Prologue
He looked back, running out of that dark room, that dank, terrifying, dark room. Hopefully, he thought, he could leave that thing behind in the room, back in the decay of that room, back into the oppressive darkness and stale air that was unleashed when he unscrewed that aircraft hangar door. That thing looked like something out of his worse nightmare, if he didn’t know better. He would’ve thought that one of those snobby, stuck-up, pompous bastards put it there as decoration to scare the living daylights out of him.
But he did know better.
The room seemed too old to have been broken into, too out of place to belong to the school. And even though his mind was coming up with crazy thoughts and conspiracies, he did his best to keep his mind clear at the task at hand: running, and running far. He tripped up the stairs, and with a flash of pain, realized he had left behind his flashlight. Later, he thought, I could go back for it. Then he remembered that only the stairs were dark, the rest of it was light enough for him to see perfectly. Within minutes he was back at his dorm door, pounding it down. “Guys, let me in!” he shouted, but got no response. He only had one option: go inside, as leaving them to that thing wasn’t happening, regardless of how badly they had treated him.
He ran at the door, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. He stumbled into the room, to find the one thing he didn’t want to see: It.
It had the leader in its hands, holding the leader by the shoulders, and the leader seemed to have been drained, shriveled up into a husk. There was no sound in the room, unless you counted the odd crackling sound emitted by It. It dropped the leader, and he hit the ground without a sound, almost like he was a sheet of paper. It looked at him, and all he could feel was fear, fear in its most primal form: the fear of death. It then disappeared in a wave of black haze, and for a moment, he thought maybe, maybe he would wake up. Finding himself back at the stairwell; fast asleep the time period well over, him being “accepted” into a club that didn’t exist. But then something happened to that poor boy that It had attacked. First, he inflated like a balloon, restoring to his former size. But then the skin turned grey, and a freakish, cartoon smile appeared on his face. The leader rushed him, and the last thing he ever remembers is the face, freakish and grotesque, charging at him with surprising speed.
And then, like all nightmares, it ended with him waking with a start, and a pulling of his trench coat a bit tighter around him.
A few (Thousand) Years Later
I remember running, not for the fitness benefits, but because of thirteen-year-olds.
Sounds harmless? Now equip the ten of them with baseball bats.
Now do you see the picture?
Anyway, though my stride was always longer than theirs, and I knew the town better, it seems as if I couldn’t shake them as easily this time. I guess weapons give people a speed boost or something. So I turned twice, once left, and once right.
That part about knowing the town better? I guess that was a lie, as I found myself staring at the brick wall of a dead-end alleyway. Dead-end, how appropriate. I judged the height of the wall, but seeing that it adjoined a building, I knew jumping was out of the option. So instead, I started to back myself against the wall, but the prone figure stopped me pretty fast. I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t see him, after all, anyone could be hidden if they wore a brown trench coat in an ally way and laid down, covering himself in it. I knew that my maneuver had given myself some time, so I went over to the figure, trying to see what he was doing here, for we hadn’t had a visitor in a few months. Dang, was he attractive, even with his eyes closed. His face was angular, but not enough to make it harsh, with a weird, scraggly tuft of hair on his chin, and his hair, light brown, came up into a swoof. It didn’t fall or anything, it just stayed there. While I was soaking up his appearance, his eyes flashed open; they were a sharp, bright blue. Just as soon as they opened, they closed, and I had the thought that he didn’t want people knowing he was awake, or even there.
“I saw that, you can get up now.” I said, and held out my hand.
He seemed to act like he didn’t hear me, but eventually, his eyes opened again, and he held out his right hand. I hesitated: it was made completely out of a metal that had a weird yellow shine to it, unlike any I’ve ever seen.
“Well?” He said.
“Your hand is metal.” I said, stumbling over the words.
“Well, would you look at that, it is. You don’t see that every day, do you now?” He said, almost like he had this conversation before, while getting himself up with a long groan. He was taller then me, maybe six four, which is impressive, seeing that I’m taller than most guys anyway.
Which is about when I heard the shouts from the kids, they knew where I was. Now usually I would’ve fought them, seeing that my grandfather made sure that I had proper hand-to-hand training, but seeing that they had bats, and I actually didn’t have my spring-knife with me, I chose the next best option.
“Hey, this is crazy, and I know that we just met but…” I started
“There are numerous hooligans armed to the teeth chasing you?” He finished.
“Yeah…” I trailed off
“No problem.” He said, bringing his arms to his back, making them touch, and them whipping them back forward, clapping them.
They rushed the ally way, running straight at him, one even poised to strike. Then he did something extremely weird; he shouted at them.
“HIT THE DECK” he yelled at a volume I thought impossible with his lanky frame.
And one by one, they all did that; fell face first into the concrete.
I was still standing there, gawking, when he walked past me, bending down to retrieve a hidden duffle bag, rather large and perfectly round.
“That won’t hold them for long, you know.” He said, starting to leave.
“Wa?” I stammered, then, gathering my wits, I followed him.
When we had finally cleared the alley, and I had broken most of those bats, he finally said something, though I can’t say it was directed at me.
“Jed, shut up…Oh, my name is Dave by the way.” He said extending his right hand for a shake. I noticed that he had put a leather glove over it, as if to hide the fact that is was metal.
“Sarah.” I said, and then slowly offered my hand to shake. Though the grip wasn’t nearly as tight as I expected, it still cause me to flinch. When we let go, he asked me yet another strange thing, as if nothing that came out of his mouth was ever normal.
“Hey, could I crash with you for awhile? I should only be around when it gets dark.”
“Sure,” I said, somewhat confused, “But it won’t get dark for another few hours. I could get you a room at the inn before that. Besides, I found you in that alley, why the sudden urge for a house?” I finally said
He looked concerned, and after a long pause, he finally said something even more confusing: “Let’s just say it isn’t safe for me to be out at night.” And let it drop there.
