adomania [ONE-SHOTS]

shadow

Round 3: Orange Belt. 800 words. Active voice.

There's a young man walking through the abandoned houses of Counterville. He's tall, lean, with dark hair and a scar on his left cheek. He's holding a flashlight in his hand, the light dancing over the ruins of a once proud and beautiful town. He has heard all sorts of rumours and whispers about what happened to the town. "It is cursed", they say. "They all died. The shadow of Counterville killed them." But rumours and gossip have never stopped him.

He does this for fun. He goes to abandoned places. He films it. Puts it online. The man knows, that Counterville will give him the ultimate kick. Adrenaline and views. It's the perfect place to be.

The flashlight dances, as he takes out his camera and starts recording. His voice is barely a whisper, but it carries through the night. He starts sweating as he wanders through ruins.

On the other side of the town, a head suddenly lifts in an alleyway. Eyes gleam and nostrils flare, as they smell the sour taste of sweat. A small grin appears on the creature's face. It's not alone anymore. And finally, it has found new prey. Tonight, there will be another hunt.

Like so many other humans, the man stumbling through the ruins feels his sixth sense alerting his body and his brain. Most humans have it – it has saved many, especially those who fled Counterville. He stops in his tracks, mid-sentence, as he feels something in the air shift. It's nothing his other senses understand. It's just a tingling feeling in his stomach, like a string pulling on him. It's heavy and unsettling.

He looks up and around, but there's nothing to see except the ruins of a village.

He listens to the sounds of the night, but there's only silence. It pulls heavier on that string in his chest. The hair on the back of his neck stands up. The lack of sounds is unsettling. The light of the flashlight moves, as the man slowly turns. He needs to leave. His feet move fast, his fist tight around the flashlight. His camera is still running, but his thoughts are elsewhere.

The sound of his sneakers on the pavement, occasionally kicking against stones and trash, echoes in the dark. His breathing is loud. There's still that sixth sense, which makes his heart beat painfully fast. Even if he'd try to stay, he couldn't. Every single fibre in his body wants to leave.

For the first time in his life, he is terrified. He had been scared before. He had seen plenty of unsettling and scary things. But nothing compares to this.

"Hunted", he thinks.

And how right he is. Above him, on the roofs of once tall and proud houses, a figure jumps from one ruin to the next. The shadow flies through the silent night sky. It's feet make no sound, move not a single loose brick. It knows every stone of the town. With every leap, it comes closer to it's prey. The shadow smells it, tastes the sweat and angst in the air.

The shadow grins. It's hungry. And how good the human smells. The shadow has been alone for too long and has waited so very long for this moment.

The human starts running. His shoes hit the pavement. He drops his camera, but he doesn't care. His entire body is telling him to run. His sixth sense is more awake than ever. Terror fills him, the realization that it's too late. He doesn't know for what exactly, just that it's too late.

Teeth bared; the grin is now gone on the shadow's face. Eyes wide, gleaming in the dark, it's ready. It's way faster than the man, so much faster, that it's almost too boring, too easy for the shadow to go after the human. Almost.

With inhuman strength, the shadow jumps.

Sharp nails sink into the man's back, sinking deep into his skin. Blood immediately starts pouring out of the long marks, as if knifes had cut his skin. He falls, his hands try to catch him, and his flashlight hits his own nose. Tears blur his vision.

Hands grab his arms and hoist him up. A hand forces his chin up, bending his neck uncomfortably. "Fight, little human. I want some fun."

The voice is unexpectedly high and the man blinks against his tears. He stares at the creature in front of him.

A young girl looks back, so young and pretty.

But her eyes gleam and her teeth are sharp and the horror, oh, the horror of that big smile. Her laughter rings through the night as her teeth find his flesh and he screams.

He tries to fight. But there's no equal to the shadow of Counterville.

Here we go. This is sort of a sequel to "hunter and prey", which is a one-shot from last year's Write To Rank contest.  Anyways, it's 1:30 am and time to sleep.  byebye!