sundae-belle
I stepped onto the 3:15 metro bus. Just an average day, on my way to work. Usual humdrum and melancholy of the morning commute. This little old man with flowers in his hand came shuffling up the aisle. Hunched over, he carefully lowered himself into the seat next to me.
The creature rose from the ground, turning it looked at me, death in it’s eyes. I had failed to kill it the first time, and now it would surely will kill me. Bracing myself for it to leap I reached back and grabbed my knife from it’s holster.