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Damien’s POV:

I watched the girl under the bridge, noting how filthy she looked. Even with her lemon blonde hair, she could practically pass for a brunette now, given the amount of dirt and dust caught up in it. Her skin looked bruised, from where I could see, no doubt from fighting with the occasional drunk criminal on the streets. The child huddled into one of the corners of the bridge’s structure, clearly trying to protect herself from the incoming cold of the evening. I wanted to pity her, but at the same time, she simply wouldn’t accept my help. So in a way, it was partially her fault.

The blasted girl was practically dictated by her emotions, and it made reasoning with her so much harder than it should be. They ruled over her like tyrants who forced her to turn a blind eye to logic. I mean yes, we’ve had our fair share of fights before, but that was so long ago. Did it even matter anymore? I was only trying to help her.

I crept closer to the bridge, careful to not make my presence known just yet. My shoes couldn’t make a sound due to my nimble steps, even though the ground was covered in loose gravel. My red coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, and I clutched against my waist. Granted, bright colors aren’t the best thing to wear when stalking someone, but it was no matter. I planned to make my presence known anyway.

A few moments later, there was only a thin stone wall that separated the girl from me. I could easily reach right around it, grasp onto her shoulder, and drag her away, of course, but this wasn’t the time for that. I needed to assess how she had fared on the streets, specifically her mind. I could easily kidnap her, but when a child comes to you willingly, it’s much more satisfying.

I could hear her soft breathing, and strangely, I began to hear strange mumbles mixed in with it as well. Were they words? I leaned my head closer against the wall, and affirmed my suspicions. She seemed to be counting, and I could hear the distinct clinking of coins. I smiled, and shook my head. How did she expect to live life off of street change?

The girl suddenly became quiet, and my breath hitched. Did she know I was there? I stood as still as a statue, hoping she wouldn’t make the effort to simply crane her neck from behind the wall. If she had, I would be right in plain sight. Though to be honest, the thought didn’t really bother me too much. The only thing ruined would be my spying behind the cold stone wall, and nothing else. She was wasn’t much against me in terms of danger, after all.

I let out a breath in a mixture of relief and disappointment as I began to hear her resume her counting the street money she’d no doubt picked off of sidewalks, as if seen many of the homeless do. Yes, I didn’t want to make myself known just yet, but it was also quite a let down. Taking a look behind the wall would be an intelligent thing to do, and if I were to take someone under my wing, I would rather they be of a high intellect. Oh, well. I supposed I’d have to teach her survival skills later.

“I know you’re there,” she spoke softly from behind the wall.

It seems I may have misjudged her.

Thinking it useless to stay in my position any longer, I stood up and walked right around the wall, with my back straight and an aura of regality following my figure. A king is a king no matter where he is, after all.

“Go away,” she groaned at me. I grinned internally. Even with all the grueling time on the streets, she still finds the nerve to hate me. It was wonderful energy, but it just wasn’t adjusted in the right direction.

“And leave you here, all alone?” I asked. “Josephine, be reasonable. You’re counting on coins to keep you alive. Coins that-“ I glanced at the small amount of change “-are barely enough to do the job.”

I saw something that looked like utter despair quickly cloud her grey eyes, but I wasn’t so sure if it really was. It just wasn’t like her. She’d always find a way to retaliate.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, the brief flash of sadness in her eyes suddenly gone. “I’m doing great. Fuck off.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, annoyed by her attitude. She’d treated someone with good intentions like just another beggar, and I wouldn’t stand for it. It was unreasonable that she only wanted me to leave. Her language rubbed me the wrong way as well, as I’m sure it was intended to do. As an adult far older than her, I could swear her under the table and leave her absolutely speechless. It was unnecessary, though, and it would only push her further away from me. An outcome I certainly didn’t want.

“Are you really doing well?” I asked her, raising a brow. “Physically, you look terrible.”

“Yeah well, you always look terrible.”

“This isn’t the time, Josephine.”

She collected the coins off the ground and stuffed them into the side pocket of the mud stained backpack that lay by her side. I lowered my brow, but remained intrigued. Was she actually coming with me?

