Bridgeport
The Yardbacks
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Ghost train horn echoes at dusk; tracks are long torn out. | Outfit collector meets a local fixer at Cicero’s Tire & Pawn. | A blood-red puddle seeps from a dry alley crack. | Fence Cut rattles as if pressed from the other side. | Three kids dare each other to run past the Red Slab at night. | A stockyard stray dog drops a human finger at your feet. |
| 2 | Pawned relic hums in your pocket; clerk insists it wasn’t sold to you here. | An old woman spits after your shadow, muttering Thursday curses. | Shadows of slaughtermen move along brick walls, blades flashing. | A tired cop warns, “Don’t linger—too many calls from here.” | Rust flakes swirl in the air like snow; skin itches when touched. | A hushed dice game breaks when one die bleeds. |
| 3 | Two teens try to break into Cicero’s—wrong night, wrong watchers. | A rail cart screeches down an invisible track, vanishing mid-block. | The Fence Cut glows faintly, voices leaking through. | An old yardman begs help finding his lost brother—dead since 1923. | A union tough leaves a note on a door: “Paid in full.” | Night fog carries the smell of hot blood and wet iron. |
| 4 | A fight breaks out over a pawned wedding band; both claim the same dead man. | A gang of boys with cattle prods chase something too fast to see. | A burned-out slaughterhouse lamp clicks on when you pass. | The Red Slab glistens dry under clear skies—no one looks directly at it. | A coughing priest walks the alley, scattering salt. | Two shadowy figures argue in Polish; only one casts a shadow. |
| 5 | New graffiti: veal hook sigil with dripping paint that won’t dry. | A body dumped—already gray, eyes wide, no wound. | A whisper offers steady work “under the bricks.” | Pale children play jacks with teeth; vanish when noticed. | Off-shift stockyard men swap stories—each swears his version happened last week. | A train lantern swings in empty air, pacing you for a block. |
| 6 | Cicero’s backroom card table—seat offered if you pay in blood or coin. | An Outfit driver begs for help moving “meat” before dawn. | Corpse flies swarm around nothing visible. | The Fence Cut yawns wider; a hand claws out, then withdraws. | A parish bell tolls thirteen times, unheard by locals. | Wind carries screams from the demolished pens—then silence. |
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