I can see my breath in the cold air as I leave through the back door of the restaurant. I tighten my jacket and shiver. My stomach twists with nerves, making it flutter uncomfortably.

If this plan goes wrong, then I'm dead.

I pull my bag tighter over my shoulder and gulp down my fear, letting out another deep breath. Above me, the dim orange light that sits on the wall of the alleyway flickers ominously.

Something rattles in the bins and I jump, my heart leaping into my throat.

"Ew," I mutter under my breath as a rat scurries out from beneath the slightly open lid and drops onto the floor, disappearing into the darkness.

Behind me, the door opens and Bailey, one of the other servers, rushes out.

"I thought you left without me," he says.

I laugh. "And walk down this creepy ally on my own? No way."

"I know," he says and shudders. "The close shift sucks. I prefer lunch service."

"Me too," I sigh and look up at the pitch-black sky. I put my hands in my pocket, feeling for my phone. I had texted Marcus a little while ago that I had arranged for someone to walk out with me when I left, so he didn't need to worry.

He, Mr Salt, and Clarkie had all paid up and left just before close. I had seen them still talking outside the restaurant before I went and gathered my things, so I know all three are still close by. I suspect that Mr Salt is still talking to Marcus. He revels in wasting Marcus' time. Perhaps they're at the wine bar opposite. Or maybe, they are still standing and talking outside the building. I don't know, though I suspect that Marcus isn't far away. Even with my reassurance that I won't be leaving alone, he will want to make sure I get home safely, especially with the threat of Clarkie.

Clarkie. I shudder just thinking about that twisted man.

I wonder if he's found a way to leave Marcus and Mr Salt without Marcus noticing. Or is Marcus doing such a good job at keeping that lunatic occupied so he can't come after me? I hope not. I need Clarkie to attack. Tonight.

My hands tremble slightly. I know I've goaded Clarkie into acting. I've taunted him, made him thirsty to attack. I could see it in the way he watched me with a twisted, hungry stare. If Marcus isn't able to get to me in time, then what will I do? Will I fight back and expose myself? Or will I allow Clarkie to pretty much kill me?

My stomach twists once more and I almost feel as though I'm going to be sick.

"Are you okay, Ivy?" Bailey asks.

I smile. "Yeah," I say and we step out into the street. "Just glad to be out of the ally."

"Same," he says as we make our way to the station. It is only a ten-minute walk but with it being late, the streets are a lot quieter. Even though this is a nice part of town, it isn't busy. One car passes us, and many of the buildings are shut as they are fancy offices. The bars and restaurants are on the main street.

We walk down a narrow side street, cutting a large chunk out of our walk. It is as we enter the shadowy street, I feel it.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand in a way that only one feeling can bring about. The feeling of being watched. The feeling of being followed.

A chill ripples across my body and my heart thunders in my chest. I reach my phone out of my pocket and get Marcus' details ready. I need to time this perfectly.

I let out a shaky breath and look around me wearily. I can see nothing behind me, but then again, I wouldn't. Clarkie is a skilled hunter. He wouldn't be so easily exposed.

A strange quiet hangs in the air and the streetlights seem to dim. I gulp, swallowing a lump in my throat. In my chest, my heart starts to speed up, thumping heavily.

We turn a corner. Bailey is still chatting away, but I don't hear what he's saying. This street is even narrower. With a pothole-filled road running through it, only wide enough for one car at a time, and the tall brick walls of the buildings beside it, there isn't anywhere to run.

I look at Bailey out of the corner of my eye. I need to find a way to get rid of him before he becomes collateral damage in Clarkie's quest.

We near the end of the street and the sense of Clarkie getting closer has the air growing heavy. I can almost feel his breath on my neck.

I can see the end of the street as it opens up into a wider, busier main road. It is on that road, that the entrance to the underground station is. I can see people walking ahead, and a steady flow of cars pass. The street lights are brighter and the blare of car horns fills the silence.

