"HEEELP!"
His scream tore into the night but the roar of traffic swallowed it whole. The city's backstreets didn't care.
"SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!!" His voice cracked as he stared down at the ground far below. His ankles were bound, his body hanging over the edge, his life dangling by a rope.
"Are you done?"
The man froze.
He slowly looked up past his own dangling feet.
Standing there was a well-tailored figure calm, composed. Leather gloves. A black coat. A book resting in one hand.
"Ta… Taxman… please… don't do this…" Sweat poured down his face as his voice trembled.
The man said nothing.
His gaze was steady. Indifferent. As if he were not looking at a person—but at a number.
"HELP!!" the man screamed again.
But tonight was the weekend.
The city was alive cars honking, people laughing, music echoing through the streets. No one heard him.
"Please… I'll pay you back! I swear! I'll give you everything!" Tears streamed upward across his face as he hung there, gravity pulling him toward death.
The Taxman finally spoke.
"No need."
His voice was calm. Final.
He opened the leather bound ledger in his hand.
"I can recover my losses… by selling your organs."
"NO! PLEASE DON'T...!"
The Taxman didn't even look at him.
Instead, his gaze shifted to the man holding the rope.
"Drop him."
The order was quiet.
Absolute.
The guard let go.
"HEEEEE..."
Silence.
The body hit the ground far below with a dull, distant thud.
Everyone on the rooftop knew—he was dead.
A man nearby trembled violently, standing beside one of the Taxman's enforcers in black suits.
The Taxman turned his gaze toward him.
Cold.
Empty.
The man swallowed hard.
That look alone said everything.
Pay up… or die trying.
The Taxman closed his ledger.
'That should be enough to send a message' He glanced at the trembling man again.
"Escort Diaz home."
The guard nodded. "Move."
Diaz didn't argue. He followed immediately.
He had survived.
And he understood.
The Taxman stepped toward the edge of the building, looking out over the glowing city.
It was beautiful.
People always wasted this view.
They spent their last moments begging… screaming… cursing.
No one ever appreciated it.
No one ever appreciated anything.
You give them money when they're desperate, they forget.
You remind them, they complain.
You collect, they call you a monster.
Vance Grave stared at the city below.
His expression didn't change.
"Go down" he said to one of the guards. "Collect what's usable."
"What about the body?" the man asked.
"Leave it."
Vance looked up at the night sky.
"The dogs will handle the rest."
"Yes, sir."
The guard left.
Vance stood alone.
Silent.
Still.
Watching the stars.
Then
A crack.
Not in the ground.
In the sky.
His eyes narrowed 'What is that?'
A thin fracture stretched between the stars.
He blinked.
It was still there.
He blinked again.
It grew.
His grip tightened on the ledger.
Then
It tore open.
The city stopped.
Cars halted.
Voices faded.
People stepped out into the streets, staring upward.
For the first time…
The city fell silent.
Then
Light.
Blinding white light.
It poured from the tear in the sky.
Everyone covered their eyes then.
"AAAAAHHH!!" A woman's scream shattered the silence.
The smell of blood filled the air.
Vance raised his gaze and saw it.
A towering figure of stone.
Screams erupted.
People ran in every direction.
Order collapsed instantly.
The creature raised its arm and brought it down.
"THUD" Bodies burst beneath the impact.
Twenty one people, gone in a single moment.
Vance didn't move.
His eyes widened slightly.
Not in fear.
In calculation.
'Diaz…' His grip on the ledger tightened.
One thought surfaced above all others 'Where are my debtors?'