I leaned against the wall and sighed. I could hear the throbbing from inside the nightclub, and the sound of raucous laughter from around the corner. It was dark. For some reason, this crevice of the city was very poorly lit, despite the large network of alleyways that could easily be confused from the main street. I looked at my watch and sighed again – it was only half eleven, and I was bored already. For some reason, the party animal in me had died, and instead of looking forward to having a couple of drinks and a dance, I found myself feeling compelled to play the mother figure for my drunk friend.
'Harllleeyyyyy?! Come back innnn! I found you a guy!' A high pitched voice wailed from the door of the club.
'I'll just be a minute – you go back in,' I waited for the uneven clatter of her high heels to recede, and blew out a stream of mist from my lungs. Jeez, it was cold. I stared at the pavement whilst I rubbed my arms frantically; willing the goosebumps to go away, yet not ready to return to the warmth of the alcoholic fumes inside. When I looked up, a face was watching me from across the street. I blinked, and then squinted; the man was wearing some sort of face paint. He was painted white with black eyes and a huge red smile. No, it wasn't really a smile. More of a mad grin. Not even that – I was perplexed. I watched curiously as his purple coat flapped in the wind, and noted the air of power as he turned his broad shoulders towards the darkness of Mews Alley.
I battled with myself for a moment. Did I follow him or not? He had clearly seen me, but from what I had seen of him, he didn't strike me as the kind of guy you'd want to get to know in a dark alleyway.
'Aww fuck it.' I murmured under my breath. The shine on my leather pants dimmed as I left the light of the club, and soon I was relying on my limited night vision to determine which way he had gone. After having walked for a couple of minutes, I stopped and looked around at the junction between the four high-rise buildings. I hadn't even known there were so many passages in this area. I checked my watch again. 11:45. I peered down each alley in turn and promptly decided that I should really get back to Jessica. Sighing once more, I spun around and started back, only to walk straight into a gloved hand. Gasping, I found myself face to face with him. I hadn't been entirely correct about his face – the 'smile' hadn't just been painted on, but was raised with scar tissue - the result of a horrific mutilation. He flicked his gaze down over my body and then regained eye contact, sending a shiver down my spine.
'Hi,' he said, drawing the word out, almost apologetically. I watched his face contort as he moved the crowbar powerfully through the air towards my head.
Blackness.