Rain poured, dripping from the rooftops, cleaning the streets. The clouds were covering the sun, making the alleyway even darker than it already was. Nothing other than the soft sound of rain falling onto different surfaces was there to be heard. The sound and the location don’t seem to fit. The rain created a calming sensation, cleaning everything. Whereas the alleyway was everything but calming. Dumpsters filled with trash, so much, some of it fell out and covered most of the floor. The stench, normally stinging your nose, was less thanks to the rain, but the smell of garbage and human urine was clearly visible.

No one would dare to walk through this alleyway, even in the morning light. Still, one man walked slowly, ignoring everything around him. His hands were in the pockets of his vest,  his hood was covering his head. Head slightly facing downwards, making it impossible to see his face. He knew where he was and where he had to go.

Everything was done. His book is on its last page, and there is only one more thing to do. One more thing until the next book starts. Another book with a plot wide open. A time of a new living.

This was more than creating closer for himself. This was about a promise. A promise he made to someone who was a better and braver man than he ever was.

He was close to where he wanted to be. Many times he heard about this man, a master hacker. Never caught. That man can do anything with a computer. Create as well as delete.

The door he’s seen only once before, for the same reason, yet so different, remained the same. He knocks and after a small “come in” he enters.

It’s dark, the only lighting is the artificial glow of the computers that are filling the room. He has to watch his step, before he trips over an extension cord. There are no chairs, the only non-computer object is a refrigerator standing in the corner.  

“First time I’ve actually seen someone twice here.” A voice says. In a swift move, the man behind the computer turns his wheelchair to face the hooded man.

No one knows how he got in that chair, and no one cares. Time and time again he has succeeded in helping them, that is what they cared about.

“For the same thing, I guess?” He asks, cleaning his glasses with his shirt at the same time.

“Same thing, different reason.” His hands are still in his pockets and his hood is still covering the side of his face.

Last time he was brought here. Together with a group of men and women who were all different, and yet wanted the same. A new life, separated from everything.

“You’ll be easy to erase, since they already did most of the work. Creating someone new is harder, but an easy job for me.” The man said, already back at his computer and typing at a fast speed.

“I got everything covered.” He says a few minutes later. “ Only one thing left. What do you want your name to be?”

“Blaine Ander-“ He says instinctively. But this is not what he wants. That name is in his past. It has to do with the man he was, and not with the man he is today. That name, still burned in his mind, is not something he’ll drag along this time.

He thinks about something different. Almost immediately it pops into his head. The perfect name. A sign of his future.

“Blaine Hummel.”