Little bit shorter than the last chapter.
Chapter Two: in which there's a great deal of unfamiliar streets, misgivings, and alleyways.
"Good Intentions?"
He had moved more swiftly than what seemed possible- I felt a bit self conscious, walking back down the street I had just traversed, especially when he was gazing at me so intently from the curb. I knew it was silly though- it was the dead of night. Upon reaching him, he grasped me with his claw again, and we were off. He shambled and walked with a pronounced limp, but made progress quickly; it may have been due more to his mass of rags impeding movement rather than some mystery injury.
His grip was somewhat painful on my wrist, and I had to adopt his shuffling gait in order to keep up and to lessen the pain. He dragged me down the block, and then onto another that I didn’t recognize. I knew the area quite well, yet it wasn’t familiar. There were less homeless people on the streets, and the stores were often interrupted by dingy apartments, squished and seemingly misshapen. Everything always looked different at night though, at least if it wasn’t on my walk home from work. He pulled and pulled and I followed, curious as to what he might be bringing me to. It wasn’t until the third block, when he pulled me off to a darker street and then into an alleyway, that my curiosity somewhat dimmed.
I was starting to suspect that perhaps this homeless man had other ideas that I’d first thought. I couldn’t help but scold myself for being this stupid, for not realizing it at the beginning. Damn my curiosity. How could I allow myself into this situation?
The offshoot of the street he pulled me down far from helped my newborn qualms; especially when it was this dark and isolated. I could see even less than on my flat’s street. I made a decision: I would make at least one attempt at untangling myself from this situation, even though it seemed far too late.
“You know, I think that maybe I don’t really need it after all.” My voice sounded so much smaller than I’d meant it to. It felt almost like the dark had eaten it.
He didn’t respond. I hoped that he wasn’t ignoring me. Maybe he just didn’t hear me? I prepared myself to raise my voice above that squeak that came out last time.
“Maybe I don’t-” My words died altogether as he suddenly whirled towards me, jerking my wrist towards him without actually ever loosening his grip. Backlit, I could see a little of his face when he turned to me. His eyes glittered again. His face was grizzled, old and grey and gnarled; some of the cloth had fallen astray when he moved so quickly.
“Then you really must not know what it is you’re looking for. Pity. It will make this all the more difficult.” He leered at me, grin twisted and gross. There was a gap in his teeth to the right, a distracting hole of darkness in his uncomfortable smile. It made it so much worse, that niggling sense of evil in his expression.
Good intentions on his part were no longer a possibility; there was only malice in that smile. There was not even a hint of insanity; there was only pure, simple malice. It was so much more terrifying. A decision was made, through no rationality of mine, but an impulse decided by the fear inside, roaring its head, sick of the darkness and creepy old homeless men’s smiles. Suddenly, I twisted my arm as hard as I could, pulled and pushed in a desperate attempt for freedom. Yet, his iron grip didn’t break, didn’t even seem to tighten in order to keep it. I didn’t understand it. But I felt more helpless than ever. I pulled, tugged, twisted my body as much as I could. He seemed to only watch and patiently wait for me to stop. I struggled as long as I could, and finally came to a slow stop, panting.
I would just have to wait for a moment of weakness. The instant his hold even slackened, I would be streaking down the street.
He smiled again, somewhat kindly this time.
“That’s better.”
As he began to walk again, I wasn’t entirely sure that his grip would get any looser.
I'll be off to the next. XD
