground. Another kick lands on his chest. Bile climbs up my throat. He’s dying. And I’m helpless to do anything except watch it happen.

Something metal scrapes my jaw. It’s pointed, like a pen or a nail. And then a second one. Two spikes drag upward to my ear, and everything inside of me liquefies.

Lip Spikes.