Bikes & Blood

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈.

"Immortal fear, that voice so clear.
Through broken walls, that scream I hear."
-Cry Little Sister by Gerard McMann

Rain pattered against the bitumen of the empty car park. Soaking the clothes of the four men that lurked within the shadows-waiting like that of a pack of wolves. The lights of the boardwalk licked against the shadows and yet, not even the blinding lights dared to creep into the darkness. Thunder rumbled ominously out upon the sea, lightning flickering across the sky and, despite that, the four figures didn't stray from their spot within the shadows.

Monsters didn't lurk under your bed in the town of Santa Carla. They lurked within the serenity of the night, slinking through the shadows without a hush of sound. A ripple of anticipation shot through the pack of four, blue and brown eyes alike brimming with excitement. The leader of the group, a snowy-blonde haired man with clothes as dark as the shadows he lurked within, quirked his head to the side.

Eyes as light and blue as glaciers watched the lights of the boardwalk turn off. Each light symbolising yet another nail within their intended prey's coffin, the silence of the night thrumming through the group of four's veins. They watched with predatory intent as each light went out and plagued the brightly lit boardwalk into darkness. A rumble of thunder filled their ears as the last lights of the rollercoaster switched off-darkness reigning supreme over the once brightly lit boardwalk.

The monsters of the night shared a look; a pair of blonde's disappearing around the corner of a shop front with a simple nod of their heads. Cheshire-like grins etched across their faces as they bled into the shadows of the night. Disappearing with a laugh that echoed across the night-laughter filled with everything holy and everything not, the laughter of two sinners satisfied with the chaos they evoked.

The two blondes shoved each other playfully. The dirty-blonde haired man snickered as the curly-haired blonde with a patchwork jacket stumbled-the smaller blonde's hazel eyes narrowing at his beaming friend. The hazel-eyed blonde dusted off his jacket, brushing past the taller blonde and down another alleyway. His boot-clad feet thumping against the floor as rain seeped into their clothes, lulling himself and his friend into a sense of calm.

The pair paused within the shadows of the deserted car park, watching from the shadows like that of a pack of wolves hunting their prey. Santa Carla's boardwalk was a place filled with light and life, a duo that was so intricately interwoven that it was almost impossible for it to be unravelled. And yet, darkness and death uncoiled the bindings between the two with ease-reigning over the coastal town dubbed as the 'Murder Capital of the World'.

A beige-uniformed security guard crossed the deserted parking lot, the neon-red arch of the boardwalk's entryway blanketed by shadows. The young man walked with an uneven jaunt, his defined shoulders straining against the fabric of his uniform as the pair of blonde's tracked his movement with malicious eyes. A brunette approached the blondes within the dankly lit alleyway, the duo turning to face the taller ebony-haired man as he inclined his head to the sky.

The brown-eyed Wendat man spared the young man a fleeting glance before he followed the two blondes into the inky depths of the sky. Turning their heads towards their platinum-blonde haired leader, who followed the security guard's movements with sinister eyes. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike as he blew out a breath of smoke from the cigarette within his gloved hand.

Lives were defined as moments in a town like Santa Carla. Some passed by quickly, while others dragged out like they were never going to end-those were the moments that many dreaded. But truthfully, lives are like sliding doors; when one closes, another opens.

You just have to open the right one.

Undivulged to the dark-haired man that crossed the parking lot-he had opened the wrong door and provoked the wrong beasts in the span of one night. Beasts who had mastered the fine art of blending in. Beasts who watched the man from the cloud-filled sky, waiting eagerly for their leader to give them any sign that the hunt had begun.