“What are you doing?” I asked her, watching her sling the backpack over he shoulder and stand up. Josephine brushed her filthy blonde hair to the side, and reached into it, seemingly fishing around for something. I stared, but mentally prepared myself for an attack. She could be a very unpredictable girl at times.

Then, as if someone hit a switch in her mind, Josephine stopped. She gave me a wary glance, and closed the backpack. I frowned. Not only was she not answering my questions, but she was acting like someone had erased her thoughts on whim. I snatched the backpack from her, not taking silence for an answer.

“Hey!” she yelped, trying to yank it back from me. After pushing her away, I stuffed my hand into the backpack and shifted my hands to find whatever she had been searching for. Amidst what felt like papers, plastic bags, and God knows what else, I gripped the plastic handle of a familiar object. Familiar and dangerous, if I wasn’t wrong.

I lifted my hand out of the darkness of the backpack, and found myself holding a serrated knife with a five inch blade. It didn’t look like anything special, and resembled an ordinary kitchen knife. Still, her hidden intentions came into light. Apparently, stabbing me was a supposed solution to her problems.

Unacceptable.

“Is this what you were reaching for?” I asked Josephine, seeing her back away. She hit the wall, and had no more room to move anymore backwards. “You thought a sneak attack would get rid of me?”

“I didn’t actually hurt you,” she quickly replied. I could hear her voice quiver in what I hoped was fear. Good. It would teach her a lesson.

“Nonetheless, you thought it would actually work.” I chided her. “Even under the impossible circumstances that you would have killed me, what would you do then? You’d have blood on your hands, and have every judge in the country after you. You’d live in jail for the rest of your life, and all for one bad decision. Not to mention, you don’t even know HOW to kill someone properly.”

My speech made her skin pale, but confusion spread upon her face at my last sentence. I dropped the backpack to the floor and continued nonetheless.

“You don’t know how to go through with it.” I explained, still miffed by her subtle plot against me. Who was she to go against someone like me? “Stabbing people isn’t the easiest way to kill a person, no matter what any book or movie might show you. Whatever you might have watched or read might make murder seem easy, but I assure you, it’s not. You need a strong body and psyche to get through it without damaging yourself. And what about the forensic evidence? You’re just going to get yourself caught? Why won’t you think ahead? Have some planning skills, for God’s sake.”

She seemed dazed while listening to my speech, so to bring her attention back, I snapped my fingers. She perked up immediately.

“Don’t you dare zone out!” I chided her.

I realized that talking wouldn’t do much of anything at this point, and that it was also getting much darker outside. The evening had already arrived, and if I wasted any more time, it would be night before I could get her to leave if I wasted my time. I sighed, and gripped the knife-still in my hand-a little tighter.

Josephine’s eyes widened as I advanced towards her. Before she could let out a scream, I clamped a hand over her mouth, pressing her head against the wall. She punched and kicked me, but the pain didn’t register much. For someone who’d lived in the streets for a while, it wasn’t surprising that she was weak. She was all bite and no bark.

I raised my fist and dropped the knife to the floor, letting it clatter on the ground. Then, as fast as I could, I swung my fist into her jaw, knocking her out instantly. Immediately, she slumped forward, and I caught her in my arms. I bent down to scoop her other half up by sliding my arm under her legs and lifting them. She seemed so lightweight in my hold, and I didn’t know whether to attribute it to the fact that she was small, or the fact that I was blessed with inhuman strength. In all likelihood, it was probably both. I carried the unconscious Josephine out from under the bridge, and felt a small sense of dismay. It didn’t need to come to this, but the girl just didn’t know what was good for her sometimes.

Living alone on the streets would eventually kill her, and its about time sometime helped her make smarter decisions.

Josie’s POV

I sighed and sat under the bridge, feeling like an idiot as I counted the coins I had picked off of the sidewalk. Who was I kidding? They were just dimes and pennies, and maybe a quarter or two. Honestly, I was just rambling at this point. I didn’t even think they could buy ANYTHING worth its use. I huddled into the corner of the bridge, and brushed my matted hair to the side. I felt the air become colder, and looked out from underneath the bridge, glancing towards the sky. It was getting late, and I supposed I would have to sleep under the bridge again. On the cold, rocky floor.

