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Chapter 2

My first indication of trouble should have been the neighborhoods reputation. Seventy percent of the crime in the city happened across six blocks. This was one of those six. This wasn’t my first walk around the block however, so that factor went unappreciated. My second indicator should have been the lack of other pedestrians, less witnesses meant people were more likely to do stupid things. There were normally more people around, even this early in the morning. The third indication of trouble was the amount of attention I was getting from the witnesses that were present. I never should have gotten far enough to notice curious looks from people sitting on the steps in front of their apartment buildings. I still didn’t care, I’d walked this route dozens of times. Apparently I had been very lucky before.

I didn’t notice the first follower I picked up, or any of the others. My music was loud enough that I couldn’t hear my own footsteps, let alone anyone else’s. I was in the custom of listening to the pattern of footsteps behind me, if they match too closely I was likely being followed, but never out on the street. The first thing I actually noticed that was unusual was the sudden pain in my back as the world suddenly tilted upright.

Someone had kicked me in the back, even with my backpack protecting me, it still hurt. As did falling face first onto concrete. My earbuds fell out when I hit the ground and both the sounds I’d been trying to avoid and the ones I needed to hear now flooded in. I could hear the voices of the people circling around me. I was pretty beat up. I could feel the sting of newly formed cuts on my face, but that was far from the worst part. The worst part of it all was that I was too afraid to move.

“Take his backpack and turn out his pockets. I can’t see what it is, but he’s got something on him.” A man’s voice ordered. He must have been the man in charge because my backpack was ripped off of my shoulders and my pockets were turned out.

I didn’t mind losing my backpack so much, not even my mp3 player that had been in my pocket. My phone however, the one in the pants pocket opposite to my mp3 player, was new and likely the last chance of survival I had. No phone, no police. At least that’s the way it worked in this neighborhood. Even that didn’t matter though, not as long as they didn’t care that I was still alive.

“What should we do with him?” A different voice from the first asked. That question pretty much destroyed my prospects for staying alive.

“Obviously the kid doesn’t have it on him, so take him into that alleyway over there and keep an eye on him.” The man in charge sighed. “I’ll get ahold of the freak.” The apprehension in his voice had me worried. If the kind of guy that didn’t hesitate to beat up and potentially kill a kid on the side of the road for no reason was afraid of someone… then I was afraid of that someone too. I was afraid of even the implication that he might be coming within murder distance.

I could hear the grumbling of the second man as he threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the alleyway like I didn’t weigh anything. I could faintly hear one side of a conversation taking place back on the street. I was placed back on the ground, more lightly this time. At least this guy had the decency not to just drop me, of course that didn’t make him any less a part of what was happening. The sound of a flip phone snapping shut marked the end of the short conversation.

“You called?” It was the eeriest voice I had ever heard. There was no audible anger, or any emotion in it, but it terrified me. I would, at this point, rather face the violent man that had kicked me to the ground than this new guy with the creepy voice.

I tried to move, but my body didn’t respond, I was frozen. I couldn’t even open my eyes or my mouth to plead with the man that had carried me into the alleyway.

“Looks like that deal we made payed off, eh? He’s got something and it’s good, right?” The man who I’d first thought was in charge sounded like he was fishing for a pat on the back.

“Show me to him.” The eerie voice said calmly. Whoever it was was met with a choir of laughter from the three or four other people on the street.

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“We did the dirty work here, I think we should discuss compensation before we just hand over this valuable kid.”

“You want a prize for your hard work? Fine then, enjoy the greatest gift I have to offer.” There was silence for a second broken by the sound of soft heavy objects hitting the ground. “Eternal peace.”

I had an inkling of what was happening from the conversation and I wasn’t feeling too good about my chances of survival. The man that had carried me must have been watching what actually happened, because he ran full speed down the alley. It wasn’t long before the echo of his heavy footsteps faded away and were replaced by a slow, soft clicking echo.

“Albert William Carroll,” The eerie voice echoed in the narrow space of the alleyway. The way he said my name was strange, like he was reading it off a sheet of paper and was curious about who it belonged to. “I have come for your...” It was right about then that something clicked and I could move again. I wasted no time in doing so.

I jumped up and ran in the same direction as the man that had just fled. I barely made three painful steps before I was cut off. If this was the man with the eerie voice, his appearance definitely matched. The man didn't look young, but not really old either, maybe in his early thirties and was too well dressed to be a resident of this area. He was wearing an all-black suit down to the vest, which was hardly distinguishable from his black shirt and tie. Even his bald head was topped with a black hat. He was the embodiment of every dark shadowy figure a scared boy could imagine. So much so that the air around him seemed to turn black and billow to the ground like heavy smoke.

“You cannot escape Death, Albert,” The man sighed. “And seeing as I am...” I didn’t bother to stick around and listen to him lecture me about what I could and couldn’t escape.

I turned and ran back towards the street. I needed to reach a populated area. As I ran back out of the alleyway I was shocked to see that all my attackers lying down, apparently dead, on the pavement. I tried to ignore them but the image was burned into my memory as I ran farther away. I didn’t feel sorry for them, after all they were the ones responsible for the pain that seemed to be coming from every fiber of my being, and I didn’t want to end up like them either. I pushed through it all and burst out into a populated street.

The people that went around with their everyday lives didn’t seem to notice me. I was nothing but a breeze blowing out of a bad neighborhood to them. Wherever I stood they seemed to look around me, walk around me, giving me a distance befitting a leper. No matter what I did, I couldn't get the attention of anyone. I could have sworn one particularly preoccupied commuter walked right through me, but it was probably just the whirling chaos of panic in my mind.

I dodged my way through the crowd of people, fighting the current to get back to my apartment. If no one was going to help me, then I’d board myself up in the only place that felt safe. I missed a crosswalk light and stumbled into oncoming traffic. The cars didn’t stop, didn’t swerve or honk, they just flew by around me. By some miracle I made it across and there was only a short sprint to my apartment building left.

My flight had been successful up to the point I reached the front door to the apartment building. My key had been in my backpack, which was back with my unlucky muggers. I exhaled what air I had been apparently holding in my lungs this entire time and slumped forward to rest against the door. My mad dash had been useless. I was trapped in a rapidly emptying street, and something told me that the man in black wasn’t far behind me.

“Mr. Carroll, you did not honestly expect to escape me, did you?” The eerie voice said calmly from behind me. “I am Death after all.” Somehow that last bit didn’t register completely.

I turned and rushed the man. I wasn’t much of a fighter, I’d never been in a fight in my life, but what else could I do? My first attempt to tackle him resulted in an aching shoulder and a dull numbing sensation in my head. I balled my hands into fists and began to swing wildly, but it only looked like I was hurting myself, because this guy wasn’t even flinching.

“Quite a fighter, I see.” The man sighed as though he’d been let down. ”I will be honest, it is a pleasant surprise. I have not had to deal with a rebellious soul in a while, but unfortunately you will not last long at the rate you are going.”

I ignored him completely and continued to punch away. Each punch left me exponentially more tired, like just being near him was slowly killing me. My last punch turned into a grab to keep my balance as my legs gave way beneath me. He brushed my hand off his suit coat like a stray fleck of dust and I crumpled to the ground completely out of energy and very literally mere inches away from Death. I could almost see my life flashing before my eyes, but it all went by too quickly.

“Please, I don’t want to die,” I finally begged. “I’m not finished yet.”

That may have been what I said but it was a mask for the truth. It’s not that I just didn’t want to die, but I’d wasted my life. I’d barely lived and now that I realized it was over I would do anything to stay alive.