Seven years later…

Three adolescent boys hung around an alleyway, chatting and sharing a pack of cigarettes. A shadow then fell over them. Someone had interrupted them.

“Hey, who are you?” One of the boys said.

“I believe one of you guys has something of mine.” The owner of the shadow said. His voice carried an undercurrent of barely restrained anger. “And I want it back.”

The boy snorted. “We didn't steal nothin’. Piss off, mate.”

“This is your last chance to give it back before start taking it back by force.”

“Who do you think you are—”

The dull thud of a head colliding against brick rang through the alleyway. Two adolescent boys watched in horror as their friend slumped to the ground, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Their attacker, clad in a grey baseball cap, black jacket, and tracksuit pants, kicked the unconscious body aside and stroke deeper into the alleyway.

“I warned you.” The attacker growled. His fists were clad in fingerless gloves, his knuckles stained with dried blood. He stared down the remaining two boys. “What’s it gonna be, guys?”

“Screw you, man!” The older of the two boys charged forward. The attacker sidestepped to the right, allowing the fist to sail straight past him. Before the older boy could blink, the attacker slammed his own fist into the boy's head. A quick barrage of punches to the nose, neck, and solar plexus left the boy down for the count.

A strangled cry escaped from the last boy. He scrambled around, stumbled on a piece of uneven concrete, and ran further down the alleyway. He ran so fast and so frantic that he actually collided at the end. All that awaited him was the end was a solid brick wall, a locked door, and a dumpster filled with rotting trash.

He turned around to see the attacker standing before him. A single eyebrow was raised.

“Well, kid?” The attacker said. He jerked a thumb to the unconscious bodies. “You wanna end up like your friends, or what?”

That was all that was enough to reduce the boy to a cowering mess. With his back to the dumpster, the boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pendant. It consisted of a slim, silver chain affixed to a shard of translucent, purple crystal. The attacker snatched it out of his grasp, checking it over with a critical eye. It was long, shaped a teardrop and hard to the touch. There were no blemishes or scratches on the crystal.

“There, now that wasn't so hard, right?” The attacker said. He shoved the pendant inside his jacket.

“How’d you know it was us?” The boy wheezed.

“Firstly, I've lived in Steeldale all my life.” The attacker said. “I know the streets like the lines on my damn palm. Secondly, it’s my damn pendant. Why wouldn’t I know where it is?”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” The boy hollered. “Who even are you?”

“My name is Adam.”

“Adam? Wait, as in Adam from Eastborough High?” The boy said. A second look confirmed it. No-one in the upper ranks of Steeldale thugdom wore that combination of cap and jacket. This was the fighter with legendary perseverance. Multiple gangs had tried to put him down for good, but Adam always returned packing the heat. He was, without a doubt, one of the top delinquents in Steeldale.

He shivered, neck-haired standing on edge, sweat forming on his back. “I thought you graduated!” The boy said.

“Yeah, I did.” Adam said. “But that's not gonna stop me from beating some punks who thought it was cool to nick my dead sister’s pendant.”

“Your dead sister's...?” The boy gasped, horrified.

Adam crouched down, glaring straight into the boy's face. “You got a name, kid?”

“M-Mark. My name is Mark.”

“Cool. You have a gran or a pop, Mark?” Adam snarled. “They give you something nice for Christmas, yeah? Something you treasure?”

Mark could only nod dumbly. A mountain bike from a few years back sprung to mind.

“Now, how would you like it if someone stole that treasure? Or worse, broke it?” Adam continued. “You'd be pissed, right? You'd want to body whoever did that.”

Mark didn't say anything in response. Adam nodded. “You get it now?”

The boy nodded again. “I’m sorry. Real sorry, honest! I won’t do it again!”

“Like I’d let you. Whatever, apology accepted.” Adam said, standing up. He looked over Mark one more time. “You have fast fingers, kid.”

“Thanks…?”

“But you need to think more. You’ve got a brain, so damn well use it. It’ll save you trouble.” Adam said. “Okay, now tell me who ordered you to nick my pendant.”

Mark gulped. “That’s…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they won’t come after you.” Adam’s reassured. His expression darkened. “By the time I’m done with them, they won’t be able to.”

An hour later, Adam was standing on the edge of a street. It was another cloudy day in the fine city of Steeldale. A mild gale blew, masking the scent of rotting trash mixed with smoke fumes hung thick. Ahead of him lay an arrangement of cracked rooftops, aged apartment blocks, and smoking chimneys from factories.

His phone rang. Adam tapped the cracked screen to answer. “Trent.” He said.

“Yo, Adam.” Trent said. A fellow delinquent from the same school, he and Adam got along well enough. They had fought together on multiple occasions. His southern accent was thick, as usual. “I just had three guys run up to me. Said they were from you. That true?”

“Yeah, they took my pendant.”

“Shit, man, that’s just wrong!” Trent exclaimed. “Want me to beat them up?”

“Already did that.” Adam said. Not that he’d complain if Trent did give those three another whacking. A bit of pain taught respect to the newbies. “Besides, they only did it because some other fucker told them do.”

