The alley stretched before him, dark and shrouded in shadow. The neon lights were blurred patches of brightness in the fog. They were down there - somewhere. He could sense them, waiting, watching. He cocked his head listening, his eyes scanning the buildings. Nothing moved except the fog, curling and twisting like a living thing. There really was no choice. He had to go on. There was no turning back, now. He had set into motion events that must be followed to the end, even if that end was his death. This is my first DAZ Studio post. I rather like it. DAZ's Michael 4 Stonemason's Tin Pan Alley Dreamlight's Dark City powerage's Ghost Agent