It's October, my favorite month of the year. I needed a little break from writing, "Fallen Snow," in order to clear my head and get myself motivated to write again. To that end, I've written a little something different that I hope you all enjoy.
This entry jumps genres a bit. If that statement worries you, jump to the end and I'll have a small note to give you an idea of what you're getting yourself into. The note at the end is however a spoiler.
I love feedback and constructive criticism. So rate it and let me know what you think. Enjoy!
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His lungs burned as he ran through the darkness. His feet pounded the pavement, one after another, heavy and exhausted from his flight. The sound of his footsteps echoed across the abandoned street and boarded up storefronts. It made the street seem eerie. A city block was supposed to be a lively place. A bubbling crescendo of noise. Car noise, laughter, kids playing their music too loud, all of the sounds of life. The street he was on was dead silent. It wasn't an encouraging sound.
His throat felt dry as his chest rose and fell in an increasing frantic manner. Sweat beaded on his arms, mixing with the ample blood from his various wounds. The cool autumn air would have felt pleasant on his skin if his head wasn't swimming with dizziness from the beating he'd taken. He continued to run, every step was a fresh agony on his tight, blood filled muscles.
He turned down a dark alley between two brick buildings. He narrowly avoided running head first into a dumpster while taking a tight turn into the alley. His foot hit a glass bottle. It went skittering across the asphalt in front of him.
Alex had fucked up; he'd fucked up bad. He'd barrowed money from the wrong people and they wanted payment. God he was an idiot. One cute girl shows up in his life with a sad story and a killer set of tits, and he decides to end his 19-year streak of staying out of trouble. When she told him of her run in with these people he should have ended it right there. Thanks, but no thanks. Instead he got himself involved and when she split town, he found himself saddled with her debt.
How do I get myself into these things?
He didn't need to look behind him to know they were close. He didn't even need to hear the sound of their footsteps behind him. The sound of his own heartbeat rang like an alarm bell in his head, reminding him of the danger he was in. Not much time now, he thought. He could feel the beginnings of a cramp in his left calf. This chase would end soon.
He turned the corner out of the alley. His eyes shot wildly in every direction, taking in his surroundings. He was looking for options and he wasn't seeing much. The few street lights that remained functional painted a grim picture. Small decrepit homes sat opposite crumbling brick storefronts. The pothole marred street was littered with trash. Everywhere he looked he was greeted with boarded up doorways and windows covered in security bars. This must have been a pleasant industrial area, once upon a time. Now it was an urban corner of hell.
This place had been defaced and forgotten by the world a long time ago. It never even occurred to him to knock on the door of one of the few occupied buildings he saw in his path. This was a part of town where hope went to die. Where you kept your doors locked and your ears shut after dark. He wouldn't be getting any help and he knew it.
He ducked into the first abandoned house he came across that wasn't boarded up with plywood. He understood why it wasn't boarded up the moment he crossed the threshold. Every window in the house was broken. The walls were covered in peeling, puke green wallpaper. Portions of it were peppered with the darker, fuzzy splotches of black mold. Decay seemed to ooze off the walls onto a hardwood floor that hadn't seen a drop of lacquer in a long time. His feet crunched on god knew what as he walked on the creaky wood flooring away from the door. The whole place was a cesspool of neglect and rot. The kind of place you wanted a tetanus shot just walking into.
Perfect.
He found a creaky, narrow staircase that descended into the basement. He tentatively placed his foot on the first step, carefully shifting his weight onto the wooden deathtrap. It held. He took the time to take a small sigh of relief before carefully taking his next step. The whole way down he thought he was going to fall through one of the rafters, breaking his leg or worse in the process. He breathed a much larger sigh of relief when his feet finally felt solid ground once more.
Alex surveyed the room around him. Various boxes and assorted garbage had been haphazardly piled against the walls of the room. Portions of the roof and first floor had caved in under half a century of winters. Rays of silver moonlight shown through the gaps, illumination patches of the stained concrete floor.
Not much time now. He needed to hurry. He dashed towards the largest section of shadow in the dimly lit basement. Ducking behind some old boxes, he knelt down to wait.
He tried to hold his breath, to be as quiet as possible. Every breath sounded like a jet engine. Every shift of his weight, on his tired legs, sounded like a gunshot. He could only hope that the men chasing him would pass by the dark house and continue down the street.
He'd started to believe that he had done it, that he had successfully hid from them, when he heard it. The sound of boots on the rotting wood of the first floor sounded like cannon fire to his ears. Shit, he thought. The doorway to the basement was right in the open. There was no way they wouldn't check it.
No choice now, he thought with growing dread. They were going to find him any minute and he knew there was only one person who could help him now.
Her.
He needed to act fast. He swallowed his growing fear and quietly walked over to a bare section of concrete in the center of the room. Kneeling down, he began to drag his wounded hand over the rough, cold floor. In no time he had drawn a rude circle in his own blood. He tore off a piece of his shirt and let it soak thoroughly with his own blood. He knelt down and focused on the more detailed aspects of the summoning circle.
The design was a familiar one. It had been etched into his mind for as long as he could remember. His mother had always told him to be warry of bindings. It was one of the first things he remembered her teaching him. That the demons of the Pit took bargains made of free will deadly serious. The irony of what he was about to do wasn't lost on him.
He'd just completed the summoning circle when he heard them. They must have heard him moving around downstairs. Fuck, he thought.
In his haste, he'd accidently smudged one of the symbols with his knee while crawling out of the circle. A streak of blood now connected two of the symbols, a potentially fatal flaw in the design. He forced himself to a take a breath and forget about the mistake. This wasn't a normal summoning. If he was being completely honest with himself, he knew that it was his blood that would form the real connection.
Alex uttered no spells, no incantations. There were no blood sacrifices or rituals. None of that was necessary. The work was done, now all he had to do was wait. Heavy footsteps pounded down the creaky staircase. He took a deep, calming breath and turned to face the new arrivals.
Two walls of muscle stepped out onto the dirty concrete floor. Goon #1 and Goon #2 looked like they could have been football stars. In fact, given the proximity to the university in town that's probably what they were. A couple of washed out football players, now quite good enough to make it to the pros. Alex doubted that they had developed a gentle temperament from their lot in life. They looked big, mean and dangerous. They also weren't important. Alex turned to the man who stepped in-between them.
The short, balding man was dark of hair. He was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans. The jacket was expensive and would have put off an aura of class if warn by anyone else. Between his gold tooth and greasy skin, Alex felt nothing but nausea and contempt towards the hobbit of a man in front of him.
"H-Hey Butch."
"Alex, Alex, Alex. Now why d'ya have to run? I thought we were friends." The man opened his hands wide, in an inviting manner as he spoke. A fake, overly friendly smile was plastered on his face. His gold tooth sparkled in the moonlight.
