1

Ryan plopped down on the couch, and sluggishly searched for the TV remote on the side table. It took him about three minutes to actually find it. He turned on the TV, MTV2, but the show didn't interest him to much. He took a couple minutes searching through the channels until he reached the news. On the news, it just said the typical stories, until the reporter said, "This just in, another suspicious murder happened, about 12:40 last night, at the Empire State Building." After the reporter finished reporting, Ryan started to fall asleep, not even thinking about what he just heard on the television.

A shadow was creeping up to him, through the hall, while he slept. Every time the floor creaked, Ryan would shift on the sofa. The shadow got quieter as it crept closer. Then a small, cold hand slowly reached down over the back of the sofa; then it firmly grabbed Ryan's shoulder.

"Oh my, gosh" Ryan yelled, while jumping a couple inches off the couch, "Why did you do that?"

"I did it because it was funny!" Shanna laughed. He just glared right into her beautiful light green eyes. He stood up, and walked slowly over to her. Ryan gave her a gentle rub on the head, messing up her thick, brown hair even more then it already was. She only stood about 5 foot 5 inches, and shoved me out of the way and stormed off to the kitchen. I let her stay in my Manhattan apartment, since she doesn't have anywhere else to go.

"The third killing, huh?" Shanna asked. Before this incident, there were two other killings. The first one happened at the Top of the Rock, and then the other at the Statue of Liberty. All three killed the same exact way.

"I'm going to go down there." Ryan said.

"Why would you want to go down there, and I was going to make breakfast."Shanna replied.

I would rather eat at McDonalds, no offense. It's fatty though, but quick and edible." Ryan responded.

"Look, I know how to work a toaster and I know a great pancake recipe!" Shanna snapped back, defending herself.

"Well, remember last time you made 'pancakes'?" Shanna thought back about a month ago when she last used the griddle.

"Ok, I know the building was evacuated." She said, embarrassed to even look at me.

"I still don't know how you mixed up vegetable oil with vinegar, and then the griddle caught on fire! Everyone thought it was toxic, the food and fumes" Ryan said, laughing really hard, "and don't even forget about the toaster incident!"

"No, no, not even thinking about that." Shanna refused.

"How do you not know that your not supposed to put a knife in a hot toaster, then put a buttered waffle back in it!" Ryan yelled. Shanna didn't find it so funny. She really hated how he always made fun of her. She picked up a fork and chucked it at him.

"Whoa! I was only having fun, and remember you don't live here!" He said while running away to a safe place, his room.

While scrambling through his dresser drawers, and closet, to find something warm to wear to go down to the crime scene, all the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up, and he froze. The room got ice cold, so cold, he could see his breath. Huffing and puffing, trying to stay warm, he wondered why the temperature dropped 50 degrees. Seconds later the door slammed shut. Ryan jumped in fear, grabbed his clothes, and ran out the door, opening it first though. Deep and heavy breathing was coming from every which direction he just couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

After he got dressed, he looked in the hallways mirror and saw, in the reflection, a sentence written in blood. Don't be afraid to see who is next. He turned around, but nothing was there. It was just the oatmeal colored wall he painted, himself, about six months ago when he moved in. He continued down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Ryan, these are my best yet. No explosion!" Shanna cheered.

"I'm going to go." Ryan shouted back while grabbing a pancake and running out the front door, slamming it behind him. He didn't want to take the elevator, fearing of what could happen to him, just like in the bedroom. Just thinking about being trapped in there, cold, and hallucinating just ran shivers up his spine. Once Ryan finished running down the steps, he threw the pancake in the trash, in front of the spinning door.

Ryan ran down the sidewalk, pushing and shoving, running into almost every person on it with him. About 10 minutes later, he finally got down to the building. There was already a mob that surrounded the scene at the building. He pushed and shoved, slamming people out of the way. Once he got to the front, he was happy to see Jordan.

"Jordan!" Ryan called for him.

"Good morning, Ryan, come here." Ryan went under the yellow police tape, clumsily tripping over the curb, but finally approached the cop.

Jordan was a bigger man, not in weight, but in strength. He was tough, the best, and most popular cop in all of Manhattan. Even though Jordan is mean, he has a more gentle side to all of his friends. Although, he doesn't treat anyone, no anything, better then his pet bat. Holly, his pet, was strange. She walks more then she fly's, and always has a red tint on her teeth. Even though it's weird, Jordan still loves her, no matter what anyone thinks, does, or says.

"What's up Jordan?" Ryan asked.

"I am trying to figure out what, or who, could be causing all these murders. I have been up all night with Holly, but nothing comes up. There is no lead; not even the FBI has one. It really is really strange. If you want I can show you the victim. Follow me." Jordan explained.

