A darkened mysterious figure rose from the dirt in the alleyway. He
pulled his tattered brown scarf around his neck and looked up at his
target. Around thirty feet away, a collage girl exited from a window onto a
rusted fire escape. She quietly ran down the stairs, a creak slipping at
most of the platforms. She jumped off the side at the last ten feet and
fell from her feet. She stood again and brushed herself off. An eerie
feeling crept up her spine and she turned around to see if anyone had
noticed her. She looked to the sky, seeing a dark clouded sky highlighted
with a faint yellow-brown hew that the streetlights in parking lots
emitted. Partially assured that she wasn't being followed, she walked
quickly out of the ally and onto the sidewalk. She passed by many tenements
and apartment projects that she had known forever.
The figure kept her in sight, walking slowly and avoiding light. He crawled up the brick side of one of the tenements, his shaggy scarf trailing behind. He tilted his head around the corner of the building, nearly loosing his hat, but catching it before it fell. His body was sideways on the wall, his shoes and gloved hands sticking to the wall like glue. He receded and continued to a perch atop the building.
She continued, completely oblivious to her stalker. She stopped under one of the infrequent streetlights; most had been smashed or torn apart. One dangled a half of a foot on the lazy wires that held it to the post, shifting in the wind, threatening to fall. She once again looked around in the paranoia that night brings. Her golden brown hair complimented her skin as it flashed in the dim light. Her denim jacket and low cut matching jeans clashed with her bright pink tank top, and looked strange and out of place in the dingy streets of the projects. The figure had still followed, jumping over to the next building and peering over the side. He narrowed his eyes to look at her, and then ducked down as her eyes swayed in his direction. She started to breath hard with fear and bolted down the street and around the left corner, smashing into a wall of muscle and falling backwards.
The man she ran into looked down in a drunken glazed expression, which quickly turned to lust. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the broken pavement of an alley, forcing her to cry out. He threw his arms around her and pulled her over his shoulder, she kicking and screaming in fear and rage. The figure looked around from his cornered perch to see what was happening. He saw the girl dragged out into darkness and her coat being torn off. His eyes widened and narrowed in shock and anger. His froglike stance was broken by the sound of her cry; he hopped to the side a little and dangled his scarf over the man below who was busy trying to tear the shirt off of the 21 year old. She struggled and screamed, and he backhanded her face to the ground. He pulled out a razor blade and began to sever the cotton shirt. The figure dropped the scarf on top of the drunken man, the scarf catching into his hair and around his arms like a spiders web. He tried to brush it off, seeing is as an aggravation at first, but then seeing that it wouldn't leave, the aggravation turned into panic, and that into fear, to the point where in less than a minute, he had dropped the razor, having left his job incomplete, and struggled with the scarf, entangling himself more and more by the minute.
The figure looked down at the struggling drunk and almost laughed. The girl began to rise from her fallen position and crawl away. Her shoulder blade was bleeding from a gash that led around the bone. The man still twisted and struggled, but finally ripped the webbed scarf off of his face. It was only a second before he pulled the rest off. He dragged the girl back by her foot and picked her up, struggling with her once, then pulling her up to her feet and wrapping a forearm under her jaw. The figure dropped down against the wall, seeing that the girl was once again in trouble. He landed silently. The drunkard whispered words of reassuring despair into her ear. The figure took advantage of the man's turned back and pulled a bokken from his sash, wielding it in his right and left hands. He pulled it over his shoulder and slashed with the wooden sword at the back of the attacker's neck, throwing him across the darkened alley and into the wall; unconscious. The girl screamed, falling to the ground, the figure reached down and pulled her up by her hands, still screaming in panic. He picked up her coat, keeping her wrist in his, not heading to the bashing of her other fist against his hand. Brushing her coat up against her hand, she started to stop her cries for help. After a few seconds, she accepted the coat. He nodded to her and took a step back, letting her hand go. She advanced to him, feeling in the dark to find him, but he was nowhere to be found.
She turned again and walked out of the alley. A noise startled her and pushed her to a run.
The figure kept her in sight, walking slowly and avoiding light. He crawled up the brick side of one of the tenements, his shaggy scarf trailing behind. He tilted his head around the corner of the building, nearly loosing his hat, but catching it before it fell. His body was sideways on the wall, his shoes and gloved hands sticking to the wall like glue. He receded and continued to a perch atop the building.
She continued, completely oblivious to her stalker. She stopped under one of the infrequent streetlights; most had been smashed or torn apart. One dangled a half of a foot on the lazy wires that held it to the post, shifting in the wind, threatening to fall. She once again looked around in the paranoia that night brings. Her golden brown hair complimented her skin as it flashed in the dim light. Her denim jacket and low cut matching jeans clashed with her bright pink tank top, and looked strange and out of place in the dingy streets of the projects. The figure had still followed, jumping over to the next building and peering over the side. He narrowed his eyes to look at her, and then ducked down as her eyes swayed in his direction. She started to breath hard with fear and bolted down the street and around the left corner, smashing into a wall of muscle and falling backwards.
The man she ran into looked down in a drunken glazed expression, which quickly turned to lust. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the broken pavement of an alley, forcing her to cry out. He threw his arms around her and pulled her over his shoulder, she kicking and screaming in fear and rage. The figure looked around from his cornered perch to see what was happening. He saw the girl dragged out into darkness and her coat being torn off. His eyes widened and narrowed in shock and anger. His froglike stance was broken by the sound of her cry; he hopped to the side a little and dangled his scarf over the man below who was busy trying to tear the shirt off of the 21 year old. She struggled and screamed, and he backhanded her face to the ground. He pulled out a razor blade and began to sever the cotton shirt. The figure dropped the scarf on top of the drunken man, the scarf catching into his hair and around his arms like a spiders web. He tried to brush it off, seeing is as an aggravation at first, but then seeing that it wouldn't leave, the aggravation turned into panic, and that into fear, to the point where in less than a minute, he had dropped the razor, having left his job incomplete, and struggled with the scarf, entangling himself more and more by the minute.
The figure looked down at the struggling drunk and almost laughed. The girl began to rise from her fallen position and crawl away. Her shoulder blade was bleeding from a gash that led around the bone. The man still twisted and struggled, but finally ripped the webbed scarf off of his face. It was only a second before he pulled the rest off. He dragged the girl back by her foot and picked her up, struggling with her once, then pulling her up to her feet and wrapping a forearm under her jaw. The figure dropped down against the wall, seeing that the girl was once again in trouble. He landed silently. The drunkard whispered words of reassuring despair into her ear. The figure took advantage of the man's turned back and pulled a bokken from his sash, wielding it in his right and left hands. He pulled it over his shoulder and slashed with the wooden sword at the back of the attacker's neck, throwing him across the darkened alley and into the wall; unconscious. The girl screamed, falling to the ground, the figure reached down and pulled her up by her hands, still screaming in panic. He picked up her coat, keeping her wrist in his, not heading to the bashing of her other fist against his hand. Brushing her coat up against her hand, she started to stop her cries for help. After a few seconds, she accepted the coat. He nodded to her and took a step back, letting her hand go. She advanced to him, feeling in the dark to find him, but he was nowhere to be found.
She turned again and walked out of the alley. A noise startled her and pushed her to a run.