Collision Course [+ Additional Levels]

Level Ten - Unhappy Reunion

A lanky man wearing a deep purple leather jacket over a black sweater walked through the city. He made many turns to make sure he wasn't being followed. Despite the forecasters predicting a thunderstorm that evening, he didn't have an umbrella on him. He kept his head down as he walked across a street with a crowd of people, his sweater's hood pulled up. He avoided physical contact with anyone as he walked onto the sidewalk. When he made it to the other side, it had started to sprinkle. Suddenly he made a left turn, straight down an alleyway. Rain patted his hood, and tinked on the metal rails of the fire escapes attached to buildings. Puddles began to gather on the pavement, so his wet footsteps echoed in the alley as he walked through. He halted at a shabby gray door to his right. Faint bickering voices wafted through the door. The hatch that enabled someone to look through the door was closed. He glanced down both sides of the alley, and he reached up and knocked.

The voices immediately quieted. The man waited. The hatch abruptly slid open, and two black beady eyes squinted and stared at the man.

"Who dares knock on this door?" a scratchy voice demanded.

The man tossed his head back and shook off his hood, revealing purple hair and exposing his features.

The beady eyes widened, and the skin around them visibly paled. "Man, haven't seen you around for some time." The scratchy voice spoke almost with a tone of awe in its voice.

"Well? Are you going to let me in? Or am I going to have to let mysself in?" the man hissed.

The hatch snapped shut. Multiple clicks sounded from the other side of the old door, and it swung open. A short silhouetted figure stood, holding open the door.

"Come on in."

The man stepped through the doorway, and the figure closed the door. He glanced at the other man, and took in his appearance. The other wore a simple magenta sweatshirt and sweatpants that wore their own sets of faded stains, and scuffed up tennis shoes that looked like they were far past their expiry date. His hair, which lay like a curly mop on his head, matched the color of his clothes—minus the stains. He was rotund, his eyes squinted a lot, his nose was round and turned up, and he had rosy cheeks—all of these characteristics gave him the slight appearance of a pig.

He stared back at him. "Man, you haven't changed one bit!"

"Neither have you, I ssee," the man replied, with a note of disgust.

The magenta man grinned. He turned his head, and cupped his mouth. "Hey! Greeny! Guess who's here!" he shouted.

"Who is it?" they heard a voice call from another room.

"It'ss me," the man with the purple leather jacket called back.

For a moment, there was no reply. Then laughter sounded. "There's only one person on this planet I know that has a hissing voice like that."

The chubby man laughed. "I know, right? Get in here!"

They watched as a man appeared in a doorway on the other side of the room. He wore a zipped up hoodie, ripped jeans, and shoes that were only a little less talkative than the chubby man's. He was taller than the other two, but, like them, his clothes seemed to favor a single color. His spiked, combed-back green hair matched the color of his clothes. Oddly, he wore black sunglasses indoors, concealing his eyes. No comment was made on this though.

"Nice to see ya, Coily," he greeted with a nod.

Coily sighed. "You too, I guesss."

The green man smirked. "You were never really one for greetings, were yo—"