Dorado woke up in his bunk.
Gotta pee.
When he finished his business, he found it hard to sleep again.
Dammet.
He looked up to the clock on the wall.
Ah fuck, it was too dark in here to even se it.
Dorado stood and padded in bare feet to the communal desk and groped around for a light.
He grabbed one and flashed his eyes, temporarily blinding him.Trying not to mutter 'Shitfuck' under his breath, he squinted at the displayed time on the wall.
Past midnight.
He glanced behind him at his warm bed.
It was either lay and stare at Marco's mattress all night or get the hell outta here.
He'd gotten past the iron bars before, even with his bulldog frame.
'Windows were barred to prevent stupidity after hours,' Explained the dorm master, Freshman year.
Dorado pulled a pair of sweatpants on and rummaged on the floor for a shirt.
This one's his, no need to think about that.
He had a sudden bad feeling in his gut as he struggled into the grey Calvin Klein hoodie.
Aw shit, here we go again.
Dorado ignored it. The funny feelings usually meant something stupid, like tripping on a rock in front of Marco's girlfriend or dropping a phone. Except that one time when his father went out for a business trip and on his way to the airport was hit by a truck.
Luckily no injuries past a broken arm and a trashed Porche, but it was still enough for young Dorado to flip his shit.
People still didn't believe the feelings though, and Dorado had just learned to accept them as another part of life and used the more helpful visions...
...Dorado was on his feet and in the streets.
Jog time?
He wished.
But the feeling was getting bigger and spreading.
Dorado closed his eyes as a car went past.
No, not them.
The occupants were heading home from a late shift at Wal-Mart.
They had no interest in an unchaperoned Junior wandering the midnight streets.
He kept his eyelids shut lightly, hearing.
And seeing.
Seeing like a cat.
He could hear faint cracking and snapping, something predatory like a feline sneaking in the woods near his family home in Texas.
And the smell of metal and workshoppish, like a garage or St. Bernard's workshop.
'Okay, now I'm just curious!' He thought to himself wuth a bemused smile curling on his lips. Dorado decided to mosey along.
It wasn't like he could do his usual jog though, that funny feeling was making him too shaky as he kept walking down the street.
Aw crap, left his headphones in the dorm.
To fill the hissing silence, Dorado started to absently hum a song of Troubadours.
CRUNCH!
Dorado nearly jumped out of his sneakers at the sound of crushed metal.
More crunching and snapping soon followed, and that nervous feeling came back as the smell grew stronger.
Dorado slowed to a halt and saw the alleyway.
An absolute void.
He stepped forward, neck craning, ears perked.
Not here.
But this was a good place to hide as his skin crawled, to see the climax of the event.
More crunching and snapping soon followed.
Then, utter silence.
Dorado's stomach flipped in fear, then the feelings died down.
Was that it?
Could he just move along with his night?
No, it wasn't.
He could hear mechanical breathing around his rising heart rate. He usually enjoyed that sound, especially after a good workout, but right now, it made him shakey.
He moved forward in the alley and heard a few thumping footsteps and some creaking of an indignant automobile.
Dorado's dark eyes widened.
In the dim street light there was a car.
A little blue Camero owned by some random person.
And on that car sitting under the streetlamp was the most terrifying and disgusting creature he'd ever seen.
