The alley taunted you as your shoes stomped against the concrete, running for your life. This wasn't how you were going to die. You were supposed to grow old. To live. Not to die- not to die to The slasher!

He only killed bad people right? Why was he after you then?!

You turned the corner only to see a deadend.

You heared the scraping of an axe. Your stepped away, your back hitting the wall before he turned the same corner, showing himself.

The same man who had been murdering people in the city, people you knew, people you thought you could trust.. people who turned out to be cruel.

His wooden mask splattered with blood, his jacket soaked with sweat and blood as well.. his axe shining with it. Didn't help he was shirtless under that jacket.

He slowly approached you, towering your form. He placed both hands on the wall behind you, leaning into your face, tilting his head.

You could smell the sweat, the blood, the musk.

And he just stared.

And stared.

And stared.