So Ryan followed him. They both slowly walked on the freezing, December morning. We reached the victim. She was lying at the front door, and she was really young, about Ryan's age, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She was stiffly lying on the cold asphalt with the expression of 'Don't hurt me' on her face. Ryan examined the body closely.

"Jordan there is no marks on the body. No bullet holes, beatings, or blood!" Ryan said in shock.

"I know" Jordan smirked, "we are not sure if it was suicidal or not. Well, we are not sure if any of them are suicidal, or homicidal."

"What are you talking about?" Ryan asked in a low calm voice.

"The other two murders are exactly the same. The one at the Top of the Rock, he could of jumped, and the one at the Statue of Liberty, he was found dead ashore. He could've drowned himself. No blood, beatings, nothing. So what else is there?" Jordan explained.

"There is no way the Empire State Building, and the Top of the Rock were suicidal. They would have been crushed by the impact of the fall, just like the people on 9/11, but the one at the Statue of Liberty could've been. I don't know how to explain any of this. It has to be something like, poison." Ryan informed.

He turned around to see a man standing, staring at him. The man was tall, towering 6 foot 2; he was very pale, and he dressed in black form head to foot. Jordan knocked him back into reality, and quickly looked back. Ryan looked at the reflection in the window, but the man wasn't there. He shot back around, and saw him quickly walking away. Ryan slowly went back to the victim, and started examining the body again.

"I don't know, Ryan. You do have a strong point. There has to be some evidence out here. We'll close the perimeters to the public, and send the dogs out for a day." Jordan said, but Ryan wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. He stroked his hands through the women's soft, dark hair, but noticed two small holes, about the sized of screws, on her neck. Ryan got out his camera and took some pictures, about ten, then went home. He pushed back through the crowd. He got about 5 blocks up Broadway Street until he saw the man out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" Ryan yelled across the street. The man started running away. Ryan darted after him, almost getting hit by a taxi. The man ran into a dark, freezing cold alley. It was pitch black with a couple of what looked like eyes in the corners, behind cans, screeching and scratching sounds behind everything. The farther Ryan went, the darker it got. It looked like a black mass dashed past his faces. He crept on, but (what he thought) hallucinating things. There was a door to the left, and he went to open it. His heart stopped, and then he felt something breathing on the back of his neck. 'Get away from here, leave! You don't belong here!' Ryan whipped around.

"Must have been the wind, that talks?" Ryan said to himself, and he ran back out of the alley; back to the people cars, and killings.

2

Ryan stammered through the front door cold, and out of breath. The warm air from the apartment felt good beating into his face. He quickly walked in, but there was an unusual silence. Usually Shanna is getting ready for her class by now.

"Shanna, are you here?" He called, listening closely for even the tiniest sound; nothing. He checked the living room, kitchen, her room; nothing. He opened his bedroom door. A gust of cold air streamed out of his room. He quickly slammed the door shut. He was about to check the bathroom, until he heard the shower running from the other side. 'I guess she's running a little late.' He thought, and walked back into the kitchen/ Since he hasn't eaten anything yet today he raided the cabinets, like someone who was starving for three days, in hope to find something.

"Man, Shanna needs to go to the grocery store." He said. Going to store was one of her few chores; along with cleaning her room, and keeping the floors cleaned. They never had a roach yet, that's how good she is at it. He opened up the last cabinet, and looked behind all the metal pots and pans. Then he found a box of S 'mores pop-tarts, with Shanna written right across the front, sides, and back, and along with every package. He took a pack out and popped them in the toaster.

"Oh, you would." Shanna scowled at me. She was standing in the hallway, in a towel, and slammed her bedroom door shut.

"Don't be surprised of who is next." A low sinister voice said from behind me. Ryan quickly turned around and saw the mysterious man. He was paler then before, and his mouth was flowing, and dripping with blood.

"Who are you, what do you want? How did you get in here?" Ryan shouted question after question demanding to know the answers. He turned to look at the door. All four locks were all locked, same with the windows when he looked there too. The man slowly started walking toward him. Every time he took a step on the ground it made a loud thump, making Ryan's heart fly out of his chest. Ryan was panicking; he didn't know what to do. He reached over to the counter to get a bread knife, and then chucked it at him. The knife flew through the air, but it didn't do much. Because of Ryan shaking so badly it only scraped his arm. Blood, not red but black, started oozing out of his arm, dripping to the floor, intertwining with the red coming from his mouth. He didn't feel it. The man picked the knife back up off the floor, and threw it back two times harder. The knife dug deep into Ryan's skin. He shouted in agony, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. When he opened them back up the man was face to face with him.