Being homeless sucked.

While I was counting, I heard a crunch from behind me, just on the other side of the stone wall. I froze, wondering if I was being watched. The sun was on the other side of the bridge, and anyone and anything cast a really long shadow this time of day. But who could possibly avoid casting a-

Oh. Damien.

I sighed, and furrowed my eyebrows. I irritatedly picked up the coins and dropped them onto the floor in frustration. It wasn’t enough that I was trying to stay alive, but now I’m being followed by a supernatural stalker? Seriously?

C’mon, Damien, it’s the fifth fucking time!

“I know you’re there,” I said, not daring to look behind the bridge. My voice came out low and husky, surprising me. I guessed it was because I hadn’t spoken for a long time. My voice was weird like that, I guess. I guess it’ll make me sound scarier.

Just as I was about to call him out again, Damien emerged from behind the wall. He had on that stupid red coat thing on too, and it was the color of the fresh blood of all his enemies. I hated that coat. Well actually, I loved that coat. I only hated it because it belonged to him. HE, however, needed to leave. I didn’t feel like dealing with him.

“Go away,” I told him, tired of his existence already. Why couldn’t the man just take a hint?

“And leave you all alone?” Damien responded, further annoying me. “Josephine, be reasonable.”

Why does he call me by my full name? It’s JOSIE, geez.

“You’re counting on coins to keep you alive,” he continued. “Coins that are barely enough to do the job.”

I felt terrible when he finished those words. I mean, he was right. What he didn’t know was that I wasn’t JUST picking up money off the streets. I had actually been mugging people for extra cash that I had stuffed in my backpack, but HE didn’t even HAVE to know that to be right. I knew I couldn’t keep this lifestyle up anymore.

Well, maybe just a little longer.

“I’m fine.” I shot back. “I’m doing great. Fuck off.”

Damien gave me a creepy look, and I began to regret what I just said. I didn’t know how he would react to cussing, but I hoped he didn’t blow up on me. Some adults were just like that, unfortunately.

“Are you really doing well?” he asked.

I stared at him. He didn’t explode on me?

“Physically, you look terrible,” he added.

I rolled my eyes internally. The man walking around in the big, red, clown looking jacket (that I secretly liked) had the nerve to tell me that I looked bad? Really? I looked him right in his yellow eyes, past the pitch black locks that framed his face.

“Yeah, well, you always look terrible,” I weakly insulted. It came out much better in my head, but not so well out loud, apparently.

“This isn’t the time, Josephine,” Damien replied seriously.

I knew this wasn’t the time for any of my lame comebacks, so I resolved to knock him out instead. Then, I realized that just making him blackout would be a lot tougher than I thought. Besides, his species didn’t exactly stay unconscious for long. Just barely a few minutes, from what I know. I decided to make his blood flow just enough to disorient him. It was the least I could do, I supposed.

I scooped the coins up and put them in my backpack pocket. Then I slipped my arm under the it to lift it while standing up myself.

“What are you doing?” Damien asked. I ignored him. I just had to get rid of him for now.

I stuck my hand in my backpack and fished around for my knife, the knife I usually used on the people I mugged. It would be quick and easy. It-

Wait.

I pursed my lips, and quit trying to reach for the knife. I was tired and weak because even mugging didn’t support me enough. What was I thinking, trying to attack someone much stronger than I was. I wasn’t even being subtle about it! I grimaced and zipped the backpack up, attributing my temporary loss of sanity to my ever growing hunger and thirst. I prepared to turn tail and escape. It was my best option, really.

Suddenly, Damien stole my backpack away from me.

“Hey!” I yelled instinctively. I tried to grab it back, but he pushed my to the floor. I landed hard, and the gravel dug into my skin. I winced at the pain, but found myself too weak to jump back quickly. Instead, I staggered to my feet.

To my horror, he had found the knife.

