The Truth Of Heroes

Terrifying

    Walking was exhausting, I was mentally done and physically sore and all I wanted to do was sleep.

    People stared at me weirdly, whispering among themselves.

    I was starting to get irritated, I kept hearing things like, ‘Oh My God’ and ‘she’s a mess’ or ‘her boyfriend probably dumped her’ and it was starting to piss me off.

    I turned a corner into an ally, walking into the shadowed space away from the people.  

    “What happened to your hand?” A low, gravelly voice scoffed out in apathetic curiosity.

    I swished my head in every direction of the dark alleyway. The voice laughed, deep and shallow. It sent chills down my spine.

    “No need to be so scared, I’m of no harm to you.”

   A sound bounced off the walls. It was a clanking sound like something metal hit the cement.

   Then there was shuffling, the shifting of clothes, and a pained groan.

   The man was standing up, and his heavy footsteps stomped the ground sounding the clank of metal with each step. 

    Slowly the man came into view, and he was terrifying.

   He looked geared up for war, knife, and sword sheaths attached to his body in every convenient place.

    He had a shredded red scarf and a cream mask that was almost completely falling off. He was dressed in all black, his baggy pants torn and his cream arm wraps tangling as they unwound. It looked like he had been through the blender.

   He had cuts all over and other injuries that made me cringe.

   I tried to step back but I was rooted in place, I was far too scared to move. 

    “You have blood all over your hand. Is it your blood? Or someone else's?” He coughed out, his voice dangerous.

    “What does it matter?” I asked, my voice shaky as I tried to swallow the rock-forming in my throat.

   The man let out a humorless chuckle, tripping over thin air as he stumbled towards me.

   He leaned heavily on one foot, rocking back and forth on his heels. He took a deep breath before trying to take another step, but he fell to the ground as soon as he put pressure on his injured ankle.

    I stared wide-eyed as he writhed on the cement, I could feel the ghost pains just from watching his wounds twist.

    Slowly I kneeled down on one knee, if I have to run I can jump up easier that way.

    “What happened? You need an ambulance!”

    “No. No hospital. This is nothing.” 
“Nothing? Look at you!” I glanced about his body, examining all the wounds I could find.

   I went to stand up and reached for my pocket but a hand on my ankle kept me from moving far. 

   “No ambulance.” 

    I nodded numbly.

   If he didn’t get some help he would die, if I have to lie then so be it.

   “Ok. No ambulance.”

   His grip never let up, even though I made sure my tone was reassuring. His fingers were still squeezing my ankle in an almost bruising fashion.

   I don’t know what to do.

   He won’t let me go and I was starting to panic. 

    “Take me to your house.” His horse voice choked out the words before a coughing fit surged his chest.