A large shadow with a long coat and a fedora crosses the street, bumping into other pedestrians. He breathes heavily, and buries both of his big hands among the deep pockets.
-“Watch it, freak!” says a brunette tween girl with a purple sweater as the figure bumps on her. “Who do you think you are?”
The shadow speeds along as a second girl turns her around and makes her walk the opposite way. “Calm down, Irma” says the girl, pulling her friend away from the shadow. “He must be an undercover cop or something”. The first girl turned her head to see an empty street. No one walked on it, and no cars crossed. The figure was nowhere to be seen. “Wait, what?” asked the girl, turning her entire body around to show her friend. “The guy’s not there anymore…”
-“Irma, stop trying to scare me” said the other girl, twirling her bright ponytail around. “I think that movie did its job well”
-“No, I’m serious, April. The guy was just here, bumping on me, and now he disappears…” said the other girl, looking around.
-“This isn’t funny, Irma. He crossed around the corner. Let’s go home now. It’s late”
-“You go home. I’m staying here”
-“What? No! It’s midnight! Your dad will kill you!”
-“Whatever. I’m gonna go look for him”
-“Irma, stop being so stubborn! We’re going home, and that’s it!”
“Alright, alright. Just… don’t freak out. You’re gonna scare the neighbors”
The two girls walked away from the sidewalk, making their way toward the intersection. Around the block, the man in the coat was standing by a wall, trying to listen to the girls. “Phew…” he sighed, straightening his hat. “Next time I’ll get Leo to do this”
He kept walking, looking down at the floor, trying to hide his greenish face. Often, he would raise his face to see if there was someone coming his way, just to avoid what just happened with the two girls.
A banging noise interrupted his busy moving.
He turned around quickly to see where it came from. At the far end of the alley by his right was a wooden door, which had two windows next to it with their curtains down. Ripped screams came from behind it, as if someone was being tortured.
“Aw, for fuck’s sake!” yelled the figure, as he bolted down the alley towards the door. He stopped as soon as he reached it, sighing in desperation. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his leg and kicked the door as hard as he could. It wobbled as the foot left a hole in it. The figure kicked it again, this time making its planks creak open, revealing a messy living room.
Inside was a teenage boy lying on the carpet. A much larger man was grabbing his shirt collar, looking as if he was about to smack him in the face. The boy looked miserable, pleading as a thread of blood rolled down his mouth.
“What the fuck?” cried the larger man as he stood back up, staring at the figure. “Who are you? Martha, call the cops!”
His shirt was greasy and looked very tacky, revealing a large pot belly. He had a stout face, with a second chin hanging below it. Accordingly, his words wobbled as he spoke, sounding like a tired drunk. “Martha, call the damn cops!”
“You know what I hate?” asked the figure, dominantly approaching the man at a slow pace. The man opened his eyes wide and gulped heavily. He backed up, falling on his back.
“Stink-faced bullies” said the figure. The man began to plead for his life, as he tried to get up from the floor.
“Let me show you how much” said the figure, raising his fists.