“Is this what you were looking for?” Damien asked me. I heard the threatening edge in his voice, and began to back away. I definitely wasn’t going near him if he had a knife. Though, to be honest, his words could cut a lot more than any knife could.

“You thought a sneak attack would get rid of me?” he asked in a way I assumed was rhetorically. My back hit the wall, the wall I completely forgot about. Fear does does crazy things to a person, including making people say the stupidly obvious words that were about to spill out of my mouth.

“I didn’t actually hurt you,” I argued in panic. I mentally slapped myself.

“Nonetheless, you thought it would actually work.” he continued, clearly angry at me. “Even under the impossible circumstances that you would have killed me, what would you do then?”

I had no idea.

“You’d have blood on your hands, and have every judge in the country after you. You’d live in jail for the rest of your life, and all for one bad decision. Not to mention, you don’t even know HOW to kill someone properly.”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. Was he criticizing me because I COULDN’T kill? What?

“You don’t know how to go through with it.” Damien lectured. “Stabbing people....”

He trailed off, but I wasn’t listening. I needed to figure out how to escape. Running to the left and right obviously wouldn’t work because he’d catch up to me faster than I could squeal, so what else. I couldn’t make him bleed out anymore, so what else? It’s not like I could walk through walls.

He snapped his fingers, making me jerk my head up.

“Don’t you dare zone out!” Damien snapped, interrupting my thoughts. Suddenly, he glanced outside. Why he decided to stare at the sky randomly, I didn’t know. Whatever he was smoking, I wanted some.

Out of nowhere, he lunged at me. What happened to just talking? I panicked again as he grabbed my head and held it in place against the wall. It wasn’t enough to crush my bones, but it still hurt. With no other option, I wildly attacked him, slamming my fist and feet against his body. My heart rate sped up in terror as I realized that it wasn’t working, and that he began to hold the knife up in the air. It quivered menacingly in his grasp. I couldn’t scream, but if I could, I guarantee it would be heard from across town. My knees shook as my fear increased, and I heard the knife drop to the ground. Then, I felt his fish smash into my jaw.

The world quickly faded away.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Damien’s POV:

I watched the girl under the bridge, noting how filthy she looked. Even with her lemon blonde hair, she could practically pass for a brunette now, given the amount of dirt and dust caught up in it. Her skin looked bruised, from where I could see, no doubt from fighting with the occasional drunk criminal on the streets. The child huddled into one of the corners of the bridge’s structure, clearly trying to protect herself from the incoming cold of the evening. I wanted to pity her, but at the same time, she simply wouldn’t accept my help. So in a way, it was partially her fault.

The blasted girl was practically dictated by her emotions, and it made reasoning with her so much harder than it should be. They ruled over her like tyrants who forced her to turn a blind eye to logic. I mean yes, we’ve had our fair share of fights before, but that was so long ago. Did it even matter anymore? I was only trying to help her.

I crept closer to the bridge, careful to not make my presence known just yet. My shoes couldn’t make a sound due to my nimble steps, even though the ground was covered in loose gravel. My red coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, and I clutched against my waist. Granted, bright colors aren’t the best thing to wear when stalking someone, but it was no matter. I planned to make my presence known anyway.

A few moments later, there was only a thin stone wall that separated the girl from me. I could easily reach right around it, grasp onto her shoulder, and drag her away, of course, but this wasn’t the time for that. I needed to assess how she had fared on the streets, specifically her mind. I could easily kidnap her, but when a child comes to you willingly, it’s much more satisfying.

I could hear her soft breathing, and strangely, I began to hear strange mumbles mixed in with it as well. Were they words? I leaned my head closer against the wall, and affirmed my suspicions. She seemed to be counting, and I could hear the distinct clinking of coins. I smiled, and shook my head. How did she expect to live life off of street change?

The girl suddenly became quiet, and my breath hitched. Did she know I was there? I stood as still as a statue, hoping she wouldn’t make the effort to simply crane her neck from behind the wall. If she had, I would be right in plain sight. Though to be honest, the thought didn’t really bother me too much. The only thing ruined would be my spying behind the cold stone wall, and nothing else. She was wasn’t much against me in terms of danger, after all.

