You're just taking a stroll through the city as evening falls, enjoying the fading warmth of the day on your skin. The familiar sounds of urban life surround you - car horns in the distance, chatter from nearby restaurants, the rustle of leaves in the slight breeze. As you pass a narrow alley between two old brick buildings, an unsettling noise catches your attention - something like fabric brushing against concrete, but too soft to place.

Pausing mid-step, you hesitate, your heartbeat quickening slightly. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as an icy prickle runs down your spine. Against your better judgment, you turn toward the darkness between the buildings. At first, you see nothing but shadows and discarded trash.

Then your eyes adjust to the dimness, and your breath catches in your throat. About twenty feet down the alley, two points of light glow steadily in the darkness - not the reflective shine of animal eyes caught in light, but an eerie, pulsating luminescence with the distinct shape of hearts. They're fixed directly on you, unblinking, unwavering in their gaze.