Fear, and Loathing
It was completely dark outside at this point in the night. The main source of light were the streetlights which illuminated the large road.
Randolph ran at the side of the road. His feet pounded the pavement as he sprinted with all his might in an attempt to get as far away from the hospital as he could.
Fortunately, the suit he had chosen was black. That, combined with the dark of night, camouflaged him almost entirely.
The dark shade covered the red blood entirely as long as he buttoned up his shirt. It gave him the leeway to run, otherwise the cops would likely have been called already, though they were probably already on their way.
The area he was running in was partially residential, on a road connecting to a large highway.
Randolph was the very picture of calm as he ran, save for the heavy panting brought about by the exertion of running. His eyes were narrowed and his gaze was sharp, his breathing, while heavy, was level.
He didn't know why he was so calm. Maybe it was the multiple shocks over the span of a mere few days. Perhaps it was the despair he had felt in the pit. Or maybe, he had already prepared himself internally for death.
Whatever the reason, it gave him plenty of thinking room to brainstorm a way out of his predicament.
He continued running for several minutes – taking as many twists and turns as he could – before he saw a curb ahead of him. It was centered in front of the highway, yet still partially in the residential area.
At the curb sat a small bus stop, a shelter made of glass. It was lit by a single streetlight, the next one being a bit over ten meters away. Behind the bus stop, parallel to the highway, was a large stretch of pitch black forest.
Randolph only allowed himself to rest the moment he ran up to the bus stop, heavily collapsing onto the single seat.
He collected himself as he
After a minute or so of relative calm, he quickly pulled his clothes closer to his body.
The cars that sped by were travelling to the highway. They were going quite fast, so they probably wouldn't have been able to see anything, but he couldn't take any chances.
Using his reflection in the glass as a mirror, Randolph dusted his clothes off and made himself more presentable.
Blood entirely soaked the bottom of his legs, and a large amount had stained his upper body as well. A large amount of the fluid had soaked his white undershirt, and it would've been incredibly conspicuous if not for his coat.
But that wasn't the main problem. The few stains on his exposed skin could be wiped off or covered with his clothes. The main problem was the smell.
The smell of blood filled his nose as he sat there. It was thick and cloying, sticking to him. The problem wasn't a simple one to solve. What he needed right now was a shower, but the best he could come up with was to mask his scent by changing his clothes.
Randolph's watch told him that the time was well past early night, only a few hours away from midnight.
Tilting his head forward towards the street, the young man hid his face from the incoming cars as he recovered his stamina.
The calm gave him time to think and more importantly feel. His gaze constantly shifted to the ends of the street, searching for both the large incoming bus and the flashing lights of the police.
The slow wait drove anxiety into his heart, gripping it with an iron glove, but the dimly glowing orange screen that floated in front of his eyes calmed his beating heart. No matter what, as long as it was there, he had a feeling he could pull through.
It was during one of these moments that, in the corner of his eye, Randolph glimpsed a pale figure.
From his sitting spot on the bus stop bench, he could see a decent width from both ahead and behind him.
The figure that was standing there was completely motionless, which was why he hadn't noticed it earlier.
It was standing there quietly in the forest just directly right of him, a small ways behind him.
Shocked, Randolph's head whipped to the left. He shot up from the bench instinctively, his heart pounding like mad.
The pale figure that was standing there was just slightly behind a tree. Randolph would never have noticed him if not for the colour of his skin, which stood out against the backdrop of the dark forest.
While it was completely dark in the forest, the streetlight gave him just enough vision to see that the figure was a man. It was an adult man, perhaps in his early thirties, but the young man couldn't be sure as his features were too hidden in the dark.
The strangest thing about him was that he seemed to be entirely naked, merely standing behind the tree, facing Randolph.
A chill ran down the young man's back as he stared at the figure standing there. If it hadn't been for the glass walls of the bus stop, he would never have even known he was there.
How long has he been standing there? Is he… watching me?
The thought sent goosebumps travelling up his arm.
The only comfort that Randolph felt was from the constant flow of cars that sped by on the street. It meant activity, and that he wasn't alone.
"Hey!" After a few long moments of staring, Randolph broke the contest. "What the hell are you looking at?!"
His tone was loud and provocative, but the man didn't move a single inch behind the tree. He merely continued… staring. Or whatever he was doing.
"HEY!" Randolph shouted again.
His voice was made louder as it bounced off the glass wall. He was certain that the man should have been able to hear him, but he showed no sign of movement.
It was as if he didn't even acknowledge Randolph's existence. But how could that be so if he was staring at the young man?
The strange circumstance brought true, genuine fear into Randolph's heart. If he had merely been anxious before, he was currently on edge entirely. The events of the night didn't help, only serving to further boost his blood pressure.
But contrary to Randolph's expectations, nothing happened.
The naked man stood behind the tree, just barely visible, as he faced Randolph. Randolph stood in the bus stop with his fists clenched, the veins in his arms and neck bulging.
The two figures stood locked in a staring contest for about five minutes until the familiar rickety sound of a bus slowed down near the curb.
The presence of the bus brought great relief to Randolph, but it also brought in a large amount of light.
The light of the bus pushed back the darkness in the forest, allowing Randolph to properly witness the man's appearance.
He stood around ten to fifteen meters away from the young man, completely naked. His hair colour was dark, too dark to be made out in the backdrop of the forest. He had a long scar that ran down from his lip to his chest. While it may have just been an illusion of the night, his eyes were pitch black without any whites.
But most noticeably, he had a single interconnecting long line of stitches that ran through his body, looping around his torso and down his legs. The stitches were incredibly apparent against his skin. They were lined with what seemed to be blood, as if they had just recently opened.
Seeing the man, Randolph's face turned as white as a sheet of paper as he stumbled backwards, jumping up the steps to the bus door.
The man's appearance was vaguely familiar to him, but the stitches ignited his memory fully. The man was the very same one that had stood on the elevator with him at his apartment complex.
The scent of blood wafted into the bus as he entered, but fortunately for him it was fairly empty seeing as to how late it was in the night.
With shaking hands, Randolph took his wallet out from his pocket. Grabbing a fistful of random bills, he stuffed them into farebox.
"Close the doors. Start driving."
"Hm? You don't have to tell me twice." Raising his eyebrows towards Randolph's strange behaviour, the driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Huh? The hell is that?"
As he shifted about, his eyes turned towards the figure in the forest, still standing behind the tree.
"…You mean you can see him too?" Randolph felt a cold sweat damped the clothes on his back as he glanced at the man in the forest.
"Just drive! Go, go quickly!"
The shout brought the driver's attention back to Randolph.
Perhaps he had gotten a proper look at the pale figure in the forest, or perhaps he sensed the urgency in Randolph's voice, but he cooperated fully.
His face was stern as he pressed the button to close the doors of the bus, nodding as he stepped on the gas pedal.
The bus continued onwards, leaving the bus stop and the man behind.