New York City, 2015

An alarm went off as metal doors slammed behind a young man who thought his name was Maksim. He had five minutes to find something, anything worth for the taking.

The hallways were dark, but to him they weren't dark enough. His deep eyes were used to searching in lightless places. His ears where used to the repetitive, ear piercing alarms and his heart was as used to the pounding as his hands were to sweaty palms.

Life felt like nothing more than a game. It didn't have a meaning. Maksim didn't know who he was or where. He had nothing; He only knew, much from instincts what he had to do to survive.

Sirens sounded from streets away. Four minutes remained as clocks on the walls ticked.

Maksim grabbed whatever food lied on the shelves and shoved them into his bag. The siren grew louder. Heavy footsteps raced through halls from where he had come from.

Two police scurried to the front of the doors. Any minute now and they'd burst in.

When they did, Maksim was suddenly nowhere in a wondering eyes sight.

"He's at it again," the head police mumbled.

"We won't find him," another muttered. "We never do."

Their flashlights wouldn't help them now as Maksim was already far gone.

He kept running and hiding until dawn approached. Maksim then found himself far away, sitting by a dumpster in an alley way. His shaky hands were picking at the things he had stolen. They wouldn't last him forever, but they'd be enough for now.

He sat alone with a familiar city stray he named Oscar, considering this broad, yellow eyed tabby cat his friend particularly because he never had anything bad to say to him. Oscar was a simple relationship, as he'd simply meow for food once in a while or keep him a little warmer on cold nights.

Maksim's clear blue eyes darted around the brick walls surrounding him. He hated the thought he still had no idea where he was. He was homeless, he was alone, and he knew that. Yet he was free and in a way trapped all at the same time.

Maksim shamefully came to realize he wasn't anything like the people around him. There seemed to be two sorts of people. The feverishly people who darted from place to place with a destination, and then there was the sluggish, who seemed to be going no where at all.

Maksim didn't know if he were amongst the sluggish or not. He once had a destination, but right now he couldn't remember where and he certainly couldn't remember why.

His lanky legs strolled around the city that day, observing things, searching for answers. He wanted to know what it meant to be here of all places. He wanted to know exactly what this world was made of.

My past, where is it? Why is everything so unfamiliar to him? Something solid, almost unmovable stood in the way of blocking all his memories and everything he ever knew.

From time to time he'd see newspapers flying around. A couple of times he'd pick them up, trying to read whatever were printed on the front cover.

Mysterious disappearing thief on the loose said the words he could barely read.

Rapid dark clouds started to form in the sky. People would start to vanish as they got to their homes or into buildings to hide from the strong winds. Maksim had an alley way he usually kept sheltered in.

He started to feel heavy as he walked through the crowds to his usual spot. The clouds above him made such a dense pressure on his shoulders. His head started to pound and legs became wobbly. Colors and edges started to clash with one another as nothing anymore was making sense.

That's when he noticed someone was following him, but whenever he turned he could only see a shadow. Who was it, and why was he following him?

He got to his alley way where this shadow that followed him, about as broad and as tall, caught up.

"I keep seein' you around kid, what you up too?" the shadow sneered. He slammed Maksim into a wall in the dark alley way.

Maksim didn't fight back. He remained frozen, trying to see the man's face.

The man grabbed Maksim's bag away.

"I'll be taking this," he snarled.

Maksim moved not even an inch as the man threw a punch at him. Maksim went to fight back, he wanted nothing more than to, but with every blow to the head, Maksim started to see again in a way he hadn't been able too. With every ache he started to remember, so he couldn't fight back. He didn't want too. He simply wanted to see.

"You ain't even worth my time, scum!" the man shouted in slurs.

A high pitched ringing sounded and suddenly Maksim once again felt he was not on earth.