Page 22 of Nocturne
Because by the time I caught up to him… it was already happening.
Shots. Blood.
His body hit the pavement before I could even scream.
I ran to him, knees scraping the ground, hands shaking. His blood was still warm when I touched it.
And I was there. I was fucking there. But I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t save him.
Until Carter showed up.
He found me that same week, some random night,the same haunted look I saw in the mirror. Asked what I wanted. I said justice. He said he could help me get it. At the time, I thought he was just another dude looking to recruit a lost kid. Maybe he was. But I said yes. Because I didn’t have anything left to lose.
That’s how I ended up in the Nocturne Pact. Not for power. Not for glory. But because I needed answers.
And now, every move we make with Iron Requiem feels like it’s getting me closer to the truth. Or dragging me deeper into something even worse.
I shake that shit off, same way it keeps crawling back. Light up a cigarette. The smoke hits like cold steel in my lungs, and for a second, the tension bleeds out of my body. Just a second. But sometimes that’s all I need.
My head’s a mess, sure. But deep down? I’m steady. Because today I’ve got a lead. A crack in that fucked-up night. And I’m meeting this person alone. No heads-up. No backup. No one even knows I’m doing it. Not just because I don’t trust anyone with it. But ‘cause I can feel it, deep in my bones, this shit is bigger than anyone realizes.
Ain’t nobody needs to know. The less talk, the less heat.
?????
I still got some time before meeting the guy who's supposed to hand me the next clue about Noah’s murder. So I throw on my workout gear, lace up my sneakers, and head down the stairs of my building without overthinking it.The morning air’s sharp as hell, cuts right through, but I don’t mind — the sun’s beating down hard, heating my skin while I run. Boston rolls by around me in a rhythm only my body knows. Every stride clears my head, keeps my shit in check.
Morning light slices through the leaves like the sky’s tryna reach me. Old brick buildings with iron balconies make me slow down for a sec, it feels like walking through some memory that ain’t even mine. The street goes quiet. Just the sound of my sneakers hitting the pavement and the whisper of leaves overhead. Everything slows down, like Boston’s handing me this small-ass piece of peace without even asking if I earned it. And maybe I didn’t. But I take it anyway.
Soon as I turn the corner and hit the park, the whole vibe shifts. The trees are spaced out, branches letting the sunlight drip through and kiss the grass with this calm that kinda pisses me off. There’s still dry leaves on the ground, leftovers from colder days. I keep running, but my pace dips without me meaning to. There’s something about this green silence that hits different, like every step pulls me a little further from the mess, even if it’s just for a minute. And fuck... I need that minute.
I keep going for another two blocks. The air burns hot on the way in, shreds my lungs. Sweat’s running down my back, my arms, sticking my shirt to my skin. Cars go by, horns somewhere far off, but it all feels distant. My mind slows down. Feels lighter. Cleaner. For a few minutes, there’s no past. No death. No payback to collect. Just the sound of sneakers on asphalt and a body thatwon’t stop moving.
I end up stopping at this spot with tables out on the sidewalk, one of those streets that looks straight outta a movie, people laughing, eating, not giving a damn about anything except their food showing up. I stop running, grab a seat alone, and order whatever. Then I just sit there, looking around, trying to picture what it’d be like to live like this. Have normal friends, a simple routine, maybe someone waiting for me at home. And even though I know that life’s not mine to live, for a few minutes, just watching... it almost feels real.
I stay there, still, staring at a view that blends the old and the new, nature and concrete. The trees are already shifting colors, yellows, oranges, burnt reds, swaying slow like they’re trying to whisper stories only time remembers. Right in the middle of it, the buildings rise tall, glass catching the deep blue of the sky and that sharp sunlight, making it feel like the whole city’s breathing with me. That old church, with its thin tower slicing the clear sky, looks like a ghost from the past, guarding secrets in the shadows of the trees.
The lake in front of me reflects it all with this weird calm, almost hypnotic, while the breeze drags fallen leaves and that damp, earthy smell into my chest. It’s the kind of place that holds both peace and restlessness — perfect for someone like me, always chasing a break in the middle of the chaos.
I sit there, still out of breath, sweat drying slowly on my shirt, clinging to my skin. The run was long, but I needed it — clear my head, bleed out the anger, burn offthe adrenaline still racing in my veins. Breakfast lands in front of me and I look at the plate like it’s some kind of well-earned trophy.
Two hot pancakes, soft enough to catch the fork right. Bacon crispy and salty, just how it should be, sharing space with a fried egg that looks straight outta a commercial — bright yolk dead center, edges perfectly golden. Hash browns, golden on the outside, still soft in the middle, no fancy bullshit. Maple syrup sitting on the side, ready to make a mess. I take a sip of black coffee, bitter as hell, and breathe deep — for the first time today, it actually feels like everything slows down.
I pull my phone and apartment keys outta my pocket and drop them on the table. The screen lights up, blowing up with notifications. Nocturne group chats, Carter blowing it up as usual, and one that’s just me, Emma, and Vincent. I don’t wanna deal with any work bullshit right now. I just wanna sit here, breathe, be alone.
So I ignore everything else and open only our group. Vincent’s still laughing about the fight he had with Zion, one of Hunter’s trusted guys, during the meeting two days ago.
VINCENT:
Hunter should’ve stayed the fuck outta it. Even Carter didn’t step in lol
EMMA:
It wasn’t the time, genius
VINCENT:
Next time, if someone holds me back, they’re catching hands too
