Like an undead rockMature



Have you ever had to cling to a wall with no hand or footholds and listen in to a conversation going on in your old bedroom before?


Well it's more fucking difficult than you'd imagine.

It's alright for about ten seconds of clinging to the bricks; but after that ten seconds, my fingers start to ache, my whole body is as tense as a strung bow and the sun on my back is a little more than uncomfortable.

"Huh," Mickey grunts, "shoulda got here earlier. I was kinda looking forward to having a good fight." Thanks, man. I love you too.

"Hey, just ‘cause you weren't great friends, there's no need to be such an insensitive prick," Connor mutters, pushing past him to the window. I didn't think I could get any more tense, but I just proved myself wrong.

"I'm not being an insensitive prick, I'm being realistic. The longer he survives, the more likely it is that he'll figure out how to keep away from us. He knows all the tricks, right?"

"Of course," he mutters, agreeing just to shut him up as he opens the window. I freeze. He pokes his head out of the window, looking around. The voice in the back of my head, the human rationality, is jabbering away, high pitched and frenzied - what the fuck are you hanging around for? Move!

Only I can't. I can't seem to make my body move and as Connor's eyes meet mine, a numbness sweeps through me as my heart races painfully fast. It seems like time has slowed and that one second feels like an hour, just staring, stuck there.

"He's out here!" Connor yells after a moment, disappearing back inside and time catches up again. As Mickey swears, grabbing one of my knives, I let go of the wall, falling like an undead rock to the pavement below. I land with a loud thud in a crouch, surrounded by people with surprised expressions. I don't stop to pick up my shoes, running as fast as I can down the road. I don't even know what direction I should go in. I don't know where to go and now I have a pair of hunters on my tail.

A couple of minutes later, I hear a shout and the screech of tyres as a car shoots down the road. I look around and see Mickey leaning out of the window, a gun in his hand. "Shit!" I yelp, bolting down an alley between a couple of houses away from them. There's a loud crack, and a bullet buries itself into the ground just behind me. 


The End

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