Adam’s gaze shifted towards the nearby alley. A twitching, bruised figure lay there, obscured by a pair of bins. His arms were bent in unnatural positions. If one checked his pockets, they would come up mysteriously empty. “Tell those greenhorns he won’t be a problem anymore.”

I hope he spends the next week drinking out of a straw. Fucker said it was just a prank.

“Right, right.” Trent said. “These guys any good?”

“One of them has quick fingers. Have them nick wallets for you.” Adam said. “They’ll be fine.”

Trent chuckled. “Man Adam, you're about to go and you're still doing favors for us. We’re gonna miss you.”

The retort that he wasn’t technically part of Trent’s crew almost escaped from Adam’s tongue. There wasn’t much point in corrections, now. “You liked my ugly mug that much, Trent?”

“Fuck you, Adam.” Trent said. “But for real, bro, the streets won’t be the same without you. We ain’t seeing one of your big comebacks, ever again. No more Adam specials.”

The Adam Special referred to how he rose to the top. Observe, learn and practice, practice, practice until he could beat his opponent for good. These past few years, his fights had attracted large crowds, just because of the Adam special.

“I was just doing I needed to do. Nothing special about that.” Adam said. Though, the crowds had gotten him sufficiently pumped on occasion. There was value in that. “It’s up to you now, Trent. Try not to get your ass kicked in the coming days.”

“It’s gonna be real wild, Adam! A bloodbath!” Trent exclaimed. His wide grin was palpable through his voice. “Shame you’ll miss it. Don't scare off any ladies at uni, yeah?”

“Like you’re any better.” Adam snorted. He paused, thinking over his next words. “Trent…”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

He hung up and walked away, an unusual stirring sensation inside his chest.

The thief’s wallet had enough cash for a night stay at the nearest motel. Adam picked up Chinese takeout with beer, then headed over. He ate in a dusty room, chewing through pork too salty and soggy vegetables. Once done, he shoved the cartons aside and crashed on the bed.

He was tired. He had spent most of the day meeting up with acquaintances and resolving any old debts, before the pendant theft incident came up. He ended up getting everything done, regardless. Tomorrow, he would catch a train to the next city over, where his university was. His funds would cover the first two weeks, in which he hoped to find a part-time job. If all else failed, he could scrouge on the streets, just as he did for seven years in Steeldale.

In any case, he didn’t plan on returning to Steeldale, except to visit Mary’s grave.

His neck turned to the side. There was a gap in the moth-eaten curtains. The dusk skyline of Steeldale greeted him. The pretty oranges and purples of a sunset couldn’t disguise the innate poverty of the city. Adam sat up, cracked open his second beer and took a deep sip.

“I did what you said, Mary. I’m eighteen now and I’m going to uni.” He said. He raised the can for a second, then took another sip. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

Survive and win. Mary’s last words echoed in response. They whispered into his ears with every major decision he encountered. He had always tried his hardest to follow them.

Steeldale hadn’t made it easy, these past seven years. The orphanage had been hell, filled with inattentive staff and constant bullying from the older boys, until Adam had finally snapped and assaulted one of them in their sleep. The crack the boy’s skull made was one of the most disgusting, and ultimately satisfying, things Adam had ever heard.

He survived getting kicked out of the orphanage onto the uncaring streets. He fought against kids his age, made acquaintances, learned new techniques. He rose to the top of the hierarchy, scraped graduation from his exams and received his ticket to university.

For someone who had started in the gutter, it was a decisive victory. He knew it. He should feel happy. In fact, part of him legitimately was.

But there was a piece missing. Mary’s piece. When he had received his diploma, he imagined for a second that Mary was in the crowd, jumping up and cheering him along. He ended up pretty plastered that night.

“I miss you, Mary.” Adam whispered. He let the tears roll down his cheeks. He was alone, after all. “I miss you so much. I hope heaven is doing great for you.”

He chugged the last of his beer, tossing the can into the bin with a short throw. He then took out Mary’s pendant from his jacket. As he raised it, a faint bit of sunset gleamed off the violet exterior. Yet another mystery his sister had left him. He never discovered where it came from, or why Mary had it. Delinquents knew jack shit about jewelry, and he had never trusted adults enough to properly inspect it.

Maybe that needed to change, since he himself was an adult now.

I guess I can’t body them I like did with that bastard earlier…then again, nothing wrong like a quick whack to teach people a lesson.

Sometimes, when Adam gazed deep into the pendant on lonely nights, he swore he could see images. Then again, he had clung onto the pendant for so long, being one of the few things left of Mary. He was just projecting. It was practically part of his own body now.

“I should visit her tomorrow…” He muttered. “Gotta say goodbye, before I leave.”

He gave one final glance at Steeldale’s skyline. Despite everything, he would miss this city. It was unkind and reeked of filth, but it was the city where he and Mary had once called home, together.

A quick nightly exercise routine later, Adam was undressed and in bed. He fell asleep quickly, his last thoughts pondering what his new university would bring him.

When he woke up, it wasn’t the dawn of tomorrow, as he expected. Instead, it was a minute to midnight, and Mary’s pendant was glowing bright and hot around his neck.