fliccu

Title ; Terror in the Night
Rating ; PG
Notes ; A pretty normal fic with a strange twist at the end. This was actually written a long, long time ago for a friend for her homework that she asked me to do for her LMAO *snuggles*

Alex flew along the street, the sound of his sneakers slapping against the wet sidewalk pounding in his ears. The rain continued to fall down in sheets, clawing at his shirt like icy fingers. It was unnerving how even the weather seemed to be against him, trying to push him backwards into the greasy clutches of him followers.

He tried desperately to stop as he rounded a corner, his feet scrabbling on the gravel and kicking clouds of dust into the air. As the dust made it's way into his throat, Alex coughed, clutching the brick wall beside him as his body shook violently.

He could hear them now. Could hear them staggering along the sidewalk drunkenly. The sounds of their haggard breathing wrapping itself all around him as they drew ever closer to the alley he was hiding in; clutching the wall like it was a baby's blanket.

Five pairs of feet stomped into the alleyway and the scent of tobacco and sweat assaulted Alex's nostrils, he began to retch, his eyes streaming and the tears burning hot paths down his cheeks. The vagrants approached, sweeping down on him like great bats from the darkest depths of hell. Through the hairy, gorilla-like knuckles of the closest man's hand Alex could see something glinting, raindrops running along it's sharp edges and dripping off the tip.

A knife?

Alex gasped and tried to back away but the man grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, his stubby fingers curling in the sodden fabric. They were so close now. Almost nose to nose. If Alex peered up through the soaking strands of ebony hair drooping limply in his eyes he would see the corneas of the man's eyes were faded mustard yellow and his few remaining teeth were coal black.

The vagrant wrenched Alex's palm open and he felt something cool pressing against his wrist. This was how he was going to die, alone in a back alley. Unarmed and surrounded by a bunch of stinking, disgusting tramps with knives.

The man pressed the cool metal against his palm, then dropped Alex's shirt and backed away. So stunned at his sudden release, Alex's knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground. The man's voice rasped out, quiet as though it hadn't been used in years and hard to detect against the still pounding rain.

"Kid, you dropped your keys."