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A shadowy figure moves through an alleyway. Past a tabby cat. Around a dumpster filled with refuse. Dancing over muddy puddles that reflect neon signs advertising coming attractions.

A spy movie. Perhaps a prestige picture.

The mysterious and nefarious being makes his way up to a couple waiting with their young child for a taxi to whisk them back to suburbia. Back to a pleasant house in a pleasant neighborhood where there are no alleyways or honking horns or men who know nothing but darkness in their hearts. The kind of darkness that crawls up to innocence looking for a dime or a dollar or a hundred dollars so it can feed the greed that vines its way around whatever’s left of a soul.

This little family is about to be terrorized by that rogue, that soundrel, that antagonist. The little daughter will be traumatized as her doll falls to the sidewalk. The mother will scream, but that dastardly devil will put his filthy, gloved hand up to her mouth to silence her as her husband watches on in horror. He’ll hand over what cash he has on him, and the evildoer will disappear into the night, but the damage will have been done.

Unless…

Someone puts a stop to it.