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Description
The wind was whipping rain around the streets, cold water splashing into his face and on the soles of his shoes. He could feel the cold seep through his socks and his toes begged to be warmed but he couldn't slow down. If he stopped, he wouldn't have cold toes to worry about anymore.

Keeping his hood up and his hands deep within the pockets of his sweatshirt, he kept his pace down the deserted alley with paranoia racking his brain. Green eyes darted back and forth at the bleak brick walls surrounding him as he looked for someone watching him. Part of the deal was not to be seen, so he turned the corner right before an old woman hung out the window to collect her now soaked blanket from the line.

Sneakers clapped against the wet cement, making more noise than he wished. Avoiding every puddle as if it held his last breath, he made it to the main road and looked up and down it carefully. His breathing quickened as he stared at the crowded sidewalks in front of shops and began to wonder if he'd ever make it in time.

Weaving through the people with the intent to not draw too much attention to himself, he shook his head until his hood fell to his shoulders. Unkempt brown hair fell into his eyes and he begged an apology to a man he ran into as he passed. With every step he took the more and more goose bumps formed across his skin. The hair on his arms stood up before he hastily dove through the open door of a shop.

The place was unfamiliar, the smell musky and oddly comforting. A small hunched man beckoned a hello and smiled behind a tall desk. Nodding his head towards him in hopes that he'd leave him be, he jumped behind a bookcase right as someone followed him in. Taking in his surroundings, he tried to figure the best exit.

One aisle held old looking artifacts from Egypt, probably fake things for tourists and lonely people to put on display in their homes as if they were of high value. Others held small trinkets, things people would collect to make their houses more full and in fact making their lives less empty. The last held old weapons from every era, everything from guns to cannonballs. This seemed like the best option.

Jogging through the dust coated shelves, his feet made sure not to deceive him and trip him up as he searched for the exit. One hand dared leave his pocket long enough to grab an odd shaped dagger from a table before he moved even faster towards the back of the store. Hearing a loud crash of someone behind him, he found the bathroom and locked himself in it long enough to figure out what to do.

Not daring to turn on the light, he could feel his chest rise and fall so quickly that he was surprised he hadn't passed out yet. The yelling grew louder as he dug his fingernails deeply into the palms of his hands until he could feel the blood run down them. He heard a loud shout, then a crash, then a thump on the ground. A thump he knew all too well.

Rushing from his hiding spot, he blindly ran through the aisles trying to get away from the death that lay behind him. Finding the door he had been searching for, he pushed through it and ran from the place as fast as his tired legs would carry him. Though, it wasn't far before he realized he was in a dead end.

Stopping to bend over, he tried to catch his breath while also trying to keep himself from throwing up all over the street. His paranoia didn't deceive him as footsteps grew louder and louder the closer they got to him. Taking both his hands out of his pockets, he held the dagger in one blood soaked hand as he turned to face her.

"You were supposed to be dead," she whispered, her fingers grasping at the necklace around her throat. Her chin was lifted high as it always was, her eyes cold as she surveyed him over her long pointed nose.

"So were you."

Description
The wind was whipping rain around the streets, cold water splashing into his face and on the soles of his shoes. He could feel the cold seep through his socks and his toes begged to be warmed but he couldn't slow down. If he stopped, he wouldn't have cold toes to worry about anymore.

Keeping his hood up and his hands deep within the pockets of his sweatshirt, he kept his pace down the deserted alley with paranoia racking his brain. Green eyes darted back and forth at the bleak brick walls surrounding him as he looked for someone watching him. Part of the deal was not to be seen, so he turned the corner right before an old woman hung out the window to collect her now soaked blanket from the line.

Sneakers clapped against the wet cement, making more noise than he wished. Avoiding every puddle as if it held his last breath, he made it to the main road and looked up and down it carefully. His breathing quickened as he stared at the crowded sidewalks in front of shops and began to wonder if he'd ever make it in time.

Weaving through the people with the intent to not draw too much attention to himself, he shook his head until his hood fell to his shoulders. Unkempt brown hair fell into his eyes and he begged an apology to a man he ran into as he passed. With every step he took the more and more goose bumps formed across his skin. The hair on his arms stood up before he hastily dove through the open door of a shop.

The place was unfamiliar, the smell musky and oddly comforting. A small hunched man beckoned a hello and smiled behind a tall desk. Nodding his head towards him in hopes that he'd leave him be, he jumped behind a bookcase right as someone followed him in. Taking in his surroundings, he tried to figure the best exit.

One aisle held old looking artifacts from Egypt, probably fake things for tourists and lonely people to put on display in their homes as if they were of high value. Others held small trinkets, things people would collect to make their houses more full and in fact making their lives less empty. The last held old weapons from every era, everything from guns to cannonballs. This seemed like the best option.

Jogging through the dust coated shelves, his feet made sure not to deceive him and trip him up as he searched for the exit. One hand dared leave his pocket long enough to grab an odd shaped dagger from a table before he moved even faster towards the back of the store. Hearing a loud crash of someone behind him, he found the bathroom and locked himself in it long enough to figure out what to do.

Not daring to turn on the light, he could feel his chest rise and fall so quickly that he was surprised he hadn't passed out yet. The yelling grew louder as he dug his fingernails deeply into the palms of his hands until he could feel the blood run down them. He heard a loud shout, then a crash, then a thump on the ground. A thump he knew all too well.

Rushing from his hiding spot, he blindly ran through the aisles trying to get away from the death that lay behind him. Finding the door he had been searching for, he pushed through it and ran from the place as fast as his tired legs would carry him. Though, it wasn't far before he realized he was in a dead end.

Stopping to bend over, he tried to catch his breath while also trying to keep himself from throwing up all over the street. His paranoia didn't deceive him as footsteps grew louder and louder the closer they got to him. Taking both his hands out of his pockets, he held the dagger in one blood soaked hand as he turned to face her.

"You were supposed to be dead," she whispered, her fingers grasping at the necklace around her throat. Her chin was lifted high as it always was, her eyes cold as she surveyed him over her long pointed nose.

"So were you."