Cortana had just left the school when she had seen the stranger. The word stranger was indeed an excellent way to describe this person, for he was very strange indeed. Cloaked in a dark hood that covered his face he moved gracefully through the hordes of people however, no one seemed to take notice of him. Cortana was used to seeing a weirdo now and then and simply assumed he or she was some bizarre Harry Potter fanatic or cosplayer. She was only a few yards behind the stranger when she saw a flash of metal fall from the mysterious figure. The shining object caught the sun's light like fish scales and, for a moment, blinded her. As soon as she could see again Cortana darted forward and scooped up the key that had already been stepped on quite a few times. She quickly examined the key for dents or scrapes, frowning at the mud streaks from the melted snow that smeared the surface. Cortana quickly rubbed the dirt on her jacket and began to follow the silhouette.

                The silver key was clutched in her hand, the cool metal clinking softly against her own ring. Beneath her fingers she could feel little carvings in the heavy elegant object. Tiny vines, no bigger than a bit of string, encircled the key, so delicately cut they looked almost real.

                Cortana was fully aware that it was a bad idea to follow random people around the streets of New York. She had, of course, been taught not to talk to strangers along with the other safety rules of the street, but it didn't feel right to keep the key or just leave it on the ground. What if this was the persons house key? Thankful that she was tall, Cortana balanced on her tip toes and tried to look over the heads of the populace. Luckily it wasn't hard to find the person with the midnight black hood. The crowds seemed to part to make way for him (possibly they were repelled by his weirdness). After bursting through a group of giggling girls that were stumbling along in preposterously tall heels, she caught a glimpse of the stranger's cloak. A prickle of unease raced down Cortana's spine as she realized the stranger had taken a turn into the not-so-nice parts of New York.

                Cortana stood in the entrance of a dark alley, the shadows brushing the tips of her shoes. The dark cast of the alley made the snow inside look like tar. Instinctively she un-audaciously flinched away from the chilly opening. She felt that if she moved her feet any farther into the murky tunnel the shadows would twist into hands and grab at her feet, pulling her to her doom.  The alley looked like a gaping mouth with broken teeth ready to chomp down on her the second she stepped into the gloomy shade. She could make out the hooded person at the far end searching the pockets of his cloak for the key that wasn't there. She could hear the harsh string of curses as he found the object to be missing.

Swallowing her fear Cortana tried to speak and catch the stranger's attention, but all that came out of her mouth was a dry puff of cold air. Pushing down her annoyance she tried again and successfully squeaked out a few words. "Excuse me," she said, her voice cracking as the stranger froze. "You dropped your key." Struggling to keep her voice from trailing off Cortana held the out the ornate object. The cryptic figure hadn't moved except to turn his head toward her. The shadows from the alley way veiled his face and wreathed around his already dark cloak. Cortana couldn't help but think he looked a bit like a Grim Reaper, and the notion that he could take her life by simply lifting a hand sent a shiver down her back, as if the Lord of Death was already trailing his fingers along her spine. Focus. She scolded herself. Cortana often let her imagination run wild when she was afraid. She reminded herself that the true danger was directly in front of her and brought her attention back to the phantom-like stranger. He still had done nothing more than watch her with what seemed to be a cerebral interest like someone looking at a spider kill and devour an insect.

Unable to stand the tension, Cortana took a step back, grateful for the warmth on her back, although she knew the glow of day was nearly gone. The sun was descending behind the buildings so only the top of it was visible, sending out honey-colored rays of light that quickly faded, sinking below the horizon like a weighted amber stone. "I'm just gonna go now." She spluttered nervously. "I must have had the wrong person." She said, although she was sure she hadn't.  She turned toward the street, never keeping her eyes off the dark alley, and set off at a frenetic walk that bordered on running.

Glad to be out of her creepy situation, Cortana began to worry about what her mother would say when she got home so late. Cortana's mother, Lucy had always been protective over her and her twin brother, James, especially after Lucy's husband died on a business trip. Cortana still remembered the day he had left. How could she forget? Cortana had only been seven but the memory had been branded into her brain with a burning iron of her mother's tears and the last time she had heard her father's voice. It had been late and she could hear the frantic whispers of her mother warning her father it wasn't safe for him to leave and that he had a responsibility. The responsibility to stay with them and protect his wife and children. Her father had murmured soft words to her mother but they had done no good. Her father had left that night and when Cortana went down stairs the next morning her mother was still sitting at the kitchen table her head in her hands, tears pooling on the polished wood, shining like a promise. Indeed, maybe it was a promise. An oath that her father would never return.

