Myth Hunters

Chapter 1: Police Station

"Get outta here ya little rat!" An angry man with a broom came at me. I tried to run before he whacked me but it was too late. I had gotten hit about a few times before I finally got out of range from the man with a broom. The angry man with a broom. I learned before to never, ever, no matter what kind of shit you are in, piss off a man with a broom. They are brutal and ruthless and merciless. 

"Aww is that how you treat every guest. Maybe you should try to be more modest." He glared at me and picked up a broom. He gave me a look that said you better leave now before you regret staying. "Okay okay. Geez. I'm going just stop hitting me with a broom and maybe I can mobilize myself." I spat back as an answer to the look I had just received from the man. That probably wasn't the best idea but he didn't seem any madder than before. I got up and started down the street at a walking pace. 

"Maybe next time you'll have something worth the while for me," I yelled back. He picked up an empty can and chucked it at my head. I ducked and turned to run. 

I like to piss people off. It's a habit of mine. It's funny and entertaining. Plus living in the streets it's not exactly like I have a ps4 or a T.V to watch. So I do alternative things. I don't go to school because, well, I tried and no school would accept me. Said I had to have a parent or guardian. I don't have either of those. 

I walk down the cold streets, rain being relentless falling like its never fallen before.  Just my luck right. Cold ass rain just pouring on my parade. I walked for what seemed forever. Something  I usually do. I don't have a place to stay so I find one. Walking along the rough pavement that looked like a sidewalk but in the night, and covered in rocks and weeds, it's hard to tell. I walked until I found an abandoned building. Abandoned buildings were usually my forte since no one goes in and there not being used, they serve purposeful to me. All I had with me as I walked was my bag. In my bag were a few things I collected over the years. Some knives, charms, stolen wallets and IDs. Some stuff I had stolen form people over the years. I mean I have to make a living somehow right. But the most important thing to me, my gun. My gun was in the back of my pants, or at least what I thought of as pants. My shirt, over the gun, hiding it away from curious eyes. I had stolen it from a police officer. Once when I was arrested for stealing, I was taken to a police station so they can find my parents. I had told them it was a lost cause but they didn't listen. One officer stayed with me, and being the pickpocketer I am, I decided a gun would do me good. At first, I didn't know how to use it but I had a lot of time on my hands so now I know the whole anatomy of my gun and how it works. My shit is pretty good considering I'm self-taught. I only aim if I mean to kill or feel like I have no choice to but defend myself.  I read that from a book that I borrowed from the library.

I got up to the building. I pulled out my gun just in case I needed it. I just didn't feel right. Something in the pit of my stomach told me not to go in but I was desperate for shelter. If I didn't get out of the rain soon, I would probably get hypothermia. And yes the building may have created that feeling but being on the streets for as long as I have, you learn to always go with your gut feeling.

 It was only a one-story building with walls that's were grey and vines grew up until the reached the top. It looked like it was a possible abandoned police station but with everything faded and torn up, it was hard to tell. I walked up to the already broken indoor and stepped through my boots crunching on the broken class. As I got into the building, I looked around. Yup. A police station. Or what was left of it. I thought. 

With my steady in my hand, I walked through the police station making sure no one else is there just so I know I am completely safe. I soak through what use to be the front of the station and start my way to the back. I check thoroughly and make sure I am alone. Thankfully I am. I even struck a bonus. I found some ammo that matches my gun and a shower that works. What luck. I stuff the ammo into my bag and headed for the showers. I needed to get out of my clothes and I'm pretty sure I haven't had a shower in nearly a month.  I quickly undressed looking down at myself. Damn, did I look like a rugrat? I couldn't see my face because there wasn't a mirror but I do t think I would've wanted to anyways. I turn on the shower putting into hot, but not too hot to where I shock my nerves. I happened once and now I have no feeling in one of my hands. The warm shower feeling nice and the locker room quickly feeling with steam. I was surprised the water still works, but this is a police station, they probably have a generator somewhere.