The hammering inside my head dragged me back to consciousness like a rusty anchor scraping against concrete. I cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. The pale morning light filtering through Martin's thin blue curtains felt like needles jabbing straight into my brain. Christ. What did I drink last night? I tried to roll over on the couch, but something felt... off. My limbs moved with this strange, weightless...

Two days. Gone. I stared at the girl in the mirror, my mind clawing for any fragment of memory from the void between then and now. What had I done? Where had I been? The harder I searched, the more complete the emptiness became. Think, Alan... Think. Nothing. Just this yawning gap where forty-eight hours should have been. No dreams, no flashes, no half-remembered conversations or glimpses of sunlight through windows. Just...

The November cold bit through my jacket as I leaned against the concrete wall, watching the warehouse across the street. Four weeks in Neukölln had taught me that winter crept in fast here, slipping between the industrial buildings like smoke. The streetlights cast uneven pools of yellow on the cracked asphalt, and the air carried the smell of diesel and Turkish coffee from the all-night café two blocks over. I pulled my...

The Foundry squatted between a shuttered auto repair shop and a warehouse whose windows were crosshatched with plywood, the dark brick blackened with the kind of soot Berlin never bothered to wash away. No neon, no name above the door. Just a rusted plaque etched with a warped gear, more graffiti tag than sign. The entrance sat recessed in shadow, guarded by a bouncer with a neck thick as rebar, scanning the street like h...

Klaus’s text had arrived three days ago, blunt and unyielding: Black. Short. Tight. Clean. No bra. Leather or latex preferred. Heels. Makeup done. I’d spent the afternoon hunting through Neukölln’s back-street thrift stores: narrow, cluttered caves wedged between döner shops and auto garages. Fluorescents buzzed overhead, racks sagged under the weight of strangers’ wardrobes. Everything smelled faintly of dust, smoke, and...

Three weeks since that night in the basement, and I could still feel the buzz of that room beneath my skin. Three weeks of ordinary shifts at The Foundry, wiping tables, dodging wandering hands, and watching the familiar rhythms of Klaus's operation unfold above ground. The Crows still held their corner booth. The regulars still nursed their beers. The music still pounded industrial heartbeats through concrete and steel....

The black Mercedes moved through empty streets with the quiet hum of expensive engineering, its tinted windows reflecting neon signs and streetlights that painted brief, colorful streaks across the glass. I pressed my back against the leather seat, trying to disappear into its warmth while my skin burned with exposure. Naked. Still completely naked in the back of a stranger's car, with only the darkness and her studied in...

I pushed myself upright; the robe shifting against skin that still registered every texture with uncomfortable clarity. "How long have I been here?" My voice came out rough, dry. "Three days," Seline replied, uncrossing her legs with practised precision. "Give or take. Difficult to tell down here, ja?" Three days. The number hung in the air between us, too clean and clinical for the fog that clouded my memory. Flashes sur...

The April evening painted Prenzlauer Berg in shades of amber and rose. I stood outside Martin's building, watching the light catch on old facades and turn weathered brick into something almost beautiful. Six months since I'd left this neighborhood. Six months since I'd written that letter and disappeared into this other world. The window on the third floor was open. Martin's ridiculous blue curtains billowed out like flag...

A week had passed since discovering the phone. Seven days of checking locks, testing windows, and counting every shadow that didn't belong. I'd approached Wolf carefully. Told him about feeling watched, about strange coincidences. Nothing specific enough to sound paranoid, but enough to make him take notice. His response was immediate and thorough. The security cameras around the Reihenhaus showed nothing. The hallway lea...