Keith ran for his life, and soon his breath caught up to him, his muscles ached and he was sweating at a miserable rate. He didn’t want to look back, as he knew that would only amplify his fears. The sound of the footsteps of both the men synchronized, though buried by the rain, but Keith could hear each step and with each step he felt his predator was getting closer. He didn’t understand anything. He saw that man every other place he himself went to. At the soccer match, at the basketball game, in the market, this time, by the phone booth. That same man, with that same black fedora, along with black trenchcoat, neatly covering the black fullsuit the
gentleman wore, contrasting with the white shirt. And on top of that, a lavender tie that swayed with murderous rage (read: Kolaveri Di). That same man, holding in his left hand a steel knife; sharpened to its utmost capacity, with a wooden handle, as he gently played it between his fingers.
This time, the nightmare didn’t end at playing. Standing by the phone booth, the man grinned at Keith, baring his crude yellow teeth, and gripped the knife tightly by the blade, slowly piercing his palm. As blood slowly made way through his palm, gliding through his fingers and dripping on the ground, blood flushed from Keith’s face as he stood there, paralyzed and could already feel the blade making way through his chest.“
“Hello, Keith.” The grin got wider and soon, the man couldn’t control his temper and chuckled. Keith stood there, baffled. He knew his name.
“How long do you plan on avoiding me? I stood by watching, hoping you’d come to me, but that won’t be happening I guess.” Judging by his voice, Keith guessed he was in his mid thirties, yet he wheezed like an old man.
“Yeah maybe you coulda’ put down that knife and surely I’d have gravitated towards you.” Soon Keith wished he didn’t reply at all. Sweat streaked down from the nape of his neck and sent chills down his spine as he was surprised how he could even talk at that moment.
“What? I didn’t comprehend that. Whattaya say sunny? Put down THIS KNIFE?” The grin vanished from his face and the man lifted his head to face Keith. He was red, fuming with rage. Keith could see his face, scarred with.. well, scars. The man had stunning yellow iris that aimed at Keith as if trying to tear him apart telepathically. At least they managed to tear his composure.
“WHAT’D YOU SAY?! PUT DOWN THE KNIFE?!?!!” His whole body quaked as his hands gripped on the blade harder, blood gushed from his palms and Keith stood there, astonished, horrified.
“Um.. Look, bro; what’ve you against me?” The curiosity seemed to kill Keith.
“Oh sunny, I’ve everything against you. And now you say to put down me knife. There ain’t no way I’m letting you go.” Doing a fascinating roll between his fingers, the man held his knife by the handle now, raised his arm, pointing straight between Keith’s eyes from a distance barely 10 metres away. “Run for your life, kid.”
Enough said, as Keith glided off, not knowing where he went wrong, but all he knew was there was a guy who wanted his ass on a platter. Rain pounded heavily and Keith ran against the wind. It seemed as if nature tried slowing him down so he could get closer to his fate. Yet, Keith didn’t want his life to end. He had much more to live for. And he was going to live for it.