Page 3 of All Your Pain

Three men are covered in shadow, a little way down the alley. There’s no sign of the hostel, not even a door, just grimy brick walls and some long forgotten dumpsters overflowing with trash. A small spark of panic rushes down my spine as I realize I really am lost in the seedy outskirts of a city I don’t know.

One of the men is sitting on the floor, his legs spread out as he leans back almost like he’s sleeping. He must have taken something pretty strong to be able to sleep in a place like this.

The other two men are braced up against the wall, the tallest one holding the other up against it by his shirt. It’s so dark I can only make out their silhouettes and a small glimpse of the tall one’s face.

“I was really hoping you’d last longer than your friend but I guess my fun’s over pretty quickly tonight, huh?” the tall man says, his voice is a low purr that makes me shiver in a new exciting way.

As he takes a step back he becomes drenched in moonlight. I try to stifle the gasp that comes from seeing how beautiful he is in this light but I end up stumbling slightly around the corner and the two men’s heads snap my way.

The tall man is dangerously good looking. He’s so tall I know I’d have to look up if it was me pinned against that wall.

God, how I wish that was me.

I've never even held a guys hand before let alone been passionately thrust up against a wall like that.

His body is slim but athletically built from the way he fills out his clothes perfectly. Tight, black jeans and a dark, leather jacket. His side profile was elegant enough with sharp features but now that he’s looking straight at me, I’m hit by his piercing stare.

Bright blue eyes peek out from under pitch black hair that hangs over his forehead. As he stares at me, a wide smile creeps onto his face, one that looks like it belongs to a wild animal. One with fangs and claws ready to sink them deep into its prey.

The look he’s giving me should make me run but my feet are frozen to the spot. Out of fear or something else, I’m not sure.

He cocks his head to the side as he croons, “what do we have here? A cute, little kitty cat skulking around alleys? No need tohide. Come join in the fun.” He beckons me over with a wave and something glints in his hand.

A sharp looking blade shines in the moonlight and even from here I can see just how much blood is coating it.

Then the whole scene in front of me comes into focus.

The man slumped on the floor is dead, or close to it, blood pools around his legs and his stomach is a bloody mess of guts spilling onto his lap. I scream and quickly press my hand to my mouth so I don’t throw up.

“Call the cops!” the man held against the wall shouts, bringing my attention back to him and the blue eyed man.

They’re both covered in splatters of blood but somehow I know none of it belongs to the man holding the knife.

He’s still staring at me with that wide grin and his hand twitches where he’s holding the knife like he’s desperate to gut me next. That thought scares me but not as much as it should.

Every second he’s staring at me makes my body come to life. It’s like there’s a pull and I need to move towards him to let his hands roam over my skin and his teeth to mark me.

No.I shake myself from whatever dark thought that was and stay rooted to the spot.

“Come here, little kitten, let me see you.” His voice does something to me that I don’t understand. If I believed in the supernatural I’d think he was a vampire or something just as deadly, but this is the real world. There aren’t any monsters, just bad people.

“He’s dead, you killed him,” I say, almost numbly.

“Looks that way doesn’t it?” he smirks, like this is all fun and games for him.

“Why-why did you kill him?” I ask, my voice small and shaky. Maybe he’s not the ruthless killer I think he is, he could have been defending himself.

His eyebrows lower but his smirk doesn’t disappear. As he tilts his head to the other side, he looks at me from head to toe and I swear there’s a flash of something hungry in his eyes, like he doesn’tjustwant to kill me.

My heart starts to race and my body heats up even in the cold night air. I try to ignore the twisted feelings fighting for attention inside me.

I need to run and find help. If I’m quick enough I might be able to save the other guy at least. He looks beaten up but all his organs are still inside his body, unlike his friend.

“If I told you I killed him because I enjoyed it, would you scream?” he asks, his voice suddenly sounding husky. I bite my lip so I don’t make a sound and shake my head. If I need to keep quiet to get out of this alive, I can do that. “We’ll see.”

Without taking his eyes off me, he swipes the knife out to his right and it plunges into the side of the man’s neck.

My feet get tangled up on themselves as I start to back away and I trip, falling down onto my backside. As I scream, the man puts his other hand on top of the knife's handle and drags the blade, severing the guy's throat so deeply that his choked cries cut out completely. His body falls to the floor, his eyes wide and glassy. If there is any life left in him it’ll be gone in a matter of seconds from the rate that blood pours from the nasty gash onto the cement.

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