With how the nerves played through the skin, in the dusk of a cold night, eyes unseen, but the eloquent they are there, are never far away, in totaling the fear. Slowly in pace, still the blood to death on end, tinting the skin a lighter shade, of death it is seen.
On a wise change of turn of the events of it, on key to a corner, fading into the shadows with ease, while watched in qualms breathing; heaving vomit pits of air.
Not long soon, the figure came and went. Silence played its part, for a second or so, having sheens of cooling sweat fall down on bare flesh. Hands near the sides of the being, flexing out and in, to ease tension within one, little it did, was good enough.
Though the thin paper blade that broke through the shrubs, quick in step, missed the thick veins that tiredly pulsed blood through the neck and shoulder area, letting a voice release a curses with a bitten tongue following it, heated hotly compare to the cold night body.
Following soon another blade came in fly by, pinning the deep red fabric of the hat to the tree nearby. Leaving another cuss come and go; leaving nothing else grabbed the hat with the blade in tow, running through the thickness of the shrubs, only hearing the whisking echoes behind.
â€œYou just donâ€™t when to quiet do you . . . I can handle a game like this . . . cat and mouse it is.â€
Another maze of rotates, soon the cat was off the trail, while the mouse made another escape. Fleeting only thought, that the game was won, until another blade nicked the man in redâ€™s shoulder.
â€œYou have been great in sports!â€ The man in red yells one way, soon cutting in another way, upon finding out of the park, finding the rolls of buildings, heading down a certain number of buildings before going down one, only walking backwards slowly, just in case.
A low grunt left his lips, eyeing over his shoulder to see the person following, noticing that the other had a dislocated shoulder, bended fingers holding the blade near his neck, body so still, thinking this other man was breathing was hard to tell.
â€œYou are a hardcore kind of guy, I know some people would love to have you on their side, though I have a feeling someone had gave you a good deal. Right, I have to be?â€
With the quick grabbed, the man in red lost feeling his other side of his arm, while eyes widen when seeing the blade coming near. Not sure of what to do, seconds to spare, using his free arm to shield, letting the blade break down through the skin. Using to fear his long red coat; as a blind cloak to smoother the other, breaking free of the hold, sliding the blade out of his arm into the otherâ€™s chest in the seconds he could.
Though so far, the man in red, lost of how he got loose, but he choose not to look at lady luck being kind now. Before ramming the other body into the closet wall, arm locking the otherâ€™s neck, using his other hand to knocked the head against the stone, as hard he could while the other tried to fight back.
Having the feel of the warm blood run down his arm, while seeing in the struggler before him, slowly calmed down, letting the body fall to the ground. Removing his coat from the other, caring less of the smell of iron on it, soon in step pushed the blade farther into the body, when seeing it flinched to reach out to the other.
â€œDr. Mine is up to strange things again. Sending a youngling like you after me . . . he is really smart and his old age is getting the best of him.â€ The man in red stated, crouching to the body, looking through the clothing for something, not what he had in mind but some spare weapons and blank sheet of paper, with nothing on it.
The man in red, made no comment about it, even to just grab the otherâ€™s head by the hair to knock on the ground, when seeing the other move again.
â€œYou just canâ€™t stay down, can you? Dr. Mineâ€™s work as it is.â€
The man in red shook his head, in disbelief, sparing the moment to crumple up the paper and tossed it away, when seeing it was the other was going for. Hearing it landed on the ground, with a ruffle thud. Leaving just the man in red going back to the weapons, eyeing each blade that would likely sell well in the pawn shops, for reasons he thought fit.
â€œYou got good taste . . . will you just stay down!â€ The man in red gave a shout, but not fast enough to see the person grabbed the blade in his hand, tossing the blade to a water shoot not far from them, cracking the metal, the water falling just as quickly.
Working his mind fast, he bolted out the alleyway, just in time for it to go up in smoke, the outburst of stone and such run into dust. Awaken a good amount of the neighborhood, not wanting to see that aftermath, he ran.
Long gone, with his mind running wild of what Dr. Mine was up too, in aiming to get rid of him.
Not knowing that someone also left the alleyway, limping for the most part, glazing to where the man in red headed off, about to follow, but heard the horn going off in a certain tone, having the man turn to face it.
â€œNext time, we have to go, now!â€
Once again, glancing over again, but calling it quiets. For now, the night is still young, and the man in red, wasnâ€™t the thing to handle.
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