Shadow Seeker

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     I throw my keys on the counter of my homey apartment. It's small, but one of those old buildings with character.

     I'm sure everyone can guess why I would like "older" things. Although, honestly... This almost seems new, to me.

     The built in bookshelves already hold an assortment of books on them. One or two older than me. Just kidding. But I do have a few dating to the early 1900's here. This isn't even my collection, but every new place I check out antique stores and thrift shops for their books.

     When you walk in the front door of my little home, it leads straight into the living room area. The kitchen is off to the left-really the same room-separated by a counter. And then the bedroom and bath are off to the right.

     I have enough money to afford a lot more, but I see no need in such wasteful tendencies.

     There isn't a tv in my apartment, but there are two laptops and a monitor/computer unit in a desk in the corner. I was around when the first computer was made, they always fascinated me.

     So yes. I have a smart phone. And yes. I can use it.

     I don't understand why people have such problems with devices. Maybe it is due to their minds getting older and not being able to sustain the amount of information needed inside their mind.

      I have stayed young over the years, and can easily glean anything I need to from the minds around me.

I had no homework to accomplish, due to it being the first day.

I also had nothing to do to occupy my mind-although it was still in a lot of pain.

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Later that night, I decided a quick trip to the convenience store a few blocks down the street would do me some good.

Of course, on my way back-with multiple pain killers-the darkening sky decided to send rivulets of streaming tears down to the earth.

It was raining.

I suppose it wasn't the worse case. My hair always had a bad day.

A block away from my place I picked up three different minds.

Vicious.

Their cruelty surprised even me, who had lived through the times of war. Who had lived through millions of depressions and deaths. Who had lived through the proverbial death of myself.
But these minds... These kinds were rotted from the inside out.

There was nothing close to a justification inside their empty skulls.
These men killed for the thrill.

And they wanted me.

I saw them surrounding me, but there was no clear way to maneuvere myself out of the deadly situation. They had formed a writhing circle around me.
The one in back held a knife, the others rope and duct tape.

They wanted to have fun with their prey before the ultimate death.
The man on the left tried an uppercut with his left hand, oddly the predominant one.

I easily rolled back, staying on the balls of my feet, keeping my balance. The man behind me, thinking he saw a clear chance, reached down to grasp me by my forearms.

A quick duck down evades his advances, and then tripping him while he was unbalanced while leaning towards me had him falling into the hard ground.

The other two were already coming at me when I turned back around, and I barely ducked out of the way of another punch, but couldn't avoid the kick aimed at my shin.

I heard a crack.

I thrust my hand at one mans nose, while jabbing the other one in his throat, viciously.

The sicko on the right is now concerned with a bloody nose, and the other on his knees trying to get breath to return to his lungs.

And then I pick up on the thoughts of the man behind me.

But I am too late.

I get thrown on the ground-the air knocked out of me. I struggle to breath, but he brings a knee down on my sternum. The other two men come alongside, looking down at their conquest.

They expected a fun night.

And where was everyone? Did no one pass by and see what was happening?
I don't care if this is a small side street, this should have drawn SOMEONE's attention! Anyone!

I try to buck the man off of me, but he simply grasps my fists in his hands, holding them above my head as I thrash.

He strokes me cheek. I try not to gag.
Men like him look for a reaction, so I keep my face a careful mask.

One of them gets impatient and starts to paw at my chest, attempting to get my shirt off of me.

I lay there.

The imbecile on top gets a little careless, and holds my hands with only one of his own, wanting a piece of action.

That's my chance.

I grab the knife, which had casually been laid down beside me.

Now I have a choice.

The probability of me being able to stab all of these men and get away was highly unlikely.

So I did the next best thing, and stabbed myself in the heart.

Hey guys! It's psych here! I'm writing all this on my phone, so it's hard to tell how long it is... If I could have any feedback that would be great! Do you like the story? And thanks to my first vote ever! :) also thanks to all my first followers! Thanks guys ;P