I let out a breath in a mixture of relief and disappointment as I began to hear her resume her counting the street money she’d no doubt picked off of sidewalks, as if seen many of the homeless do. Yes, I didn’t want to make myself known just yet, but it was also quite a let down. Taking a look behind the wall would be an intelligent thing to do, and if I were to take someone under my wing, I would rather they be of a high intellect. Oh, well. I supposed I’d have to teach her survival skills later.

“I know you’re there,” she spoke softly from behind the wall.

It seems I may have misjudged her.

Thinking it useless to stay in my position any longer, I stood up and walked right around the wall, with my back straight and an aura of regality following my figure. A king is a king no matter where he is, after all.

“Go away,” she groaned at me. I grinned internally. Even with all the grueling time on the streets, she still finds the nerve to hate me. It was wonderful energy, but it just wasn’t adjusted in the right direction.

“And leave you here, all alone?” I asked. “Josephine, be reasonable. You’re counting on coins to keep you alive. Coins that-“ I glanced at the small amount of change “-are barely enough to do the job.”

I saw something that looked like utter despair quickly cloud her grey eyes, but I wasn’t so sure if it really was. It just wasn’t like her. She’d always find a way to retaliate.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, the brief flash of sadness in her eyes suddenly gone. “I’m doing great. Fuck off.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, annoyed by her attitude. She’d treated someone with good intentions like just another beggar, and I wouldn’t stand for it. It was unreasonable that she only wanted me to leave. Her language rubbed me the wrong way as well, as I’m sure it was intended to do. As an adult far older than her, I could swear her under the table and leave her absolutely speechless. It was unnecessary, though, and it would only push her further away from me. An outcome I certainly didn’t want.

“Are you really doing well?” I asked her, raising a brow. “Physically, you look terrible.”

“Yeah well, you always look terrible.”

“This isn’t the time, Josephine.”

She collected the coins off the ground and stuffed them into the side pocket of the mud stained backpack that lay by her side. I lowered my brow, but remained intrigued. Was she actually coming with me?

“What are you doing?” I asked her, watching her sling the backpack over he shoulder and stand up. Josephine brushed her filthy blonde hair to the side, and reached into it, seemingly fishing around for something. I stared, but mentally prepared myself for an attack. She could be a very unpredictable girl at times.

Then, as if someone hit a switch in her mind, Josephine stopped. She gave me a wary glance, and closed the backpack. I frowned. Not only was she not answering my questions, but she was acting like someone had erased her thoughts on whim. I snatched the backpack from her, not taking silence for an answer.

“Hey!” she yelped, trying to yank it back from me. After pushing her away, I stuffed my hand into the backpack and shifted my hands to find whatever she had been searching for. Amidst what felt like papers, plastic bags, and God knows what else, I gripped the plastic handle of a familiar object. Familiar and dangerous, if I wasn’t wrong.

I lifted my hand out of the darkness of the backpack, and found myself holding a serrated knife with a five inch blade. It didn’t look like anything special, and resembled an ordinary kitchen knife. Still, her hidden intentions came into light. Apparently, stabbing me was a supposed solution to her problems.

Unacceptable.

“Is this what you were reaching for?” I asked Josephine, seeing her back away. She hit the wall, and had no more room to move anymore backwards. “You thought a sneak attack would get rid of me?”

“I didn’t actually hurt you,” she quickly replied. I could hear her voice quiver in what I hoped was fear. Good. It would teach her a lesson.

“Nonetheless, you thought it would actually work.” I chided her. “Even under the impossible circumstances that you would have killed me, what would you do then? You’d have blood on your hands, and have every judge in the country after you. You’d live in jail for the rest of your life, and all for one bad decision. Not to mention, you don’t even know HOW to kill someone properly.”

My speech made her skin pale, but confusion spread upon her face at my last sentence. I dropped the backpack to the floor and continued nonetheless.

