The alleyway was dark and cold, the tepid light from a nearby streetlamp collecting in the pools of stagnant water. The brick was rough, the reddish color barely masking the faint traces of blood.

She crouched down by some rubbish heaps, shivering. Her eyes were red, her knuckles white as she clutched her thin, scratched arms to herself. She breathed with difficulty, her teeth chattering.

Something moved in the dark recesses of the alley.

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She forced her weakened body to remain perfectly still. She couldn't let him find her again.

Four steps on the wet pavement.

She shut her eyes, fighting back a whimper.

Four more steps. Closer and closer.

She tightened her hold on her mouth as a dark figure came into view.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum," the figure said in a low, smooth tone.

Her eyes widened.

"I smell the blood of an young woman…" the man continued, sibilant and dark.

She shrunk against the wall as quietly as she could, the man's hulking figure slowly lurching down the alley, dragging a metal bat behind him.

The man stopped near her, taking in a deep breath of the dank air. "Be she alive, or be she dead."

Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. The scream was now a lump in her throat.

The man slammed the bat on one of the rubbish bins. Suddenly, all that she could see was his grinning face as he stared at her, his eyes bloodshot, his face glistening with sweat.

He scraped the bat along the ground. "I'll have her bones to grind my bread," he whispered.

She screamed. And screamed. And then screamed no more.