Bogeyman

The night was still. The air was neither hot nor cold, the wind didn't blow in any direction. To a human eye, time would appear to have stopped. Everything and everyone was still, even the rain had stopped pouring in sheets. If anyone wanted a photo, now was the time to get it.

Gavin Butler lay on the ground, his nose was bleeding, the crimson liquid dripping over his lips, which he licked, before pulling a disgusted face at the taste of his own insides. He sat up and spat on the road beside himself, glaring up at the cloaked figure that had thrown him off. This mystery that had intervened and probably saved Sean from a violent beating, had turned to face Sean and Ian. A pair of pale hands reached up and pulled the hood of the cloak down, revealing a familiar face.

Matt Davis-Kreye stood before the pair. His lips formed a thin line and a frown creased his forehead. He was joined by more hooded figures, who stood off to the left, each one taking their hoods down and revealing their true identities.

"What is this some kind of cult?" Gavin spat, scrambling to his feet. He walked around Matt, coming to stand beside Sean. It was the number one rule within the pack, if one is threatened, they all were, so they had to band together and fight, no matter how much each individual hated the next.

"You know exactly what we are, Butler," Matt wrinkled his nose as he said Gavin's name. The word was like a sour taste dancing across his tongue.

"What do you want, Matt?" Ian asked, his dark eyes scanning across the sea of unmasked, pale faces that stood away from their leader.

"We just wanted to see that everything was okay in these parts. We heard about the tragic death of Gavin Burrough, so we wanted to see that things were still well down here."

"Well, now you've seen it, fuck off," Gavin hissed, wiping his bloody nose on the back of his hand.

"There's tension in your pack, and it's surrounding you," Matt pointed a gnarled fingernail at Sean, choosing to ignore Gavin's order.

Sean swallowed hard. He hated to be singled out, especially by someone he'd never met before. Matt seemed like he held a lot of power over his pack, possibly more power than John did over their own.

"It's got nothing to do with you what's going on in our pack. So do as Butler said, and fuck right off," Ian snapped, he stood forward, putting Sean in a shadow.

"Tension. It breaks a pack apart."

The silence that followed that statement was painful. Sean held his breath, watching both Ian and Gavin become angrier as the second passed. The pair of them glowered at Matt, and he simply looked at them, his face holding no emotion at all. His calm exterior was unnerving. He spoke in a soothing, slow voice, the kind to put babies to sleep, and he made no attempt at getting closer to them. He was frightening without meaning to be.

"So, are you going to leave?" Gavin asked, impatience lacing his tone. Sean knew he should be irritated by the mere sound of his voice, but in a way, it was comforting to have him there. Gavin was a decent fighter, and if the opportunity arose, he'd jump at the chance to create a few black eyes amongst the hooded strangers.

Matt said nothing, he simply looked between the three men, his gaze landing on Sean. One of his followers, a man with long black hair stepped forward and spoke up, "master, I think we should do as they ask."

Matt nodded. "I agree, Darran. We are not welcomed at these parts." He pulled his hood over his head, concealing his face from view, "Gavin, Ian," He nodded, before turning away, walking back towards his now hooded pack. And before Sean could start breathing again, they had disappeared into the black of the night.

"Who were they?" Sean asked, curiosity lacing his tone, as he glanced between Ian and Gavin. The pair of them wore looks of pure hatred, their eyebrows knitted together to form scowls, eyes like slits, their breathing shallow and uneven.

"You don't even wanna know," Gavin spat, wiping his bleeding nose again, before walking off down the street in the direction of the warehouse.

Sean looked to Ian for the answers. He'd never seen his best friend in such a state. Ian was usually the calm and collected type. He voiced his opinions, but he rarely lost his temper. So this was a first for Sean. To see Ian look so angry was frightening.

"They're a part of my past that I'd rather forget about," Ian confessed, before he started walking in the same direction Gavin had disappeared in.

That statement had only made Sean crave more answers about these hooded strangers. He shook his head, jogging to catch up with Ian.

It was only then that Sean Smith realised, he knew nothing about his best and only friend.