-((UUUUGGGHHH!! i'm sorry i'm sorry! I thought i had updated this already!! ARGH! Well, anyway...yeah...this is going to get really weird...those of you who are reading and haven't read The Angels Trilogy yet, i suggest you get started...this is sort of the book that connects The Angels And Sierra Slayer...yes yes...even though Sierra, then this one, THEN The Angels came, the order is The Angels, Death Street, THEN Sierra Slayer...yeah...pretty random...aaaannnddd...i think this is unedited...so...if you spot something, let me know asap, alright? Thank ya'll! --DopeyTheChosen1))-

Chapter One

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She had been on the street for several days now. She only had a little bit of food left. But still, she thought it was better than living with Hate. Alex had cut off her long blue hair a few days ago, and found a strap of cloth to keep what remained out of her face. Now it fell to just above her shoulder, with her spiky bangs falling in her eyes, even WITH the strap in place.

The skinny girl dropped her back and leaned against the wall. She had somehow wandered into an alleyway of some sort. It didn’t matter though. She had quickly found out that no one really cared about her. No one wanted to take her in. No one wanted to give her a job. No one would care if she died.

As she sat on the cold, dirt ground, she began absentmindedly drawing things in the dirt. The drawings were just scribbles, nothing really. Her mind went back to the days before her mother died. She’d had a good life then.

If she had been any other ten-year-old, she probably would’ve been crying now. But she had long ago forgotten how to cry. Every day, she was beaten to the point of crying, and every day it would get harder and harder for her to cry.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Alex’s head snapped up to see who had spoken. It was a boy that looked to be around her age. He was totally punked out. He had a red tank top that showed off his muscular arms, black shorts that went well past his knees, and a backwards black hat to finish the look. He also had cold, black eyes that nearly matched his bluish-black hair.

When she didn’t speak, the boy crouched down and looked her in the eyes. “This place is dangerous. You could really get hurt here.”

She smiled at this. “There is no way you could hurt me anymore than I’ve already been.” She stood up again, her legs wobbling a little bit from hunger. Leaning against the wall she grabbed her pack, but then thought how useless an empty backpack would be, and dropped it back to the ground. It would only slow her down anyway.

“Where do you think you’re going now?” The boy asked. He must have been around eleven or twelve. “Where do you live?”

“Nowhere.” She answered, not looking back, but walking on.

“What’s your name, then?” The boy was persistent as he followed her.

“Alex.”

“Just plain Alex? What’s your last name?”

“I have no last name.” She wouldn’t share a name with Hate. “Why are you following me? I thought you wanted me out of here, the way you were shooing me away and all. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” She’d never been wanted before. Everyone was always telling her to go away. The only one who had ever wanted her was her mother, but she was gone now.

The boy reached out and grabbed her bruised wrist. “Stop. I can tell that you’re in pain. You’re hungry, too. Come to the hangout with me. I can get you food if you want it. And I can see if you can come in. I was a lot like you when I was found.”

“What do you mean by that?” Alex asked, but let him lead her back down into the alley.

“I was like you, well that’s what I’m guessing anyway.” The boy said, leading her past her backpack, which she grabbed as they went by. “I ran away from home and was picked up by the Ghouls; they’re a gang who owns this side of town. I told you that it would be dangerous for you to be here because we’re currently in a fight with the Jolts. They own the other side of town and lately have been coming in here. Sorry that I snapped at you. At first I thought that maybe you were a Jolt spy or something. They tend to send in kids younger than us though, so I wasn’t sure. But when you started to leave, that confirmed that you weren’t.”

They had come to a wall, and the boy began feeling around it. Soon he found the right brick and pushed on it. It sank in for a minute, before springing back out. A side door opened and the two walked inside.

As they walked through the corridor that was lit every few feet by small lights, Alex asked, “What’s your name? Do you have two names?”

“I used to,” the boy admitted. “My name is Michael.”