“You don’t know how to go through with it.” I explained, still miffed by her subtle plot against me. Who was she to go against someone like me? “Stabbing people isn’t the easiest way to kill a person, no matter what any book or movie might show you. Whatever you might have watched or read might make murder seem easy, but I assure you, it’s not. You need a strong body and psyche to get through it without damaging yourself. And what about the forensic evidence? You’re just going to get yourself caught? Why won’t you think ahead? Have some planning skills, for God’s sake.”

She seemed dazed while listening to my speech, so to bring her attention back, I snapped my fingers. She perked up immediately.

“Don’t you dare zone out!” I chided her.

I realized that talking wouldn’t do much of anything at this point, and that it was also getting much darker outside. The evening had already arrived, and if I wasted any more time, it would be night before I could get her to leave if I wasted my time. I sighed, and gripped the knife-still in my hand-a little tighter.

Josephine’s eyes widened as I advanced towards her. Before she could let out a scream, I clamped a hand over her mouth, pressing her head against the wall. She punched and kicked me, but the pain didn’t register much. For someone who’d lived in the streets for a while, it wasn’t surprising that she was weak. She was all bite and no bark.

I raised my fist and dropped the knife to the floor, letting it clatter on the ground. Then, as fast as I could, I swung my fist into her jaw, knocking her out instantly. Immediately, she slumped forward, and I caught her in my arms. I bent down to scoop her other half up by sliding my arm under her legs and lifting them. She seemed so lightweight in my hold, and I didn’t know whether to attribute it to the fact that she was small, or the fact that I was blessed with inhuman strength. In all likelihood, it was probably both. I carried the unconscious Josephine out from under the bridge, and felt a small sense of dismay. It didn’t need to come to this, but the girl just didn’t know what was good for her sometimes.

Living alone on the streets would eventually kill her, and its about time sometime helped her make smarter decisions.

Josie’s POV

I sighed and sat under the bridge, feeling like an idiot as I counted the coins I had picked off of the sidewalk. Who was I kidding? They were just dimes and pennies, and maybe a quarter or two. Honestly, I was just rambling at this point. I didn’t even think they could buy ANYTHING worth its use. I huddled into the corner of the bridge, and brushed my matted hair to the side. I felt the air become colder, and looked out from underneath the bridge, glancing towards the sky. It was getting late, and I supposed I would have to sleep under the bridge again. On the cold, rocky floor.

Being homeless sucked.

While I was counting, I heard a crunch from behind me, just on the other side of the stone wall. I froze, wondering if I was being watched. The sun was on the other side of the bridge, and anyone and anything cast a really long shadow this time of day. But who could possibly avoid casting a-

Oh. Damien.

I sighed, and furrowed my eyebrows. I irritatedly picked up the coins and dropped them onto the floor in frustration. It wasn’t enough that I was trying to stay alive, but now I’m being followed by a supernatural stalker? Seriously?

C’mon, Damien, it’s the fifth fucking time!

“I know you’re there,” I said, not daring to look behind the bridge. My voice came out low and husky, surprising me. I guessed it was because I hadn’t spoken for a long time. My voice was weird like that, I guess. I guess it’ll make me sound scarier.

Just as I was about to call him out again, Damien emerged from behind the wall. He had on that stupid red coat thing on too, and it was the color of the fresh blood of all his enemies. I hated that coat. Well actually, I loved that coat. I only hated it because it belonged to him. HE, however, needed to leave. I didn’t feel like dealing with him.

“Go away,” I told him, tired of his existence already. Why couldn’t the man just take a hint?

“And leave you all alone?” Damien responded, further annoying me. “Josephine, be reasonable.”

Why does he call me by my full name? It’s JOSIE, geez.

“You’re counting on coins to keep you alive,” he continued. “Coins that are barely enough to do the job.”

I felt terrible when he finished those words. I mean, he was right. What he didn’t know was that I wasn’t JUST picking up money off the streets. I had actually been mugging people for extra cash that I had stuffed in my backpack, but HE didn’t even HAVE to know that to be right. I knew I couldn’t keep this lifestyle up anymore.

Well, maybe just a little longer.

“I’m fine.” I shot back. “I’m doing great. Fuck off.”

