Fall of 1999- London, England
In the night-come of England clocks of various kinds soundlessly ticked to midnight as many things seem to happen in each part of the city that meant nothing to others.
Like children sleeping in their dreams of wonderland or maybe the fears of their own nightmares, protected in their warm beds as they slept in bliss or fear. Or maybe even a defenseless person cowering in a corner to avoid another night of abuse to the ringing laughter of another as they watched the new comedy shining through upon their TV.
But then…these are things in homes, what about the outside world?
Like friends giggling and gossiping as they strolled through the streets to their own destination in mind, to the strong possibility of a pathetic drunk stumbling out of a bar because he had a bad day at work and drowned himself to the numb feeling of alcohol.
It could even be that there is a passerby not knowing of someone getting robbed or raped surely not even a block away from where they are without a care in their own blissful and un-predicting or boring world.
Humans, despite the sayings of 'this' or 'that' about morality, in the end the thought never means anything to them as they continued to live their moment as they pleased. It could even be said that the phrase "Do as I say, not as I do" was the truth of human actions when it came to the desire of making the world better.
Maybe, if they did care enough to look past their own little protective box, one of them would have noticed the crimson blood splattered in the cracks of the dark alleyways seeming to seep into the black corners of every angle.
This inky liquid seemed to trail around and then back to a lone silhouetted figure jumping gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, quietly, like a ghostly apparition.
This figure was lean, mossy hair curling like an ocean wave till it brushed around the crook of their neck, and damaged to the point they were grinding their teeth to not make a sound. It was an obvious male figure, instinct telling him to keep running or be captured by what had injured him so severely this beautiful and cool night.
He already knew he was being persecuted with complete certainty. He wanted nothing more than to escape from the vile desires emanating all around him, almost as if trying to suffocate him to the very brim with intense fear.
He felt his body growing heavier with each weak spell swimming at him forcibly when he moved too quickly. Groaning agitatedly when his eyesight began to waver suddenly.
He was slowly fading into the blurring world of unconsciousness- but he didn't want to give up now, not here when he had done so much to continue living so long ago!
I-I…don't want to…! He desperately thought, noticing how the nightly shadows once possessing their rightful place were now beginning to move unnaturally after him.
Suddenly, as if controlled with new life, the shadows of darkness shot forward. The battered figure grunted pitifully as he flipped into the air to avoid the collision of inky black crashing into the spot he once stood before.
He could easily see, in his parallel vision where he glided through the air, glowing crimson orbs gazing up at him from below.
It was like it took up everything in its wake. It left nothing untouched by the tainted feelings as it spread and spread to every direction. Only deep red eyes left to flutter awake within, and seeming to glow like the flicker of a flame or maybe the red warmth of fresh blood spilling from a lifeless body.
He cursed the way his body wouldn't respond to him anymore, gravity beginning to force its way on the weak and battered male falling, skull first, into the endless darkness.
It…slithered around itself like bodies of snakes coiling over the other, the black seeming to appear like it was opening itself for deeper nothing- just for him.
Almost as if it was grinning in anxious wait for the minute he would be in its grasp and eaten to the very bone…to the very core of his existence that would fill the endless void within the flashing and waiting crimson orbs below.
But the young male wanted to live though; he truly wanted to continue living even if he could do nothing left as his eyes began to flutter closed much to his disdain.
Suddenly, as if the heavens above or maybe even cruel fate had decided to give him another chance he suddenly heard a voice. It was a musical voice that whispered into his ears, drifting through the wind.
Maybe he was cracking and slipping under the pressure of ultimate death, but he didn't know. All he did know was that he didn't want to let go. He wanted the voice to wrap around him like a single, thin, thread just waiting for him to grab.
He didn't want to fade; he realized that with great vigor as he felt the rush of wind rustling the waves of his hair.
At that moment, he made his decision when the voice seemed to ring and want to envelop him to a better place than where he was now. He made his decision as he was then finally consumed into the darkness of his own thoughts. Fading until his very last desire slithered into a silent nothing of his existence.
…I don't want to die…