Killer Instinct

Chapter 1 - Kieran

I leaned against the wall of an abandoned building. The rain pelted him as me stood there quietly lost in thought. Where are they...? I sighed. What's wrong with me...? About ten years ago, my family just... disappeared... I was only fifteen, and before I left to look for them I grabbed Dad's knife. I had looked everywhere... but couldn't find them... and they never came hold.

I rubbed the edge of the blade, now slightly rusted because of how old it was, but still sharper than ever. Rain trickled down my face from my dark hair and into my eyes. I shook my head, making the water fly off of my head. I watched as people rushed by in an attempt to get away from the coming storm. Lucky them... they had a home to go to. I get to be stuck in the rain. All well. I'm used to it, now. Not like anyone cared anyone. Even my family abandoned me. No one talks to me or anything, they just stare at me and keep walking. Assholes...

My little sister, Ridley, would be 12, now. Jaxon would be 35. He was my half-brother, though. His mom died during childbirth, and then ten years later Dad found my mom, Leslie. They had me and named me after Dad, and so it used to get confusing when Mom would say 'Kieran'. Sometimes both of us would answer at the same exact time, and we used to laugh at that.

People walked past me, casting me short, disgusted looks before looking back in the direction they had been heading. I used to hate them for it, but I didn't really care anymore. It's been 10 years since anyone showed me they gave a shit, and as far as I know, they abandoned me, too. So they probably didn't care either. I felt an emptiness in my chest, but it felt almost normal, now.

I played with my father's blade, flipping it in and out of its little safe case and sliding my fingers across the cold, smooth side. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and shortly after a flash of lightning lit up the darkening sky. I sighed and turned away from where everyone else, into the alley behind me. It smelled like rotting food that smelled more like shit than anything and alcohol. I sat on an old wooden and looked at the blade.

I almost laughed at the thought of anyone missing me if I just... disappeared. No one even knows me, or cares to know me. The closest interaction I get with anyone is when some random dickhead decides to pick a fight. I looked back out to where the people had been rushing out of the rain. The streets were almost empty, now. I dragged the blade across the inner part of my forearm, starting at my wrist and bringing it closer to my body. I sighed and watched as warm blood dripped down my arm and into the damp soil, then closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the building behind me as I started feeling lightheaded and my vision got blurry.

I heard a voice nearby, and ignored it. I wish people would just shut the fuck up... The voice sounded again and I reluctantly opened my eyes and looked around with blurry vision.

There was a girl with long brown hair looking at him. She was wearing a denim jacket over a black shirt and jeans, holding an umbrella over their heads.

"Hey, can you hear me...?" she asked quietly.

"Just go away..."

"I..." the girl looked down at the ground, then without another word knelt down next to him and he felt pressure on the cut he had made.

"What the hell are you doing?" I groaned. She was making it hurt when it seriously didn't have to.

"Trying to help..." he voice was slightly shaky.

"I don't want your help... just go..." I tried taking my arm away from her, but I couldn't, whether it be because she was holding it there or I just couldn't move it anymore.

"I'm not just going to stand by and... and just... let you... die... I... I want to help..." for a moment, I thought she actually sounded genuine, then quickly pushed the idea away.