Just before the end of the narrow street, is the entrance to another alleyway, cast in shadows. My stomach twists with fear. That is where it's going to happen.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bailey asks.

"I'm fine," I say, and slow down as we near the ally.

Behind me, I swear I can hear the slow, even footfalls of someone approaching.

I need to hurry up and get rid of Bailey.

"You go ahead," I say quickly. "I have someone meeting me here in the next few minutes."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yeah, we're pretty much on a busy street and the station is only a hundred metres away. I'll be fine," I assure him, somehow smiling calmly.

Bailey shrugs. "Okay, but at least wait on the main street. I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you on this dingy little road."

"Sure," I say, walking with him past the entrance to the dark ally. My stomach knots and I hold my breath, half expecting Clarkie to leap out of there.

We come to the exit of the narrow street and step out onto the main path. I feel a small sense of relief as I watch other people walk past us quickly and see the bright lights from the buildings.

I stop and smile at Bailey.

"See you later," I say to him. "Thanks for walking with me."

"No problem," he grins. "I'm not sure when we're working together again."

"I'll have to look at the rota," I reply. He nods his head.

"See you soon, Ivy. Get home safe."

"I will," I promise, forcing on a tight smile. He smiles back, then turns and walks down the busy street toward the station. I can see the entrance from here, the logo illuminated above the stone steps.

I let out a shaky breath and step back until I'm slightly off the main street and back into the dark, narrow one we had just walked through. I lean on the wall of the building and keep my hands in my pockets to hide them from shaking.

I grit my jaw tightly as I force myself not to look down the dark street. I can hear him approaching. I can hear his sickly, panting breath. I can feel his presence and the way the air grows still. I can smell the strange, rotting scent that Clarkie carries with him everywhere he goes.

Tears prick my eyes as I sense his approach, like a tiger getting ready to pounce.

Three.

Two.

One.

I am yanked into the darkness before I can scream. The force of it sends bolts of pain shooting through my body. Adrenaline burns through me, making my limbs violently tremble. A hand covers my mouth and nose, cutting off my air. I scream against it, the sound coming out muffled and muted. Arms clam around my body, trapping my arms tightly to my sides.

Good.

He hadn't pulled my hands from my pockets. I unlock the phone and pray that I hit the dial button on Marcus' profile, which I had left open in preparation.

Before I left the restaurant, I had made sure that my phone was completely on mute to not alert Clarkie of any call. Of course, that means I have no idea if I managed to make the call. I also have to hope that Marcus will answer.

My lungs burn, as his hand continues to cut off my oxygen supply. My struggling against his tight grip grows weak as he drags me into that horrible ally.

There is a twisted, gurgled laugh in my ear and his hand loosens. I gasp for breath, then bite his fingers.

With a curse, he yanks his hand away. Before I can scream, something slams into the side of my face. I cry out, my voice breaking as I collapse onto the wet ground like a rag doll. Pain shoots up the side of my face and into my head.

Clarkie crouches down next to me and digs his gloved hands into my hair. Roughly, he yanks my head up so I can look into his horrible, cloudy eyes, which almost seem to glow in the darkness. He licks his lips slowly as he stares down at me.

"Please," I beg, my voice breaking slightly. I can't hear if Marcus has picked up the phone, having covered the speakers to also make sure that Clarkie can't hear it either. What I do know, is that Marcus had, with my permission, installed a tracker into it a few days ago after I told him about Clarkie.

"Silly little girl," Clarkie says, his voice sadistically cruel. He drops my head, letting go of me completely. "I'm going to enjoy this."

He stands up. I try to bolt, to spring up onto my feet. He kicks.

I scream as his foot collides with my ribs with such force, that I both feel and hear a crack. He kicks again, and all the air leaves my body in a rush as his foot collides with my stomach. I retch, and cough, tasting blood in my mouth and feeling it drool uncontrollably from my lips. Clarkie leans down, laughing.

