21. Pretty Sights & Crazy Delights

261 11 2
                                    

He was running.

Down shadowed London streets lit only by the street lamps that left wide spaces of darkness between them. However there weren't any street lamps along the alley he was running down.

"Light," he hissed to himself. "Need light."

Light meant vision. Light meant seeing who the hell was chasing him. Light meant safety. The footsteps behind him didn't slow at all, a constant pace echoing in the alley. The sound didn't vary, a constant pattern that was almost scary on its own, never mind the fucking laughter.

A sharp, gleeful sound that bounced off the walls and echoed all around him. The psychopath was enjoying this!

Heavy pants passed his lips as he grew tired. He had to keep going! Just a little further, he could see the light! His hand reached out towards the end of the alley...

And suddenly the light was gone with the sound of shattering glass.

"Whoops," whispered a soft, unapologetic, taunting voice from ahead of him. "How careless of me."

More crashes and the other nearby street lamps were destroyed and the light within killed. He ran out of the alley and looked left and right, making a split second decision and turning left towards the next still-lit street lamp.

He nearly tripped as he saw a figure standing on that glowing salvation. A dark silhouette balancing on the toes of one foot on the lamp. The figure was still, unmoving... just watching him approach. He was nearly there! Nearly safe!

Just as he entered the circle of light, the figure smashed the lamp. His eyes widened in horror as shards of glass rained down on him. Darkness! Light ripped away just as he had grasped it!

He risked a glance over his shoulder but he couldn't make out the figure chasing him. He could see nothing but the rather distant glow of more street lamps. By now he was exhausted. He couldn't run anymore but he had to! He had to get away! His throat stung as he panted heavily, legs feeling numb from the exertion.

He could still hear the footsteps chasing him but they had slowed. Slowed to a steady pace as if the being were stalking him. He looked up but the figure on the lamp had vanished. He looked around wildly and forced himself to start running again to the next street lamp. No more lamp-smashing figures and his pursuer had stopped running so damn fast! He could still live!

The footsteps behind him stayed slow and they grew softer as he got farther away. He was going to make it! He was going to live!

The light didn't flee this time as he stepped into its ring. He leaned heavily against the lamp post, a hand against his racing heart as he once again tried to make out any view of his pursuer. The footsteps were still there, still a steady pace.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

Closer. Closer. Closer...

His eyes widened as a boy dressed in all black slowly became illuminated by the orange glow. He was smirking widely, dark hair swept to one side. He twirled a sleek black walking with a silver snake's head as a handle in his hands, his black tailcoat and other attire telling of his wealth and high status.

"The hell is this?!" he screamed, watching the kid's smirk widen. "Who the bloody hell are you?!"

"Now now," the boy whispered, walking closer. He didn't move. It was a kid, how dangerous could he be? "Haven't you heard the phrase silence is golden?"

"I asked who the hell you are!" he growled, now feeling much braver seeing the childish face of the shadow that had chased him. He drew his little pocket knife, pointing the blade at the boy, "Answer me!"

The Queen's PantherWhere stories live. Discover now