Post by SPENCER SMITH CHACE on Apr 12, 2010 10:06:24 GMT -5
Breathe boy, just breathe
It had been a week since Spencer made his way to London. He was last in Liverpool until he managed to get a ride down here by sneaking onto trains, vans etc. He couldn't take the risk of being seen. The demon clan are still after him, five times now he has had to fight his way away from them and each time it gets harder to get away. He's tired and wore out. All he wants to do is sleep. However how can he do that when the clan are following his every mood.
He missed the days where him and his twin sister would hang out at the coffee shop under their flat and waste away the day. He missed reading his geeky comics and drawing. God he even missed arguing with his family. "Family" Spencer muttered to himself. Its been more then 2 years since he first ran, and 2 years since his whole family died at the hands of the clan.
His heart started beating slowly at the though of his family and seeing the replay action shot of his sister being killed.
The streets of London where a mess with people busily walking / speeding past him in the streets. Spencer was wearing a black trench coat with black jeans and boots. His hair was mattered and he looked like he hadn't had a good nights sleep in well forever. He kept his head down as he kept getting knocked about by the people busily moving past him.
He couldn't sleep. Every time he did, all he could see was his family and the clan. He needed to find help. For the past two years he had been going from place to place trying to find help. Nothing worked. He didn't know pretty much anything about being a slayer, him and his sister were going to learn. That was why they came home to tell their rents about it and that someone was here to help them. However after what happened Spencer never did.
This is why he's in London. He heard talk of a place that helps people like him. He always found it odd that people would laugh at him when ever he said anything about slayers like he was crazy.
Spencer's head begun to hurt, all the people, the noise and light it was getting too much for him.
He needed to rest. He pushed his way through the crowds of people making his way to a alley. It smelled of dead fish and... sweetcorn...
"Breathe, breathe god damn" He yelled to himself as he made it to the bottom of the alley. The sounds of the busy streets faded as he leaned against one of the walls of the alley and slowly lowering himself till he was on the floor.
"Breathe" He closed his eyes trying to fight back tears. His head now resting on his knees that were pulled up to his chest.
He yelled in anger as he punched at the ground a few times before letting out a little cry. "Breathe"
The alley went on for quite a stretch, it had a lot of other openings and dumpsters dotted around. Somewhere, some thing was watching the slayer. Its eyes burning red, its teeth sharp as razors and its hunger ready to fest.