"I won't leave until I get the creatures I want!" he hauntingly whispered. His breath was foul, like sour blood, and it was dripping all over Ryan. The blood river coming from his arm was now running down it. His shirt was blood stained, and the smell of it almost made him faint. Shanna walked out of her room, and he ran away in three seconds flat, but she just crossed back over into the bathroom. He sat there, breathing really heavy. Thoughts were coming and leaving his head like, 'Am I next? Who was he? How did he get in here? What does he mean by creature?'

Ryan jumped up and ran into his room, which was now warm, ripped his clothes off, put on fresh pants, and went into the bathroom (not occupied by Shanna anymore) to tend his wound. It was a huge gash; he couldn't even look at it. After he painfully washed it, he wrapped it up and put a shirt on. He took his soiled clothes back into his room, threw them out the window into the dumpster straight below. He ran back into the kitchen to clean up the mess before Shanna saw, but there was no blood.

"That's strange!" Ryan questioned the fact of how it disappeared. He got his pop-tart out, now not even warm, went to the TV, and ate it. He turned on the TV, MTV2, and the show was Runs House. He didn't watch much of it, cause he fell asleep.

***********************

The sound of the pistol being loaded made the way into Ryan's ears. He jumped up off the couch in alarm. 'Don't be surprised by who's next' a shadow holding the gun said. Ryan had no where to go. There were no doors. There was just one little window. Not even a second later the sound of the gun cracked, and the bullet went straight through the window, making shears of glass flying everywhere. Trying not to think of the pain by the small cuts, Ryan ran and found the knife on the ground. The gun had blasted again, just missing him by the ear. He strategized for a second, and thought of a plan that would either strike a hole in his hand, or save him; life or death. He threw the knife straight in the air, slightly right. Another bullet passed his thigh on the left. Ryan caught the knife, on the handle, exactly the way he planned, and lunged it into the shadows chest. It began to manifest itself, into that man that he wished he had never seen again. Black thick blood started squirting out of his chest, onto Ryan's face. The taste of it was incredibly vile. The grossest things he has ever tasted. His tongue started getting hot, then started bubbling. He felt his stomach pumping as fast as his aching heart. 'That venom won't kill you' the man yelled. Ryan got up and ran out the window. Dropping eight stories to his death, but it wasn't the cold, hard cement that broke his fall, he landed in a pool followed by a huge splash. Something bumped into him underwater. He picked it up, and it was the women's head; the women at the Empire State Building. Ryan screamed in fear, watching the blood drip from the neck into the water, not water, blood. There were hundreds of body parts floating in their own pool of blood. Ryan swam out of the blood trying not to puke. Someone helped him out. The man grabbed him by the head, almost breaking his neck, and pulled Ryan real close to his body. He leaned in and-

Ryan screamed at the top of his lungs. Looking around, in the dark, he was in his living room.

"It was only a dream. A bad, bad nightmare!" he said aloud. The TV was still on, but somehow on the news. A reporter said, "Another murder happened at the ice rink in Central Park. Police are now starting to evacuate people out of Manhattan."

"7:00" He screamed when he looked at the clock, "Shanna, are you here?" He jumped up and ran to the phone.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Shanna, where are you?" Ryan asked.

"In time square, doing some shopping; why, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I want you to come home now!" he ordered.

"How come?" she replied.

"There was another murder down in central park. Just come home!"

"Another one" Shanna acted surprised, "alright ill be right home." The phone went dead. Ryan started preparing dinner, but something grabbed his attention coming from his room. He slowly crept down the hall, and cracked open his door. Not even a second later, the door flew open on its on. He peeked into the room, and got shoved the wall. A strong, firm hand held him down, and wasn't planning on letting go.

"Surprised, creature?" it said. His eyes were a deep, dark red, even darker then mine. His teeth were as while as pearls, and he couldn't see anything else. It was too dark. He felt his cold breath, breathing on his neck. It made Ryan's body stiff and frozen, he almost couldn't move. Shanna ran into the room and turned on the light. There was a distinctive growl at her, then a black mass shot out of the, now broken, window.

"Ryan, what was that?" Shanna screamed. He didn't answer. He was shaken in horror, and frozen in total shock. He slapped himself, thinking it was just a dream, but this time it wasn't. It was for real. He knows he's next, but why? He looked around the room, and saw a brown wallet lying on the ground.

"I-I don't know" he stuttered to say, "but call Jordan." Shanna ran to the phone, and came back in the room a couple minutes later handing it to me.

"He wants to talk to you."

"Hello?" Jordan question.

"Jordan" Ryan paused for a short second, "Boy, I cant wait to tell you my day." I held up the wallet in front of my face, eager to find out what was inside.