As cold as you

"Mum I'm fine, I'll be home soon okay."
Even though I'm usually at work a lot longer than this my mother still
Has it in her to worry. "I know. I just worry okay, I'm allowed to worry. I'm your mother."

There aren't many people out tonight, so I finished work early and the streets are as empty and the lifeboat tavern where I work. The only people out are two men and a woman smoking outside of the tavern and what looks to be a sleeping drunk lying on a bench ahead of me.

I sigh, walking past the drunk guy lying sprawled across the bench, a bottle in his hand and his tie undone. He whistles, clearly not seeing that I'm half his age, or maybe just not caring. Looking down at my shoes, I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing loudly.

"I know mum but it's like, nine o'clock. My shift normally ends at around eleven so don't......" I'm cut off by a scream from somewhere close by and I stop walking, looking around in terror. The people who were smoking outside look around too, confusion clear on their faces.

When the high pitch wail comes again, an all consuming dread takes over me and over rides any other emotions I may be feeling, other that fear. A small part of me knows that I should do something, go and get help. But the rest of me just wants to bolt. Run as far and as fast as I can, away from here.

Oblivious to what's happening on my end of the phone, mum picks up where I left off. "Okay, okay, I get it. Just be home soon, and be careful okay. I love you."

"Okay mum, I won't be long." My voice is only just above a whisper. "Love you too." I hang up the phone, still looking around. I don't want to worry her more, she's too paranoid as it is. If I told her she would probably end up forming a massive search party to find me, even though I'm not even lost.
There is another bloodcurdling scream, filled with pain and terror. The sound sends a wave of dread through me but the one thing that keeps going around in my head is that I have to help this person, I have to.

When the scream sounds again I run towards the sound, determined to help whoever I'm running too. I know this isn't exactly the best plan in the world, and I know I'm not a superhero but I don't know what else I do. If I call for help I don't know how long it will
take them to get here and find this person and by the time they do this person could be dead.

Everything blurs as I race past the shops and cafe's, my shoes slapping hard against the water slicked pavement, the rain stining my eyes. I'm going way to fast and stumble, tripping over my feet as I crash into the pavement below me, scraping my hands and knees as I go down.

I don't even register the pain as I get up off the floor, brushing myself off. I stand there for a minute, listening intently for any sign of the screams owner.

The night is as silent as the grave. If you weren't listening out for something then you probably wouldn't hear anything, but when I concentrate hard I can just about hear a faint sobbing and the murmur of voices.

Following the voices I come up short when they seem to be coming from behind the libary. Of all of the places I would have thought a murder or torture sesion would have taken place, the library was definitely not at the top of the list.

When I start moving again I make a point of staying in the shadows, crouching down and hugging the wall like they do in old spy films, careful not to make any sound.

I stop at the edge of the building and stick my head around the corner, keeping my body close to the wall, not wanting to get caught by whoever the voices belong to. What I see sends a fresh wave of fear through my body that threatens to send me running.

A tall, hard looking boy, no older than nineteen, with white blond curls, covering his eyes from view; a square jaw; a slit for a mouth; and skin so pail he looks like a porcelain doll, stands next to another boy who looks the spitting image of his 'buddy' down to the last hair. They must be brothers.