"I warned you," he sings, his voice alight with pure, sadistic joy. He leans in close and I can smell his putrid, rotting breath, which tickles the skin on my neck as he whispers in my ear. I rip my hands away in a sudden surge of strength and claw my fingers across his face, scratching him as hard as I can, breaking the skin.

He pulls my hands away and then pins them to my sides before sitting on top of my body, using his whole weight to keep me down.

"I'm going to break every part of your body," he whispers. "I'm going to make you sing such a pretty song. First, I'll start with your flesh." I hear the slow grind as he pulls out a knife. I catch the black blade out of the corner of my eye.

It would be so easy. He wouldn't see it coming. Even in this state, I could move faster than him. It would take two moves to break myself free of his body then reach for his knife and twist it around to bury it into his throat.

But I fight against every urge in my body, forcing myself to continue to whimper. Marcus will be here soon. He has to be.

"Then, I'll break your bones. And then, when you're beautifully broken, I'll break the softest part of you."

I nearly vomit.

"You are all mine tonight, little Ivy. I'm going to make it so that no one sees you as beautiful ever again. No man will ever weaken themselves around you. I am saving men from you."

He rips open my top and presses the tip of the knife to the skin above my breasts.

"No," I whisper, "please. Stop, I'm sorry." I cry weakly and he laughs.

"Too late." His hand clamps over my mouth once more. It is the only warning I have before he begins.

He drags the knife slowly across my skin. It is deep and I feel it slicing away at me. It hurts. It's agonising. I scream. But I don't feel it. Just like I had when I was being beaten over and over at the academy, or when I was being starved and waterboarded during the test, my mind seems to leave my body.

I feel my hot, sticky blood spilling across my chest, soaking into my bra. He laughs in my ear, his voice shaking with excitement. He pulls out the knife.

"I can't wait to get to those," he says, tapping the tip of the knife on my breasts. "But first, something more visible."

I scream again as the point of the knife digs into my temple. Slowly, he draws it down, towards my eyes, which I can already feel are swelling shut.

"Such pretty eyes," he whispers. "So striking. I can see why so many men get lost in them."

The blade is a large, black blur as it approaches my left eye slowly. With his other hand, he holds my eye open. I thrash weekly against him, but it does nothing. He presses the rest of his body on top of me, squeezing down on my chest with his kneecap.

I shake violently, crying out in desperation as I feel the knife slice at the outer corner of my eye. Blood fills my vision and my voice scratches and tears in my throat.

Suddenly, Clarkie stops, sitting up straight. Black spots fill my vision and my head spins. Pain is everywhere, throbbing and burning.

Clarkie looks away, alert. The knife shifts in his hand.

A black shadow appears before him.

Marcus.

I can barely see him through my bloody vision.

"Kaiser..." Clarkie whispers in horror before he is violently thrown off of me. I crane my head, ignoring the pain, to look further down the ally.

Clarkie springs back onto his feet and slashes at Marcus expertly, his movements a blur. Marcus disappears in a cloud of smoke and appears behind him, kicking out his back legs.

Clarkie yells out, collapsing onto the floor as his knee twists at an unnatural angle. Despite that, he tries to attack Marcus again.

I can't look away as Clarkie plunges the knife into Marcus, only for it to meet no resistance and travel through. Having put all of his strength into the jab, Clarkie tips forward, falling through Marcus' body, which oozes with shadows.

He collapses onto his face and before he can get up, Marcus slams his foot into the back of Clarkie's head. There is a sickening crunch, and Clarkie goes slack.

"Ivy," Marcus says, his voice cracking. I moan in response, barely able to see him or anything anymore. Blood fills one eye and the other is swollen shut.

Everywhere hurts.

"It's okay, I'm here," he says, and I feel his arms surround me. I cry out as he lifts me slowly, the movement of it agitating all of my injuries, especially my ribs.

"It's okay," he says softly, "I've got you. You're safe now."