Masked Terror

Chapter One.

"Ah, yes. Two cinnamon buns please."

The waitress scribbled down the order and left, leaving the two teenagers alone at their table.

"Ozzie!" whined Zero, hiding her face behind her hands. "You know I can't stand cinnamon!"

Ozzie grinned mischievously, folding his arms. "What about last time when you made me eat that chocolate muffin?"

"Everybody likes chocolate." mumbled Zero, resting her chin on her hand.

"Well, I don't." replied Ozzie, smirking.

"And I don't like cinnamon buns!"

The two friends were sat at a table for two residing within a small café on the outskirts of London. Ozzie had managed to drag Zero there by promising that he would buy her something to eat.

Of course, he did, but it wasn't what she had in mind.

'You should have known he would've pulled a trick like this,' Zero mentally scolded herself, furrowing her eyebrows behind her thick, black fringe. 'It's Ozzie, for God's sake.'

Before Zero could continue whining about Ozzie's food preferences, the waitress returned and placed the two orders on the table before sending Ozzie a flirty wink and walking off.

Zero smirked. "Did that just happen?"

She glanced over at Ozzie for a reply, only to notice that a dark blush had covered his face and he was attempting to burrow his face into the black scarf he was wearing.

She laughed, mentally noting how unintentionally cute he was when he was embarrassed. "Calm down and eat the bun you went through so much to get."

Ozzie nodded slightly, clearing his throat and picking up the bun, tracing his tongue over the icing sugar that sat on top. Zero picked up hers and wrinkled her nose slightly, glancing at Ozzie before taking a small bite of the bun and unwillingly swallowing it, pulling a bottle of water from her bag and taking a swig of it.

"Isn't cinnamon supposed to be sweet?" she almost demanded, coughing softly. "It tastes like someone put sweet chilli extract in a strawberry milkshake."

"That's probably how it's made." said Ozzie, laughing slightly. "Then they're fried on the pavement on the Summer Solstice until golden brown-"

Zero choked slightly, laughing. "That's really unhygienic."

"Unhygienic, my ass." replied Ozzie, smirking slightly.

"Exactly." mumbled Zero, sniggering slightly to herself as she took another bite of the bun, making frantic wafting gestures with her hand after she swallowed it.

The two looked at eachother, smiling, for a few moments, before a loud bang was heard from across the café, causing them both to jump slightly, and Zero to fall off her chair.

"A gunshot!' shouted a woman a few tables away from them. "That was a gunshot!"

"No shit, Sherlock." muttered Zero, standing up and brushing a few crumbs and grains of icing sugar from her black leggings. "Ozzie, we need to-"

Another gunshot. Another dead.

"We need to get out before we're shot." said Zero through gritted teeth, grabbing Ozzie's arm and pulling him out of his seat. Ozzie nodded abruptly, a little shaken, and the two of them ran from the café, Zero leaving the half-eaten bun on the table.

"Number three?" Ozzie asked desperately, struggling to keep up with Zero, who had always been fairly athletic.

"Well, we don't have anywhere else." replied Zero, glancing at Ozzie before returning her attention to where she was going. "Three it is."

Ozzie suddenly stopped, causing Zero to almost trip over her own feet with annoyance. "Keep running!" she hissed, clenching her fists. "There can't be just one gunman!"

Ozzie remained still, eyes wide and bloodshot. Through all of his shock, all he could manage to stutter was "B-behind y-ou..."

Zero was suddenly overcome with terror, slowly turning around, hands raised, already knowing what was going to be there.

Sure enough, a tall, slim male with an all-black attire was standing there, rifle in hand, aiming right at Zero.

"Well, I guess you got me." said Zero, eyebrows raised. "If you're less of a coward then I think you are, shoot."

Ozzie let out a whimper of disagreement, flinching helplessly as the man pointed the gun at him before back at Zero.

"Shoot!" she almost demanded, her hands still held in the air. She knew it was risky, but it was all part of the plan.

The man hesitated for a minute before, to Zero's surprise, he pulled the trigger...

And time seemed to pause for a few seconds.

All Zero felt was someone running into her, their arms wrapping around her waist, and the two of them falling hard onto the concrete floor.

The only thing she could hear after that was the quick footsteps of the terrorist running away.

Zero lay still, catching her breath, eyes closed, deciding to ignore the fact that someone was lying on top of her.

"Z-zero?" uttered a panicked voice, it's warm breath dusting over her cheeks.

Zero groaned slightly and opened her eyes, seeing Ozzie looking down at her.

She blushed, pushing him off herself and sitting up, massaging her right hip slightly. "Yeah, yeah, calm down, I'm alive-"

"You didn't expect him to shoot, did you?" said Ozzie, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Of course I didn't." muttered Zero, standing up and stretching slightly. "I'm not stupid. I was just trying to prove that he was a coward."

Ozzie laughed a little, standing up himself and hitching his trousers up. "If you say so."

Zero smirked and shook her head, continuing to run. Ozzie hesitated slightly, glancing to where the terrorist ran to, before catching up with her.

The two ran around what seemed like infinite corners and through countless alleyways before they arrived at a small, rotting, wooden shack. It had quite a haunted feel to it; the planks it had been structured with were rotted and chewed, the roof had lots of holes in, and, quite frankly, Ozzie had no idea whether him and Zero would be able to survive there for long.

But it was all part of the experience, right?

The two stepped inside before exchanging nervous glances and pushing open a door, revealing a burnt room, supposedly a living room, with a frayed carpet and a broken table.

When they were children, Zero and Ozzie had agreed on three hiding places in the event of a disaster.

And this was the last one.