Repo 9- Behind the Curtain

Shilo felt at least a little blessed that she did not suffer from agoraphobia.

The outside overwhelmed her, of course, but she didn't panic when she stepped out into the night air.  She clutched her wrist instinctively; she might have ditched the medical alarm her father had forced her to wear, but its presence had been ingrained in her since early childhood.

"Gonna stand there all night?" She looked up at Graverobber, his brow lifted quizzically.

"No," she responded, her voice haughty.  "I'm right behind you."  She skittered to his side, the scars at the back of her head barely visible in the dim light.

"Just try to watch your back, kid.  And if you get the chance, watch mine too, eh?"

Shilo hid in the background while Graverobber met with his regulars.  Most of them were women- including that one woman that Shilo had met the night of the carnival- but there were a few men as well.  They were not as sexual in their exchanges, but occasionally one of them would notice Shilo and leer.  Her attire might have been slightly more modest than that of the other women in the vicinity, but it was clearly not uninviting to the eyes.

Shilo would pin herself against the wall at these moments, praying they would move on.  They did, thankfully; Graverobber did an excellent job of reminding them of the legality of their situation.  The men would disappear at the mere implication of a raid.

That night was uneventful as far raids went.  Graverobber peered over at one point, and with his signature smirk referred to Shilo as a "good luck charm".

The flush in her cheeks told him more than her stubborn silence and stony glare ever could.

Later encounters would prove Shilo to be valuable; she might disapprove of Zydrate, but she did nothing to stop the deals.  She was, in point of fact, excellent at warning the crowd at the most barest scent of danger.

She could detect a cop in the area like a shark detects blood in the water.  No one had to worry about getting caught while she was there.

The profits kept Graverobber alive and highly mobile. He stayed with her less and less.  His presence in the house was less noticeable, and it seemed that time would soon erase him completely.  That thought occurred to her often, and with it came a loneliness that stuck to her through endlessly long nights.

It was a loneliness that couldn't be combated by hugging her pillow and calling for someone to help her.  In a mansion inhabited by ghosts, she was the only living thing there. And the thought of ghosts just gave her a deeper sorrow.