A few weeks after her father had left and, and her mother had given up hope of his return, the family started having money issues. They had been forced to move to a small apartment with a kitchenette, two bed rooms, and a single bathroom. Cortana's altruistic mother had started to look for a job but it was hard for her to take care of two kids without any help and Cortana could soon see the signs of stress on her mother. Nails bitten to the quick, shadows under her eyes, streaks of gray in her hair. The family had had to start buying clothes from Goodwill and eating smaller portions. Things had, eventually, gotten better but the life style for the Faye family wasn't easy and the air of the little apartment always held a slight tinge of something dark and sad.

Cortana had faith in the thought that things would soon be much happier. Her twin and she were turning sixteen in only two weeks. That meant her and James could get a job and help pitch in with the finances. Maybe then they could afford to go to the movies more often or order off the adult menu at restaurants (Cortana and her brother had to pretend they was still thirteen and under to order off the kids menu. The acting was just to save money but frankly at fifteen they had gotten a lot of dubious looks from the waitresses.). Even though things were looking up for the Faye's, Cortana wished she had a father to share special moments with. She had always gotten jealous when she passed a park with a father standing under the bars at a jungle gym, telling their kid they would always be there to catch them if they fell.

Cortana's melancholy was broken by a cold tug on her wrist. She snapped her head up only to find her vision shrouded in black. Midnight black. Fabric-like black that swirled around her like a cloak. She looked down at her pale wrists, the fine tracery of veins forming a tree-like pattern under the skin, starkly blue against the white of her arm, gripped by another pale hand. Slim fingers gently held her tethered to the spot. The person from the alley loomed up in front of her, tall and imposing like an onyx tidal wave. Cortana looked up but the face of the stranger was turned away from her, the heavy material of the hood blocking her prying eyes. Wild panic rose up in her chest, clawing at her ribs. He followed me. She remembered what she had thought about the Grim Reaper and tried to jerk her hand away but the figure wouldn't let her go. An icy feeling of fear tickled her mind, telling her something wasn't right, demanding that she run. Her heart was pounding, her lungs tight, all her brain cells were screaming in terror, raking the inside of her head with needle sharp talons, trying to inscribe the words run and fear into the bone of the inside of her skull. I'm dead. She thought. I'm dead.

Cortana closed her eyes tight, waiting for the imposing hand to cover her mouth or the sharp pain of getting knocked out. Would she be raped, or beaten? Mugged or killed? She held her breath, wishing it would just be over with but nothing happened. She cracked her eye-lids open and peered at the stranger. He hadn't moved. Taking a deep breath she said, "Let me go. Right now." but he didn't release her. He obdurately held her wrist tighter, his thumb right at the base or her palm, as if taking her pulse, which she was sure was pounding. "How can you see me?" he asked. Cortana was now positive the phantom-person was a male (and possible crazy). His voice sounded lucid and dangerous. It was like the blade of a knife coated in nectar or silk cloth covering a shard of jagged metal. "Are you a silver warrior? In disguise perhaps?"  He demanded. Cortana stumbled, questions dancing through her head. Her mind felt cluttered or somewhat drunken. "I don't understand. I'm not a warrior, I'm a New Yorker. Listen, please don't hurt me. I haven't done anything wrong. I have a family I need to help support." She pleaded. Cortana doubted her begging would work but she was desperate. I don't want to die. I'm not even sixteen yet. I have my whole life ahead of me.

                To Cortana's surprise the stranger released he wrist with a small sound of disgust. "You're just a little girl." He said, somewhat derisively. "Give me my key. That's why I followed you." Cortana opened her hand and he plucked the object from her shaking hand. He turned away from her and began walking. "I don't know how you could see me but its best for you to forget what you witnessed tonight.," He paused and almost as an afterthought said "for your own safety." then he disappeared, melting in with the shadows like a panther slinking through the dark.

                The sky was completely black now, stars glimmering faintly overhead like someone had taken a handful of salt and thrown it across the heavens. The atmosphere was calm, almost peaceful, but a lingering sense of chagrin washed over her when she thought of the last words the ominous stranger had said to her. Cortana, shivering from the terrifying last several minutes of her life and the bitter wind, drew her limp, washed-out jacket around her tired frame, bent her head into the wind and, at last, began her walk home.