Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Thirteen

"Who is this dude?" I asked, barely a second before he charged and his sword smashed into the porcelain sink just to the left of me.

It chipped slightly and my heart jumped in my throat as I backed up into Death.

Death wrapped an arm around my side and literally lifted me off the ground as though I weighed nothing at all. He turned to face the door and as he did it was slammed open, bits of wood from the corner cracking and the metal from the lock smacking loudly on the floor as part of it broke away.

I was breathless as he carried me out of the toilet, not only because having the big guy pick me up out of nowhere was surprising but because the strength with which he picked me up knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

I gasped as I stumbled back onto the ground, still on my feet but considering collapsing due to the apparently jelly ankles I had.

He kept walking though, seemingly with full confidence that I would follow him or even be able to keep up with the long strides he was making that I wasn't even sure were making contact with the physical ground.

I did, though, even though I wasn't able to walk quite as quickly as him.

I expected the restaurant to be staring at me as I walked out, I was even beginning to wonder why they hadn't called the police already considering the noise and the fact that as far as they knew I had just smashed up one of their urinals and now tried to maim a poor innocent door.

No one came, however, in fact no one even turned to look at me. Or not more than the casual glances I was accustomed to.

It should have been relieving but it was almost disorientating, I felt like I was navigating through some kind of warped reality. People weren't on the same page as me, they didn't see the shadowy figure that was gliding after us with a weapon in it's left hand as it speeded through the dimly lit pub space past the booths and straight towards us.

The door flung itself open in front of Death once more and I followed him as he left but was almost falling behind. He was too fast and even though I understood people weren't noticing whatever the hell was happening here I couldn't get myself to awkwardly go running out of the pub.

Instead when I made it out I started running and it was then that I realised the figure behind me was a lot faster than I was, the only reason it hadn't caught up with us yet was because there was something thick and black tickling it's legs, latching on and letting go, collapsing into nothing but vapour that disappeared and reappeared, slowing him down.

"Shit!" I yelled out as my foot snagged on a tile sticking out on the uneven sidewalk and I was set to go flying forwards. This is why people don't run in London. Even the coppers, it's a safety hazard.

Instead of falling, however, Death reached out and clasped hold of my hand before I could fall down. My legs still skidded across the floor as he pulled me forwards but his grip on me was so strong I didn't end up falling entirely. My feet finally started doing as I told them to just in time for me to hear a screaming tone come out of the figure behind us.

His hand was warm and tight. I had a fuzzy feeling in my chest. A nice feeling.

I don't know why, it was something Zackary and I had rarely done because it was a bit weird. I'd always thought it was uncomfortable, so had Zack, but this was nice. I could get used to this.

I wasn't sure if I was flushing because of the handholding or because of the creature chasing after us.

He was easily keeping up, the black mist had fallen away from him, in the full light of the day I saw that he didn't have eyes, just empty sockets.