Status: Done
Bones
Bones
The boy sat motionless on the stone which seemed the only feature of the grey backstreet ally way – his eyes blinking sparingly, his pupils large, focusing on the wall opposite him. His breath quickening, as if the air was getting less concentrated; he found himself worrying, something was wrong.
He looked around behind him, and there behind the rock which he sat lay sprawled on the floor was the body of an old man. The man’s body looked relatively fresh, was he sleeping? A blue vein above his eye sat still. The boy leant forward, his arm reaching out in front of him ready to check for pulse.
His hand landed gently on the man’s shoulder, it was damp, and upon pulling his hand back in recoil, the boy noticed a green slime come back with it. The old man’s eyes opened – his face focusing on the boy.
“Hello,” said the boy quietly, “are – are you okay?”
The man with the same unconscious expression gazed solemnly at the boy – his attention never diverting.
“Sir?” the boy asked concerned, “Sir?”
Without a seconds notice the man leapt forward, his physical movement defying what was preconceived; his forceful stout body landing on the boy heavily forcing him to the ground. The boy tried to shout out for any type of help available, but the screams of help were drowned out by the man’s elbows, getting forced deeper into the boy’s mouth.
“You like bones boy?” the old man asked viciously.
Not bothering to wait for an answer, the old man continued, talking over the screams of desperation from the flailing boy.
“I’ve always had a fascination for bones - I could share that fascination with you if you like? But or that I need my knife, and a couple of your ribs.”
He looked around behind him, and there behind the rock which he sat lay sprawled on the floor was the body of an old man. The man’s body looked relatively fresh, was he sleeping? A blue vein above his eye sat still. The boy leant forward, his arm reaching out in front of him ready to check for pulse.
His hand landed gently on the man’s shoulder, it was damp, and upon pulling his hand back in recoil, the boy noticed a green slime come back with it. The old man’s eyes opened – his face focusing on the boy.
“Hello,” said the boy quietly, “are – are you okay?”
The man with the same unconscious expression gazed solemnly at the boy – his attention never diverting.
“Sir?” the boy asked concerned, “Sir?”
Without a seconds notice the man leapt forward, his physical movement defying what was preconceived; his forceful stout body landing on the boy heavily forcing him to the ground. The boy tried to shout out for any type of help available, but the screams of help were drowned out by the man’s elbows, getting forced deeper into the boy’s mouth.
“You like bones boy?” the old man asked viciously.
Not bothering to wait for an answer, the old man continued, talking over the screams of desperation from the flailing boy.
“I’ve always had a fascination for bones - I could share that fascination with you if you like? But or that I need my knife, and a couple of your ribs.”