Of course, there are consequences to everything. That’s a thing I’m aware of, even as I whip around the corner of the building. I think, by now, that he knows I’m following him.
He isn’t the biggest man. He probably has some wariness towards others, I expect he’s not quite well versed in violence.
I’ve been following him for six blocks now. I know that he’s got a long walk, because it isn’t quite true to say I’ve only been following him for six blocks. I’ve been following him, on and off, for days. Bout a mile yet, before he’s home. Still walking reasonably briskly, not yet quite afraid. But he did turn up ahead, and that’s a warning sign, because this isn’t his route. He’s not detouring to see a druggist, either.
He just wanted to know if I would come around his corner. I did, too! He does a headcheck, and there’s a problem, because I’m grinning and my hands are up under my jacket and yes, that is a warm knife, smooth. I’ve been handling it for about an hour. Its Ceramic, and pink. Very pretty.
Anyway, this is going on, and we’re having a pretty good time here. He’s getting to that point where he’s rather sure I’m following him, and I’m rather excited. You know the feeling. I can hear each footfall at this point
Sort of a hair raised on your back, perhaps there’s someone downstairs at two am feeling. The bits of your childhood creeping back into your head, the parts about monsters and darkness, the problems with dark spaces under specific furniture.
You’ve felt this way before, you know, the way I feel, and the way he feels.
You probably don’t enjoy the way he feels, but if you do, you’re a bit like me.
Because the feelings I get are sort of a cascade of excitement and these other feelings. Which are a bit off. We’re not going to discuss my proclivities.
What we are going to talk about is how look, its dark out and I can’t really deal with just following him any longer. So I’m moving now, and I’ve gone and extended all of the muscles in my bare feet, risen up onto the balls of my feet, tasted the air, and started pulling it in in huge gasps. I can feel my muscles heat up, and the whole world sinks into just the bits of reality that matter, and there’s this wild thumping. The thumping is my heart going insane, because I’m not quite in shape for what I’m doing, which is really just the only way to move quickly. You know, sprinting.
Cause I gotta make it to him before he really gets going. Else it’ll just be hell to catch up. Look, there’s a knife in my pocket. I’m a little bit worried, its an “As seen on TV” with “sixty percent less surface area”
There were infomercials.
The thing is, they are full of holes. And if I’m going to vivisect the boy and peel his skin back in places, and feel his lungs fill up with smoke, and otherwise just have my way with him…
Well, there’s a worry, because look, what if I’ve got this knife in him, right, and the slice goes up, but as I rotate the blade, there will be some that can get inside the holes, and look, that’s not efficient lack of drag, that’s massive amounts of extra drag. Or there will be ribbons.
I’m not into either of those.