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When I was fifteen, my drunk father beat me so badly that I was barely clinging to life. Clutching my entire fortune, ten dollars, I ran into the seediest corner of Albio, Raven Alley. At the end of the alley, there was a clock shop that always opened after midnight. Rumors had it that the owner wasn't even human. He cast no shadow and never showed up during the day. I slid my blood-stained dollars across the counter to him, begging him to protect me. The pale, handsome man took the money. He neither agreed nor refused. He just fixed those deep gray eyes on me and asked three questions, "Are you afraid of blood? Are you afraid of dead people? Are you afraid of me?"