One more clap on the shoulder and Allan disappears with the others. I am left standing on the dark street at the corner of the store. With a sigh, I lean against the cold stone wall. I tip my head back to look up at the street light in the distance. It sheds a halo of light in a perfect circle under it.
The soft sound of whispering to the left jerks me to attention. I lean forward to see more. The black abyss of the alley swallows all hope of sight.
“Guys? Are you back there?” My heart begins to pound in my chest. Lookout duty never means actually doing anything. Someone from the gang must be playing a prank.
“Hey.” I try to shout, but my voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. “is anybody there?”
A scratching sound like metal grating on stone. I swallow and look over my shoulder at the empty street. None of the gang is in sight. Where are they? Everything is too silent all I can hear is the heart pounding in my chest.
I hear the sound of talking that is too far to make out the words. I take a tentative step that direction and listen. There is nothing but silence.
A cursedly deep curiosity rather than sense of duty is what pushes me forward. I enter the dark, feeling very much like I’ve been swallowed. I brush the wall with my fingers, listening to my breathing. The black turns to grey, then a lighter grey. Something flickers, a form moving between a source of light.
I press sideways against the wall and silently pick my way forward. I hear voices again, still to quiet to make out words. They stop as soon as they started.
The silence is eerie, making the back of my neck tingle. Swallowing, I peer around the corner to the source of light. It’s a battery-powered lantern, like one you would use during a power outage. It is sitting in the middle of a clearing. The source of the voices are nowhere in sight. My stomach tightens. It’s got to be a trap. What is going on?
I turn to look back the way I came and come face to face with a man. I freeze in shock.
“Hello there.” His voice is low, spoken through a wide grin.
My first instinct is to flee, I turn and try to run. He grabs my shoulder and jerks me back so hard that I stumble backwards into him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I try shove the man away. It’s like trying to move one of the walls that surround this space. He pushes with a hard-muscled forearm against my chest until I’m pressed against the wall so hard that I can’t breath.
“I said, where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” I pant.
“I think you’re lying.”
I hear a sound like knuckles cracking. Out of the corner of my vision I see his fingers have turned into claws. They are dark, and jointed like fingers. the ends curve into sharp points like talons.
The man notices me looking and grins. His face is so close to mine that I can smell his foul breath.
“Yes. I am a mutant. You are too, aren’t you?”
I squirm and struggle to free myself from his grip. My mouth opens to yell for help, but his second hand slides up under my jaw and squeezes. I can’t breath. Can’t make a sound except a pitiful whimper.
The clawed fingers start to dig in to the soft flesh around my neck. Warm blood seeps down the the collar of my jacket.
“Talon.”
The man holding me grunts and glances to the side. Another man is standing there. A hood conceals most of his face.
“We aren’t supposed to hurt him.”
YOU ARE READING
Shape Shifter
FantascienzaThe people on Nita are plagued with a disease that leaves survivors with unusual powers. Kevin, a teenage boy with the ability to shape shift, is the son of the man in charge of trying to stop the mutations. He was told to keep his powers a secr...