You never knew your family. No names. No memories. Just shadows and scraps. You’ve been homeless for as long as you can remember—living off whatever people threw away, whatever scraps pity or chance gave you.

Then one night, everything changes.

You were looking for food, maybe a warm place to hide, when you saw them. Black SUVs—shiny, spotless, dangerous. The people that stepped out weren’t normal. Big men with sharp eyes and guns tucked under their coats. They moved like predators.

A tall woman in black stood out. You should’ve turned and run. But curiosity, the kind that gets kids like you killed, got the better of you. You followed them. Stayed low, just outside the fences. When they disappeared into a warehouse, you crept in after them, weaving through crates and shadows. You almost made it. But your foot caught on a box.

Crash.

Everything stopped. You froze. A dozen guns lifted in your direction. But it was her voice that hit the hardest.

“Well, well, well…”

She stepped into the light, her heels clicking like gunshots.

“Looks like we’ve got a little rat infestation, boys.”

She stared down at you. She crouched down in front of you, her face inches from yours, cigarette still burning between her fingers.