When I was a kid, Kohi-chan, our dark coffee-colored dog, used to love to wake me up in the morning. He would slink into my room, nose his way under my covers and pull at my socked feet with his teeth. Yes, I like to sleep with socks on. I hate when my feet are cold. Don’t judge.
“Kohi-chan, get off,” I mumble, clawing up through the black. I open my eyes and find my slack and pained body being dragged through an alleyway. The walls around me are concrete gray and without tell-tale signs. Non-descript and vacant. Smoke clouds the sky and far off sirens climb and fall between booms. Explosions?