Brutally rough draft of ideas
The rain hit his face in stinging pelts, mixing with the tears that he desperately tried to hold back. It mixed into his clothes, such as they were; drenching them, slowly but surely, forcing him to move; to run, and run and run, to keep from...shivering, trembling, whether from the rain or from...
He ran; fighting back his pathetic crying, as much as he could; heading toward...nowhere.
It was really, really cold.
The screaming seared inside his mind, as much as the welts did, physically on his arms and shoulders. It hurt...so much, that he could hardly even...think good...
He shook his head, and looked down the alleyway. Darkness, all around, and darker still down wherever they led. Behind him, he wasn't sure if he could still hear the footfalls, but just because he couldn't hear was no reason they couldn't still be coming. He ran down the alley, then another, then another.
The rain was falling even harder, the further he went, so much so that it was getting hard to see. The street lanterns overhead, their lights glittering starkly against the slick black pavement, cast strange shadows, with even the ever-present glow from the cityscape beyond seeming to dull, in contrast.
The streets, even the back ones, all but deserted in this kind of weather. So why did it feel like others were still following him?
What did it matter, though. He might be young, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew enough to know that there was no protection, now. No comforts, no friends, no sweets, no nothing; that was all out the window the moment he had struck back, gotten half of hell beaten out of him, and then cut and run to survive. Now everything was going to be...on his own; and even more pain and misery, making the old seem like a stupid park walk, unless he..."got it together"?
The tears threatened to pour again, and again he resumed his pace, even while failing to really hold them in. It was what was; life was life.
Besides, that feeling was there again, that they were still coming, even after all this way.
He made it down more alleys; past more turf, no doubts about it. "The packs" roved these areas, when gods help you if didn't know the right people, couldn't squiggle out of the wrong spots; or couldn't run fast enough, if you couldn't. They roved and watched, watched for weakness that you should never ever show, just like the animals they were; animals with the face of people, all of them...
Footfall, behind?? He thought he heard it, anyway, and that was enough to stick close to the walls, even if it poured even more cold gutter waters on him; try to blend in with it all, no matter what was coming down from above. Better a slow sickness than what his...new neighbors... might do.
The sound was getting stronger.
He ran; fighting back his pathetic crying, as much as he could; heading toward...nowhere.
It was really, really cold.
The screaming seared inside his mind, as much as the welts did, physically on his arms and shoulders. It hurt...so much, that he could hardly even...think good...
He shook his head, and looked down the alleyway. Darkness, all around, and darker still down wherever they led. Behind him, he wasn't sure if he could still hear the footfalls, but just because he couldn't hear was no reason they couldn't still be coming. He ran down the alley, then another, then another.
The rain was falling even harder, the further he went, so much so that it was getting hard to see. The street lanterns overhead, their lights glittering starkly against the slick black pavement, cast strange shadows, with even the ever-present glow from the cityscape beyond seeming to dull, in contrast.
The streets, even the back ones, all but deserted in this kind of weather. So why did it feel like others were still following him?
What did it matter, though. He might be young, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew enough to know that there was no protection, now. No comforts, no friends, no sweets, no nothing; that was all out the window the moment he had struck back, gotten half of hell beaten out of him, and then cut and run to survive. Now everything was going to be...on his own; and even more pain and misery, making the old seem like a stupid park walk, unless he..."got it together"?
The tears threatened to pour again, and again he resumed his pace, even while failing to really hold them in. It was what was; life was life.
Besides, that feeling was there again, that they were still coming, even after all this way.
He made it down more alleys; past more turf, no doubts about it. "The packs" roved these areas, when gods help you if didn't know the right people, couldn't squiggle out of the wrong spots; or couldn't run fast enough, if you couldn't. They roved and watched, watched for weakness that you should never ever show, just like the animals they were; animals with the face of people, all of them...
Footfall, behind?? He thought he heard it, anyway, and that was enough to stick close to the walls, even if it poured even more cold gutter waters on him; try to blend in with it all, no matter what was coming down from above. Better a slow sickness than what his...new neighbors... might do.
The sound was getting stronger.