Cold Colours (EDITING)

Runaway (2.0)

"Ghouls... no..." I whimper out, my eyes widening. I had heard the name far too many times. Even the simple word fills me with so much fear I would rather curl up into a ball and cry the night away.

Ghouls... the monsters of the night. The ones who tear people limb from limb, eating their flesh as their victims are forced to watch. Screams. Panic. Horror. It all runs through my mind at that one word.

This wasn't right...

This wasn't right! He was lying, he was just trying to scare me.

"Oh baby, I don't lie." The man seems to coo, his head tilting to the side as he smiles darkly. "That's a sin."

I take a step back from him, a small whimper leaving my lips as I pull my now healed wrist closer. Fear was washing over me in waves. It was like I was standing on the sandy shore of a barrier island, talking the fear that was supposed to flow onto everybody else.

"I can't be..." It was hard to imagine his words rang true. Hard to imagine that someone could be telling me the truth when the truth seemed so unlikely.

But, rubbing my thumb over the smooth skin that should be open and bleeding right now, I felt myself slowly start to believe. Believe in this man. Believe in his words of terror that would scare any sane person to insanity.

After the fear had ran its short lived course, another emotion slowly began to take over. Fear was followed by panic, the nature of which gripped my lungs and squeezed as hard as it could. Suddenly I was hyperventilating, my eyes glued to the monsters red and black ones as they suddenly flash a green color. For a moment he looked like a regular citizen.

But it only lasted a moment. As soon as it had happened the man was a monster again. A snarling, seething, terrorizing monster.

I don't ever remember starting to run. All I know is one minute I was looking that man in the eye and the next I my feet were pounding against the sidewalk noisily as I ran. Peoplewere once again giving me stairs, their eyes following me disapprovingly as I sprinted past them.

I didn't even linger on that. Instead I was running, my mind focusing on nothing around me except the line in front of me. I knew how to get home and I very much expected to get there.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. My normal thoughts were pushed to side. I left behind the pondering questions such as 'what is the difference between an orange and a tangerine' and instead I was left with one goal. To get home.

Maybe it was an instinct? Maybe my brain was reacting to the complete overload it had received from that encounter.

No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get those eyes out of my mind. Even as I ran up the rusted stairs of my apartment, even as I slammed the door locked behind me, those eyes just stayed glued to my mind. Crimson and bloodlustfull. That was all I saw in that man's eyes.

It scared me to even think I was anything like him.

My butt hit the cold ground silently as I slid down my front door, my hands reaching up to pull on my hair. My panic began to lessen considerably, the comfortable light blue walls and familiar statues of naked men on my entryway table tended to calm me. Maybe it was the familiarality? Or maybe it was just the joke with the tiny naked men me and (F/N) always said when she cane over.

Either way I was calmed. I guess that was the most important thing at the moment.

I was home. I was safe. I was alone.

My head slowly rises from my knees, observing the rather clustered and dusty living room outstretched before me. It looked like cleaning was in order... after all I had been in the hospital for who knows how long...

Speaking of which! I need to text my-

My brain was cut short as I reached in my empty pocket. My phone wasn't there... it was always there. With a huff I stuff my hand down my other pocket, standing quickly as I did. When I came up with nothing I reached for my purse, only to realize I was missing that too.

I had left everything of mine with my friends...

Great...