Grendel looked away from Mike and Cathy as they went deeper and deeper into their kiss. As he glanced back at them, a disgusted look coming over his face. His eyes slowly fell down her backside until he found himself looking at things he knew that he shouldn’t. He turned toward the door and smiled a little. “I think I’ll head out, too. You two seem like you wanna be alone.”
They didn’t answer, each of them too deep in the other.
He got up and walked for the door, slamming it behind him.
Neither of them noticed or cared.
Jamie started to walk down the street. It was getting dark, and he lit up a cigarette and took a long draw. Then he looked down at it and got suddenly revolted with himself. He’d smoked for years. He knew what it was doing to him, why he was having trouble running the whole distance of the field now. He finished the smoke on the corner and threw the smouldering butt down onto the sidewalk, swearing to himself that he’d never touch another one of them.
He thought he heard something behind him, then started walking again, zipping his jacket to protect himself against the harsh cold of night. He could see his own breath as it swirled up around his head like a wreath.
A dark figure stepped out of the shadows behind him and stepped in time with him, squishing the discarded cigarette beneath his heavy feet.
Jamie heard it now, he was sure of it. The footsteps were getting closer and closer to him. He started to pick up his pace, and so did the second set of footsteps. He broke into an all out run, hearing the second set do the same, close behind him. He got to the end of the block and made a sharp turn, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. He got to the end of the next block and bent over from the pain in his side. He shouldn’t have gotten such a painful stitch already. He ran three times this far on the football field every day. Yet his lungs heaved, each breath brought agony, and he made a small grunt from the pain. He looked up, turning around to face his attacker for the first time.
There was nobody there. He searched the streets and doorways around him with his eyes, seeing nothing.
Suddenly, he started to laugh.
He stomped his foot down onto the black pavement, listening to the echo of the sound returning to him. He’d been running from noises, shadows. He laughed once more at his own stupidity.
“You’re losing it,” he whispered to himself softly.
He turned the corner and immediately bumped into a large, dark figure. The person was covered by a coat that seemed to be made out of shadows, with eyes burning bright with hatred as it moved toward him menacingly.
Jamie screamed loudly and took off in the other direction, but his stitch got the better of him again, this time right away. The shadow-figure grabbed him, and pulled him into the darkness. A dagger appeared from his coat and jabbed into Jamie’s right side.
Blood gushed from the treads etched into the sides of the blade, splattering onto the street with a sickening splashing sound.
As Jamie’s vision became hazy and he realized it was over, he stopped struggling against his killer’s iron grip. He fell to the ground, and the last thoughts to run through his head were that maybe if he had given up smoking just a little earlier, he might have been able to run just that little bit further...
Xander woke up at his computer, his hair a tattered mess.
He fell asleep on the keyboard like that often, staying online to the point past exhaustion. He wiped a bit of drool from his chin. His skin felt sticky and wet, like he had just gotten out of a bath of honey. He touched himself, and found that his flesh was clammy and warm. Glancing up at his screen, he noticed he had [email protected]. That was Sara’s e-mail.
He opened it and scrolled down through the prattle that headed most of her e-mails, more gossip about Theresa and Derek, along with a few other tidbits about who Julie and Tommy were dating now... Then he noticed a little sentence at the end.
Do you know where Jamie is? He was supposed to call me...
At the mention of Jamie Dawkins, Xander’s nostrils flared. He closed and deleted the e-mail, then logged back onto his usual chat page, rubbing his tired eyes. He felt as though he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.
He hated all of Sara’s (what was it Cathy had called them?) serial boyfriends. Sometimes he really just wished that all the Jamie Dawkins of the world would just drop dead.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar chime as someone online contacted him.
Hello Pinkerton, came the instant message. Xander looked at it and smirked. He hadn’t been called that in real life in years, but it had always made for an entertaining screen name.
Oh. Hi soul. How’s life? he replied, typing quickly.
Alright. I’ve been looking at something weird online. I discovered some kind of bizarre... thing. I don’t have a password decoder as sophisticated as you do, I thought you might wanna take a look at it.
Sure. What’s the site?
Something called engen.com. Oops. Gtg!
‘got to go’?, Why?
But he was gone, just as quickly as he had come online. Xander frowned. Soul had always specialized in finding weird stuff online. Weird government conspiracy videos, proof that the Moon landing was faked, the Paris Hilton video... This was probably nothing, but still, it was worth checking out.
But it would have to wait until morning.
He let out a long yawn, then got up and