Damien gave me a creepy look, and I began to regret what I just said. I didn’t know how he would react to cussing, but I hoped he didn’t blow up on me. Some adults were just like that, unfortunately.

“Are you really doing well?” he asked.

I stared at him. He didn’t explode on me?

“Physically, you look terrible,” he added.

I rolled my eyes internally. The man walking around in the big, red, clown looking jacket (that I secretly liked) had the nerve to tell me that I looked bad? Really? I looked him right in his yellow eyes, past the pitch black locks that framed his face.

“Yeah, well, you always look terrible,” I weakly insulted. It came out much better in my head, but not so well out loud, apparently.

“This isn’t the time, Josephine,” Damien replied seriously.

I knew this wasn’t the time for any of my lame comebacks, so I resolved to knock him out instead. Then, I realized that just making him blackout would be a lot tougher than I thought. Besides, his species didn’t exactly stay unconscious for long. Just barely a few minutes, from what I know. I decided to make his blood flow just enough to disorient him. It was the least I could do, I supposed.

I scooped the coins up and put them in my backpack pocket. Then I slipped my arm under the it to lift it while standing up myself.

“What are you doing?” Damien asked. I ignored him. I just had to get rid of him for now.

I stuck my hand in my backpack and fished around for my knife, the knife I usually used on the people I mugged. It would be quick and easy. It-

Wait.

I pursed my lips, and quit trying to reach for the knife. I was tired and weak because even mugging didn’t support me enough. What was I thinking, trying to attack someone much stronger than I was. I wasn’t even being subtle about it! I grimaced and zipped the backpack up, attributing my temporary loss of sanity to my ever growing hunger and thirst. I prepared to turn tail and escape. It was my best option, really.

Suddenly, Damien stole my backpack away from me.

“Hey!” I yelled instinctively. I tried to grab it back, but he pushed my to the floor. I landed hard, and the gravel dug into my skin. I winced at the pain, but found myself too weak to jump back quickly. Instead, I staggered to my feet.

To my horror, he had found the knife.

“Is this what you were looking for?” Damien asked me. I heard the threatening edge in his voice, and began to back away. I definitely wasn’t going near him if he had a knife. Though, to be honest, his words could cut a lot more than any knife could.

“You thought a sneak attack would get rid of me?” he asked in a way I assumed was rhetorically. My back hit the wall, the wall I completely forgot about. Fear does does crazy things to a person, including making people say the stupidly obvious words that were about to spill out of my mouth.

“I didn’t actually hurt you,” I argued in panic. I mentally slapped myself.

“Nonetheless, you thought it would actually work.” he continued, clearly angry at me. “Even under the impossible circumstances that you would have killed me, what would you do then?”

I had no idea.

“You’d have blood on your hands, and have every judge in the country after you. You’d live in jail for the rest of your life, and all for one bad decision. Not to mention, you don’t even know HOW to kill someone properly.”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. Was he criticizing me because I COULDN’T kill? What?

“You don’t know how to go through with it.” Damien lectured. “Stabbing people....”

He trailed off, but I wasn’t listening. I needed to figure out how to escape. Running to the left and right obviously wouldn’t work because he’d catch up to me faster than I could squeal, so what else. I couldn’t make him bleed out anymore, so what else? It’s not like I could walk through walls.

He snapped his fingers, making me jerk my head up.

“Don’t you dare zone out!” Damien snapped, interrupting my thoughts. Suddenly, he glanced outside. Why he decided to stare at the sky randomly, I didn’t know. Whatever he was smoking, I wanted some.

Out of nowhere, he lunged at me. What happened to just talking? I panicked again as he grabbed my head and held it in place against the wall. It wasn’t enough to crush my bones, but it still hurt. With no other option, I wildly attacked him, slamming my fist and feet against his body. My heart rate sped up in terror as I realized that it wasn’t working, and that he began to hold the knife up in the air. It quivered menacingly in his grasp. I couldn’t scream, but if I could, I guarantee it would be heard from across town. My knees shook as my fear increased, and I heard the knife drop to the ground. Then, I felt his fish smash into my jaw.

The world quickly faded away.