AN: This is my first attempt on a fanfic story, so hope it isn't too bad as I don't have gotten a beta yet.

And important, this is just an prologue, the first chapter of the story start on the next page ;)


Prologue

It's been a while since the last time I was to be found by these old funnels. I probably wouldn't believe them; if they told me I would be back in just a few days.

Everyone had told me how great I was doing, like an economic graph, going way over the budget. As late as yesterday I heard people talking about how my life was moving along, in a new and sounder direction. Personally, I didn't know if I wanted to believe them, maybe I was just scared. I knew I wasn't strong enough, I was reminded of that every single day; they sure didn't forget.

Right now, I'm weaker and more tired than ever. The pouring rain is penetrating my already wet clothes, making the weight on my shoulders a little heavier than I am capable of handling right now, taken into a count my sickening state. I am not exactly startled by the fact of being all-alone by myself out here.

I can see someone standing, in the far distance, a few feet away from me, on the other side of the pavement. Someone very frightening, but of course I can't tell you why; he just is. The dim light won't give away his scent, so for me he is just another obscure soul, so far, at this moment.

People who knew all the shit I've been through would say I was inure to this feeling; totally void of all emotions. That wasn't exactly true, because if there was one thing I've got too much of, it was senses. Like an over sensible seismograph, reacting to the slightest movement. I was a wreck, that could be said, but no one ever wanted to tell me that, even the ones who knew how aware I was of my very own state.

Nurtured on lies I was. Always told how much better I could do if I'd just tried. None of that was ever true, and the saddest part, I just accept it, that easily.

Back to the other side of the pavement he was still standing, not making the slightest movement. His face was still too dark to be recognizable, since I didn't have the slightest chance in seeing it, but still something told me I was being watched. Like his eyes were seeking for my face, in an attempt of burning me, and haunting my restless soul. Of course I knew it was a stupid thought, since he couldn't possibly hurt me, at least not with just his eyes, and most important at this far distance.

That was the curse of living a half dead life, to be forgotten beside a filthy pavement, in a ditch. You would start to have hallucinations and have problems to determine what's real, or even considered as possible.

So now I was just lying here, waiting for the cold to get me, and led me out of this miserable world.

I was certain that the temperature had lowered since I first came out here, but I couldn't say I was entirely sure. The only assumption I've got was that my body was too cold to feel, and that my violent trembling had briefly stopped, probably a result of my body being too cold to even function. I've looked down at my bare hands, were my skin had wrinkled up and begun to peel off, like an old apple, which had been exposed for too long, outside in the cold night. The sight of it only made me feel even worse and even more disgusted with myself.

For sure it wasn't a pleading sight, not a single bit. I couldn't enjoy the fresh new snow, like children or other youngsters often do, as I watch it with my now tired and dried out eyes. The snow had recently fallen to the ground, clear white crystals, dazzling my already unsteady vision. They usually said that the first snow would signalize a new start, with both hope and compassion. For me it was different, since I've know my time has come, I was certain, or at least I had prepared myself for the end, now in the very last minutes of my life.

Still, in the far distance I could see the obscure figure, which is slowly moving away from me, to leave me alone, like a kid's favorite toy, or doll, which has over the years lost its glory, awaiting the suffocating destiny to be stuffed away, abounded in a dusty corner. As I lay here, in my own darkness, I slowly begin to perceive to the emptiness, which had for so long tried to penetrating the walls I had used my whole life to build. Like a black cloak of perdition the darkness is taking its time to spread around me, carefully, as I finally, after all this time gives up to my other half. The part of me which always pointed out my mistakes, and knew how I one day would give up on everything.

More tired than ever, I just want to give in to this hard and filthy pavement, and send prayers, wishing for everything to just end. My body thought differently, since I am still alive, and not dead. Several times I assured myself that everything soon comes to an end, what a pleading thought.

Twice that night I could once again see the obscure person, only this time he is closer. Or, is he really closer? I wasn't sure, but, I was certain that this other person was drifting slowly towards, me?

