Stolen Souls (boy x boy)

d another psycho is

ere, in this abandoned school, ducking through the crumbling halls and shredding first-gra

ey douse the school in hot light. The man's footsteps are slow and deliberate, cl

myself, yo

m of my jeans and pull down my sweaty sock. My ankle is white, inhumanly white, blue veins racing just below my skin like silk threads. I swa

mbling fingers, I tuck my rose behind my ear, my breath so h

kle at the end, like he's playing with me. Because he is playing with me. My drawing tablet lies flat at

Please, Lord in Heaven, not this. My leg can't be going dead on me. Not here. Not now. I swing the Batman-button-covered knapsack over my shoulders, the weight of textbooks sending me t

layers of duct tape and show you the bullet holes in my window. I can't think

This is

mold. Draw up a breath, pray quick and pra

rabbit, I sure must look intimidating. The flickering above my head comes quicker, more violent this time. I am sh

limbs fall asleep; they don'

a killer weren't nearby. And all I can think is that my life isn't supposed to end this way, here, away from my friends, alone, a part of something I'm ashamed of. Me, fourteen, not even old enou

be blood. Can't they try to

f. The place reeks of rust and rat droppings. Pink Graffiti curls around the remaining locker locks in an artist's swirling

ored in pieces in the grinning, glittering teeth of a bear trap. My throat clamps up. Teardrop petals are scat

llow

ab it, the iron hook bent at an odd angle and the hood just a wire frame st

brella dangles in my grasp and I clutch it hard. I don't want to use it as a weapon. Not only because it'll make a sucky weapon, but because

r, leg dragging. Another bear trap snaps shut, triggered

e to explain to my parents how I lost them in an abandoned school building, but I'd also have to explain how I go

remble with happiness, enough to squeal. There it is, a shimmery nameplate on a rusty steel door: the janitor's

er toward it. But I miscalculated the angle of the door and how much of me I c

he grou

rled up so my knapsack takes the brunt of the impact inst

on't be my drawing tablet. Be a

e alone in the dark. Exposed. Vulnerable. My leg twisted at an awkward angle and my poo

want them to look for me. I don't wa

down my skin. Someone chuckles behind me. The chuckle of a serial killer, if seria

to take, heart plunged in my gu

ed, screwing the non-violence thing, slashing at his arm more like a lil' kitten than a lil' bunny rabbit. I thrash and dig my own fingers into my neck to push him awa

he says. I scooch back on my butt and the man yanks me toward him by my ankle. I can't s

y is bent on killing me. Thump. Thump thump. Thump. Footsteps. My heart leaps. The ma

oice drones on, "smells

sinks underneath me and I slide back on it, kicking out my good leg to prop

o be mean?" Keep him st

finds its way into my hair and under my nails and my mind can hardly process it all so fast, only offering me 'crap, crap, crap, crap, ' i

kill me? Why is everyone trying to kill

y arches up and slams back down, all

d thick, it smothers me. I hold my breath and my head spins.

like a guy who's more freight train than muscle. He snatches up my arm and shoves me clear across the floor so I

t's from

squeak and gasp. But the people hold flashlights, and through the darkness, I see the man, well, kid, clearly. Teen, lanky, tall. His straight black hair tumbles over his ears, his eyes a g

as f

d with fangs who wants me dead, this smoke driving the air from my lungs, these shouts of strangers outside the closet I'm trapped in. The boy gives me

ature s

e of his mouth. He spits out. The umbrella drops. The flash of sudden red in his eyes, the

uscle. I'm a mess, my shuddering breath, violent tremors, and frigid sweat to prove it. Still, I fix him with a steady look, sh

ed hits my raised hand

! What the

pping mind-numbing panic attack. I'm not high, my brain says over and over again, I'm not high. M

string of spit flies. Lying there, gasping, I glimpse chunks of something shiny swimming in my blood. Glinting cluster

eir thighs. They point their flashlights at the fanged creature. The light is a dark purple, in

howls and t

uggling to breathe. "UV light, " a smooth voice offers. I can't see

d we

janitor's closet, dragging me across the broken tile floor in a

ust idea, even if it meant getting some of that sweet, sweet elixir of the gods. I'm about to smi

ntire sleeve covered in blotches of red that keep growing and growing. I'm too slow, still wheezing, still

lder. My head hits the floor. I can

t, " huffs

, " says

smooth, easy flow of words. The deepness. The tinge of

Cerv

io partner.

self as I drop fr