They had come to another door. There were two people blocking it. Both were dressed in leather, one guy and one girl. They looked to be around sixteen or seventeen years old. The woman had a gun in one hand and held it up, saying to Michael, “What is she doing here?”

“I found her on the street. She’s not a spy. When I asked her what she was doing here, she got all offended and started to leave. She ran away from home. Even if she can’t come in, I wanted to get her some food or something.”

“Maybe,” the man said. He disappeared into the door.

“Where’d he go?” Alex asked no one in particular. She was beginning to get nervous. These peoples were flippin’ SCARY.

“He’s going to check in with the boss,” the woman explained. “Oh, and my name is Lexa.”

“Mine’s Alex.” She jumped as the door creaked open. It was only the other man. He had jet black hair by the way.

“She can come in if she wants,” he reported.

“Really?” The woman asked in surprise. “That’s a first. Usually you have to go through initiation.”

“Have you LOOKED her?” The man exclaimed. “There is no way she would survive initiation. The boss didn’t say she had to, so she don’t have to!”

“Okay okay okay,” The blood-red haired woman rolled her eyes and stepped back to her post by the door. “Sheesh.”

Where the last corridor was gloomy and dark, the room beyond was like the sun. It was as bright as the day outside, though the map tacked to the far wall showed them being underground. The room was about as beig as the average club or restaurant. There was a bar at one end where many more teenagers, mainly dressed in leather, were talking quietly…except for the drunk ones who were yelling about nothing at the top of their lungs. On the other side of the room there was what looked like an arcade. It also had pool and poker tables, as well as a few sets of foosball and air-hockey. All in all, it looked like a fun place.

Michael led her up some stairs towards the back of the room. The second floor looked something like a hotel, with many doors all along it. He explained that these were the dorms. Boys were on one side of the hall, the girls on the other. Everyone got their own room, unless you wanted to share with someone, then you got a deluxe.

Opening a door labeled 12 in large black letters, Michael showed her in. This is where she would be sleeping while she was with the gang. There wasn’t much in there. A bed, desk, TV and a couch. It was just a one room, with a small bathroom and closet on the side.

Looking to the door next to her, she saw that it was number fourteen. That must mean that odd and even numbers were on different sides of the hallway. She turned to see if there was a number thirteen. The door between fourteen and twelve was . . . fifteen.

“Where’s thirteen?” She asked Michael as they headed downstairs.

“There isn’t one,” he said. “That’s the unlucky number, or so I’ve heard. I don’t know if there was one in here originally, or not. I’ve only been with the Ghouls for a few years, though they’ve been in operation for several decades.”

“Sounds like a pretty stupid idea to me,” Alex commented as Michael led her back downstairs. “Does it seem like a stupid idea to you?”

“Well,” Michael admitted. “It does seem pretty silly.”

“Stupid.”

“Silly.”

“Stilpidy.”

“What?”

“A little bit of both.”

“Okay.”

Back downstairs Alex found that there was another door that led to a quieter room than the first one. Here there were people just lazing about. At one end was another bar, but it didn’t serve any beer, but instead food and soda. Michael said that it was free, and soon the two were enjoying hamburgers and cokes.

“So,” Michael asked at the end of the day when they were heading back upstairs. “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s better than where I was before,” Alex admitted. “Much, MUCH better.”

“You do realize that you will probably have to pass some kind of test if you don’t want to be thrown out on the streets again.” He said as they sat in her room, sipping more soda.

“Is that what they meant by the initiation?” Alex asked as she took the old strip of cloth off her forehead. “It sounds sort of . . . creepy.”

“Yeah, it’s not very enjoyable; but everyone has to do it if they want to stay in.”

As he was walking out the door, Alex asked, “What did you have to do?”

Michael paused, as if he was unsure of what to tell her. After a few seconds he said, “I had to kill an enemy that was on our territory.” Then, turning out the light, he added, “Good night, and sweetish dreams.”

Right. Like she was going to have nice dreams NOW.