Adrien stamped on the pedals of his bike. It was late, too late. His parents won't be happy. They agreed that he would be back at nine from the party of Nino. But you easily forget about those kinds of agreements, if you had fun. Especially if all the others had to be home at ten. He did lose track of time, a bit. Well, not a bit, a lot. Actually he had avoided thinking about it on purpose, the moment the clock said nine o'clock. It was already too late by then. So, he decided that he wouldn't look at the clock again.

Now, when he was trying to break his record of going home by bike, he did look at the clock. In the distance you could see the church tower as an admonishing finger over the houses. The luminous small pointer stood unshakeable on the ten. The big pointer was firmly on the one and teasingly jumped one minute further. Six minutes over ten! Adrien started to sweat. More than an hour late at home. They would be furious.

If I can make a wish right now, I would wish a time machine, he thought. Then he could travel an hour back in time and step into the living room at nine. Stupid things, actually! Sometimes it was like his parents were only there to make things harder for him. Don't do this! Don't do that. Don't come home too late! Adrien knew for sure that the other kids had it much better than him. And they are probably also getting an allowance.

For the time being, he could forget going to parties. Unless he can sneak into the house and slip unseen to his bedroom. Pretend like he had been in his room for the last hour. Maybe, if his parents had fallen asleep in front of the TV. A chance of one in a million. His parents were watching a lot of TV these last few days. Often until deep into the night, without sleeping.

I wish they would immigrate, Adrien thought. To Australia or something. Then I would live here on my own. You can count on it that I would have lots of fun then!

He kicked even harder. It was a special quiet night. It looked like everyone in the city was already asleep. No car seen. That made a difference. He could make cross intersections, cut roads, riding over the sidewalk, there were no late night walkers either. There was a bleak wind. It was cold, but Adrien didn't notice it at all. The sweat was rolling down his back. His legs were very heavy. Suddenly, a black van appeared around the corner. He put his fist in the air.

"Can't you watch where you drive, idiot!" He shouted. Apparently the driver heard him, 'cause the van stopped with a screech. Adrien's heart beated faster, like a clock running wild. Fuck, he should have just shut his big mouth. The van looked like it came straight from hell. It was an old and old thing, where the sides of the van were painted with skulls that were on fire and lightning rays. The driver probably wasn't a sweet person. For a moment the van just stood there with a popping and growling exhaust. The side window was turned open. A patch of rock music blew outside. The van then drove backwards. Adrien didn't wait for it to come.

He shot in a side street, turned right twice and came back into the main street. The black van was nowhere in sight. He could go home quietly. His heartbeat calmed down, slowly. The church was now completely seen through the houses. A giant, massif building, that darkly stood out against the sky. The pointers were meanwhile already on ten over ten. The church was no longer in use, because everyone would rather watch TV, but the clock was still working as if it was new. Adrien groaned. He would arrive at home at least ten minutes before nine thirty.

In the shadow of the church, there was a market square. In the day it was hell to go through there. Screaming market traders, crowded stalls, thousands of people with shopping bags. Now it was curiously quiet. There were a lot of cars parked in the street, like there was some kind of party. Adrien stopped kicking and let the bike glide on his own. Catching his breath. Newspapers and other kinds of paper flew across the square. Now there's just bald, wooden frames, quiet shadows from battens and planks in the moonlight.

Adrien suddenly saw that something moved, like the shadows of the square came to life. He blinked. There was something hidden between the stalls, dark shapes, blacker than the shadows. Animals? Or were they just pieces of sail that blew into the wind? Adrien looked at it while he had less speed on his bike. And he finally stood still. Curiously he looked at the square. Something like that, he had never seen it before. The dark shapes under the stalls were actually moving. And there were more and more, like they let go of the shadows from the church. He saw them gliding over the boulders. Dark shapes that silently moved. A pact of stray cats, maybe? No, they were bigger than that. Much bigger. It looked like people were crouched down under the stalls. The hairs on Adrien's back stood upright. The sweat on his back suddenly felt extremely cold. He looked around. The street was empty. Why are there so many cars here? He thought. And where were the drivers? In the distance there was the dying sound of a motor. Silence.

He took another look at the square. The shadow shapes were starting to crawl closer. They crawled from stall to stall. They were still far away, but they crawled in a direction. Eyes lit up in the dark. There was something else. Next to the rustling of paper, he heard whispers. Whispering voices, that were carried over the square by the wind. Human voices, but not really human. His curiosity turned into fear. Get out of here. And quickly. He jumped onto his saddle and stood on the pedals. The whispers got louder, like the buzz of a swarm of bees, but Adrien didn't look back. He was sure the voices were talking about him. They - or whatever it was - lurked to him. He kicked as hard as he could. His heart was beating like crazy. Don't look back. Because of the cold and cutting wind, tears started to form at the end of his eyes, but he didn't have time to wipe them away. The square was now behind him, but he could still hear the whispers. Or was it just the wind?

Flap! Something flew onto his face. A sticky paper wrap, that stayed on his nose. Only after three streets he let his hand leave the handlebar and pulled the wrap off of his face. The whispering voices were gone. He was on a trusted terrain. The streets of his own residential area. The friendly lights of the street lanterns. Vague shapes of known people behind the windows. His heart was beating a little easier. Adrien sighed in relief. Everywhere were the lights of the Television screens in the living rooms. Where the TV was on, you were safe. There were normal people there. Suddenly his fear looked childish and extravagant. Without his hands on the handlebar he let himself glide over the street, while he took a look at the wrapping that had hit him earlier. It was a wrapping of a licorice. HAWK-LICORICE, it was called, above an image of a pointy werewolf's head. Adrien threw the wrapper away. Like a night butterfly it danced away on the wind.

Adrien stepped off of his bike and pushed his bike on the garden path. He paused for a moment to take a look at the window of the living room. Through the curtains he saw the flickering glow of the TV. He put his bike against the shed and sneaked on his tiptoes to the back door. There was no light in the kitchen. Now the trick was to enter unseen and sneak to his room. Just maybe, he would be able to pull that off. If he was very careful. If not, then a flat tire was his last resort. A weak excuse, of course, but he couldn't think of something else on the spot.

Shit! The tire has to be flat for real though, Adrien thought. He quickly sneaks back to his bike and turns the valve open and lets the air out.

"That's that," He mumbled. If they would look, they would at least find a flat tire. But first, trying to get into his house without his parents knowing. If that would work, there would be no foul air and he just had to get up early to pump up his tire. He sneaked to the back door. The gravel under his feet creaked and for a moment, Adrien stopped moving. He could feel his heart back in his throat. Did they hear that? Forgotten were the whispering voices and the dark shapes on the square. He stretched his hand to the doorknob.

But at that moment, the whisper of leaves was heard and something grabbed his shoulder from behind.