Hello people of the internet! I'm back with another story! I have another story "Bunnee" if you are interested anyway I hope you like this story! Review please! DISCLAIMER: I DONT OWN THE INFERNAL DEVICES!
The man's hand fell to the ground with a squishy thump and a cry of anguish.
"What the hell lady?! All I wanted to know was your price!" He screamed in a secluded alley in London.
"I'm not a prostitute! Get it through your rotten head!" I yelled back. What happened was that he made a move one me, and all who know me know that you don't mess with me. The man's partially skeletal hand was starting to create a river of blood. Not to mention that all of his body was either rotten flesh or bone. I trapped him up against a wall.
"Well with your looks..." he said suggestively and licked his lips with his gruesome slug of a tongue. The action earned him a punch in the head, knocking him unconscious. He fell to the ground in a heap, and when he did, he went from the most vile creature on earth to the most cherubic person in the universe, but I learned the hard way a long time ago that people like him are not to be judged on looks. As I walk away I put my switch blade in my pocket of my torn jeans only to be hit with a brick in the neck from behind. The world goes fuzzy and I find it hard to focus on one thought. Run! Fight! What the heck? How did he recover so fast? Are a few thoughts spinning around my head at light speed, which in of itself almost make me pass out. I blindly run in any direction and for some unknown reason I notice a hauntingly beautiful sound coming from Blackfriars Bridge nearby. I hit a wall. Things are starting to come back into focus but I still am mostly blind. I try running to the left and right. No luck. I'm trapped and at a distinct disadvantage. I hear footsteps running toward me and I brace myself for impact but no such impact comes. All I heard is a grunt and the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. I scratch my warm and itchy neck and my vision has recovered enough for me to see that my hands are covered in blood, in fact I can feel that my entire back is covered. I feel the ground come up to meet my head which doesn't make the situation any better. Footstep are yet again pounding to me, now as hollow and echoy as the sound of my pulse in my head. An unintelligible voice speaks indistinct words to me before I let go to the blackness of my head.