The streets were dark and deserted except for the few streetlights that were on buzzed in the night, giving the sidewalks eerie shadows. The man knelt at the end of the semi lit dead end alley. His back turned away from the other man as he approached quietly, the only sounds was his rapid breath and his shoes on the ground.
The man stood and spun around, revealing a bloodied white apron and shirt. The long black rubber gloves and surgeon’s mask he wore over his mouth and nose were also splattered with blood. There were several visible handprints on the man’s chest, making his apron look like a sick child’s hand painting. He glared at the man who had stopped a few paces back before slicing the twelve inch knife in the air and walking towards him, grunts of rage filling the otherwise silent alley.
The other man reacted only when his attacker got close enough, swinging the crowbar and connecting. The man fell to his knees and dropped the knife. the man in the suit looked down on the man before swinging the crowbar again and again, until the man’s round belly stopped moving and his last breath was gone. He took his crowbar in the other hand and stood over the man on the ground, staring down with nothing but hate in his eyes. He loosened his tie slightly and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
Another one down. This man is part of an insane cult that has been terrorizing the city. My name is Eric Vincent and I’m a police detective. At least, I was. Not so sure I will be anymore. I killed two members of this cult and now they want me dead. I’m not going to be one of their victims. I’m not gonna sit around and wait to die. I’m gonna get in there first. I know how to find them. I know the world they live in and there’s no place they can hide.
He let his shoulders sag in a deep, satisfied sigh before slowly turning and walking back out of the alley.
This group of insane freaks is slaughtering people all around the city. I don’t know why. I don’t wanna know. I just want them dead. I heard some rumors that they may be some escaped lunatics, but it makes no difference to me. For me, this is personal.
Police sirens shattered cool silence of the night as they sped past him. He pressed himself against the wall, watching as they passed and only coming out when they were gone.
A few months back, my wife was murdered. No one knows for sure by who, but judging by the state her body was left in, it coulda only been these crazies. Now they wanna kill me. Well, they can try, but I’m not going down without a fight.
He closed his eyes as the memory of finding his wife’s body, bloodied and tattered, on the dirt basement floor. He had held her in his arms, crying into her stiff shoulder as her blood stained the front of his shirt.
Manic giggling shattered his thoughts and he lifted his head. Spotting, the hooded figure across the street, he squared his shoulders as it slowly turned towards him. Its face was covered with a steel mask, a wide slit where its eyes should’ve been. He leveled his gaze to the thing staring at him and his grip tightened on his crowbar.
God! How many of them are there?
He stepped away from the wall and ran towards the figure as it vanished down the stairs. He chased after it, closing the distance quickly, his long black coat dancing around his knees. He stopped at the top of the stairs as it vanished into the shadows of the subway station. He held the crowbar like a bat, his grip firm and ready for anything, and watched his shadow occasionally appear and disappear again. Determination filled his step as he jogged down the steps.
Sirens wailed all around him as he walked cautiously towards the shadows. He scanned the benches and closed restroom doorways in search of any attack. As he neared where it had gone, he rested the crowbar on his shoulder and once again held it in both hands. The train passed him with a squeal. The wind it kicked up sent his jacket dancing around his knees again, but he ignored it, knowing his prey wasn’t too far away. His eyes darted back and forth, never pausing long enough to let something escape.
