Razor Ripple


He bared his yellow teeth at me as he swung his knife from above at my face. I skipped back with my hands ready to retaliate. Again, he swiped and I ducked out of the way. His stubby arms swung around flaccidly but with unnatural precision. Like a viper his arms darted as I grew tired I managed to kick him away but up again he rose, never seeming to grow tired.

My legs felt strain that even in my adrenaline fueled state I couldn’t ignore, I needed to finish this now.

Like I had almost a dozen times before, I darted left as he stabbed right but instead of backing away I pounced. I gripped my knife with all my strength and shoved it into his leg. The blade plowed through his stained jeans into the thigh flesh which gave away with a sickening squelch. It was complete enveloped into his leg with only the hilt visible.

Astonishingly, with only a minor hesitation the man let out a roar and punch me off removing the knife which was still held in my iron-like grip. I rolled to the curb but he was once again upon me, slashing and charging with the same intensity.

It isn’t human, it couldn’t be.

I crawled in desperation, my feet scraping on the concrete. I felt a blow on the side of my abdomen that knocked me onto my back. I wheezed and suddenly felt wet. I got up and ran a distance before I fell down.

Had I fallen in a puddle? As I tried to get up but my body failed, it was covered in blood. But was that his? I looked down to see a 6-inch blade protruding from my gut.

This… is it, I resigned myself. I remember.. my mind raced over all the useless problems I had been worrying about and stopped at the thought of my mother. I… have to… survive…

The thought was interrupted by a cackling that slowly became louder and louder before.

I was grabbed by the shoudlers and as the maniac sat on my chest still laughing.
“You are worthy, you are worthy, you are worthy!” He shouted over and over again as I drifted and out of consciousness.

Pulling the front of my shirt, he shouted in my face, “WE WILL BE ONE!”

Out of instinct, I thrusted my head forward to vomit only to have my forehead collide with his mouth. The stench of rotting fish and sulfur errupted as his teeth fell from his decomposing gums.

Not even a momentary indication that he felt a thing he continued laughing.

“Down to business.”
With a quick movement he slashed my face below the eye. My sight become misconstrued as my blood flooded into my right eye.

“The face, the face,” he whispered into my ear in an almost comforting tone.
His pudgy cheeks touched mine, as he licked the open wound on my face.

An intense burning scorched across the wound into my temple. A dark mist rolled in from the outskirts of my vision which consumed all even the mad soft whisperings of my murderer which faded into nothing.

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