Stitched Back Together

Chapter 7

Hyde ran frantically down the street, stumbling over his own feet. He swore to himself under his breath, leaning up against a wall for a few split seconds to try and catch his breath. The rain poured down on his burning hot face, causing a bit of steam to rise off him. His coat and hat had long been discarded, his plain white shirt, now soaked through, clung to his skin.

He hadn't expected the cops to come breaking down the door that fast, the only thing he could have done was run. If he had stayed he would have died. He was still a wanted man, he couldn't stay still like this for long. Jekyll had resigned to the back of their mind, giving no input on anything. Hyde cursed under his breath, the least Jekyll could do now is help them not get killed.

Hyde forced himself off the wall with a groan, his sides ached and his breaths came in ghasps, but he continued onward. He half ran and half jogged, trying to keep an eye on his surroundings. His overly fluffy ginger hair made him easy to spot, and even with the pouring rain the two strange horn shaped hair tufts he had stuck up. No wonder people thought he was the devil, he thought sarcastically to himself. He was nearing the edge of town by this point... the cops would probably expect him to skip town and make for the border...

He looked around the street and darted into the yard of a house that looked long abandoned. It looked like some rich person's vacation home, but the paint was chipping and everything looked a bit rotted. He looked around, none of the windows were open or anything... "Ah fuck it." He muttered to himself walking up and trying the knob to the door, which to his surprise opened. He laughed to himself, "Stupid rich people. Forgot to lock their damn door before they left."

He held back the urge to slam the door behind him, instead closing it quietly. He took a few steps back, still looking at the door. This would be a good place to lay low for a few days. It was away from the public eye, near the edge of the town, and the only houses around were empty summer houses for rich people who liked going to the coast for a few weeks. Most importantly it was away from him. Hyde sighed letting himself relax for a second.

He heard a floorboard creak quietly behind him, he froze, feeling his blood run cold. Before he could whip around and attack whoever was there, he felt an arm grab around his torso and hoist him into the air like he weighed nothing. A large hand clapped over his mouth not allowing him to make any noise.

His limbs were left free, and he flailed and kicked his legs, using his arms to try and pry the hand from his mouth. All attempts were futile, the realization of how far he was off the ground also began to set in. How tall was this bastard!? And how strong was he for that matter-?! Hyde felt himself shaking slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He was tired, he couldn't keep something like that up, his sides and legs ached. Even if he did escape this person's grasp, what could he do? The cops were after him, he would be after him soon too- he couldn't run much further. He was screwed either way...

He couldn't stop a few tears from running down his face, he didn't want to be crying but he was overwhelmed and couldn't force himself to stop. He furrowed his brow and mustered his strength to deliver one hard heel kick to what he assumed would be his captor's groin. Even if it didn't do him any good it would make him feel better... but to his shock it felt more like he kicked their stomach.

He heard the person ghasp, a little taken off guard. "Please- stop struggling-" they whispered. They didn't seem aggressive, it was more a plea than anything. "Oh god... what do I do now-?" They asked, more to themselves than anything. 'Let me down maybe?' Hyde thought to himself sarcastically. Hyde looked down at the floor, he was way above it. Estimating to himself as best he could, he guessed his captor's height to be over six- no seven- probably eight feet tall. He felt his heart sink, first the cops, now giants? Looking at the hand clasped over his mouth it was... strange... The flesh seemed a bit yellow, but Hyde chalked it up to the light playing tricks on him. What he couldn't excuse away was the fact that it was covered in stitch marks, like his flesh had been sewn together. He tried to convince himself that the person must be a fighter who was recovering from some hand injuries.