I don't know if he was made from my very own imagination, or if he was real at all, but at least I do not think he is nonexistent. He is definitely moving closer to my side of the pavement now, and a small hope is lit up in me, a part of me hoping for the other being to be existent, and real. That this person might - can be the one to save me, even if I already have given up on myself.

The distance between me, and this other is still very far; so can't recognize him and identify his person yet, but I know who I want it to be. If my predictions are right, after all, it won't make him any less frightening. I know that he is either here to save me, or the other; which means he would be the end of my own existent. You know when you get the feeling, the one were your gut is telling you right or wrong? That's the feeling I've got, at this very moment, telling me that something about this other person isn't quite right, independent of who it might be.

Up until now, it had been pretty quiet out here, but as fast and interrupting as the sound of a crying baby, I hear a voice, screaming at me, trembling, like it is in tremendous pain. Limped by fear I can't respond, my body locked like a key in a locker, unable to give an answer, or make any noise for that matter. My voice just stop, even before I manage to get the air out of my throat, as I lay here, now struggling to breathe. I have problems with hearing as well, and I know that my senses get weaker with every passing minute.

My eye vision is the only proper function I've got left, still pretty and clear. I stare towards the other person, concentrating, and trying to decode what he is trying to tell me, what the screams means. Of course I can't comprehend to anything now, of what the voice is saying, as my brain is incapable of doing serious calculations at this moment.

I gathered all the strength I've got, trying to raise my body in a somewhat standing position, and walking with halts toward this other person. I don't know if it is a lucky chance or not, but the other person is not flinching as I moves closer, slowly. Then my body comes to a sudden stop. Locking once again, as I am pine frozen to the spot, my legs not allowing me to move any closer.

Still no chance in seeing his face, but I never in my whole life had hoped to be more wrong. For now I know who it is, and no, I am not wrong, of course I am not, it can't be anyone else. I'm not afraid of him in general, and have never before been, and of course I would gladly meat him on any other regular day, just not know, not in this state. I know he is not himself; I know that, he is something else, something much more frightening.

I really don't know why I do it, but my voice hushing his name in a silent whisper, low, to attest that it really is him. There is no doubt in me, he heard my voice, because he is real, and has been this whole night.

I close my eyes, hoping for this nightmare to be over soon, but when I open them he is still there. Only now his face is just inches away from mine, breathing his cold breath at me, in my clammy and sweaty face. His breath is slowly filling me, sending several razors down my throat, and I am feeling for the first time this night. Not a good feeling, but a feeling of agonizing pain.

I feel sick, wanting to vomit, scream, as I look upon his damaged face. But my mouth keep shut, as I feel an itching prick of an invisible needle; sewing my mouth together, much like the stitched mouth in front of me. His eyes aren't as bright as I remembered them, but rather dull and sunken into his now burned and suppurating face. I know this can't be real, or at least I won't admit it.

In blind fear, I try to run, but my legs are too tired, too heavy to hold me up any longer. Probably I used all the power this body had left to offer, when I walked towards this monster. My feet were now collapsing under me, and I fell harshly to the wet ground beneath me. I slowly turn around, one last time, to look up at the once familiar, but now distorted face. Looking down at me, like a fallen angel watching over me with lusterless eyes, sneering, to tell me the story of my measly death. The saddest part is that I give in so easily to him, as my eyelids fall heavy down, to give my eyes rest, as my last breath leaves my body, and all my vitality is taken away from me.

I don't lie when I say I'm afraid of what he might do to me, but my body does not seem to care, as it starts the process of shutting down. I know now that the scream I heard didn't come from him, as I hear his voice call out my name soothingly, as the last thing I hear, before I completely give in, and his dead cold hand gripping harshly around my limp shoulder.


So would love to hear what you guys think.

If you like my story, favorite it or follow it, well that really warms my heart. But if you really want to help me as a writer and encouraging me to bring this story back to life please let me know in a review :)

So up next is chapter 1, enjoy :D