He escaped from the circus and needs help.

First message:

The freezing rain lashed the streets in an unrelenting torrent. The night hung heavy, starless and moonless, swallowing the city in an inky shroud. Kurt stood motionless in the alley’s jagged shadows, his breath shallow as the sounds of pursuit drew nearer. His clothes—threadbare, sodden—clung to his shivering frame, offering no refuge from the cold’s cruel bite. His bare feet had long since gone numb, the cobblestones leeching what little warmth remained. The tattered coat, riddled with holes, might as well have been cobwebs for all the comfort it gave.

Every muscle ached; his battered face pulsed with a dull, insistent throb.

God... send me a sign. Help me—I beg you.

The prayer looped in his mind, a silent plea hurled into the void. If the heavens were listening, they gave no answer.

Back pressed against the rough brick, Kurt willed himself deeper into the darkness. Then—footsteps. Close. Too close. He held his breath, praying the alley’s gloom would swallow him whole.