stuff

jack's switchblade

*note:
this has no context i just made this up on the spot. also count how many times I say "the man" 🤡
i also don't feel like editing or reading over this i wrote it in one sitting just to get the creative juices flowing y'know
don't bully me in the comments

"I think it's fucking bullshit, honestly," Jack said, kicking each rock his foot came across into the street.
"Shut the hell up dude," Danny whispered, following closely beside him. "He'll hear us."
Slowly, both boys turned around to the large man trudging behind them. It was the security guard for Jenson Movie Theatre, and he was escorting them out.
"I said, I think it's fucking bullshit!" Jack yelled it this time, his words followed by a chuckle and a punch to the arm by Danny's bruised wrist.
The two, after the security guard had gone, took a seat on the curb next to the Jamie Street sign. Across from them, the sun was beginning to set, and Danny had to think about wether he wanted to go home or not tonight; had to think about if he'd rather sleep on the street or be beat to death for going to the movies anyway by his mother.
"Oh, let me show you something," Jack said quietly, beginning to dig in the pocket of his khaki shorts. "I got it for Christmas."
With the click of a button, the little silver rectangle he dug from his pocket spit out a blade, the name Jack W carved onto the shiny part. Jack admired this with pure awe.
Danny backed up a bit. "Who gave you that? Who the hell would trust you with a switchblade, Jack?"
Jack clicked his tongue. "My uncle. He just got out of a three-year county jail sentence, so I'm not really surprised he gave me a murder weapon." He smiled.
"Murder weapon?" Danny scoffed.
"Oh, sure," Jack replied, bringing the knife up to Danny's throat. "Blah— right now. But you know I wouldn't do that, right? Not just to you but anyo—"
"I get it, dude." Danny grimaced. He stood up and dusted dirt from his shorts. "Let's get you home, alright?"
Jack hopped up and began to skip down the street, twirling the switchblade in his fingers. Danny kept distance, quite terrified now.

The sky— yellow and orange with cotton candy clouds— slowly faded to silver. The stars began to sprinkle themselves into the picture and Danny knew he wouldn't be going home that night.
Expectedly, they walked close together. Having just turned onto Eddie Street, they knew they'd eventually encounter someone (or something, of course) along the ten-minute walk down the crooked road.
"They should just demolish this whole neighborhood," Danny whispered, grabbing onto Jack's arm. "I heard there's been more, like, murders on this street than anywhere in the state."
Jack held tightly onto his switchblade. "I know you're scared, Daniel, but please shut the fuck up until we get onto Perrymore. Please."

Three minutes passed and they were walking practically tied together now, Jack wielding his blade and Danny wielding a rather sharp stick he found on the ground.
"We're going to die, Jack. It's almost ten o'clock."
"Shut the hell up, dude."
"I'm serious."
Jack inhaled shakily. He stopped walking and turned to Danny, his hands grasping both of the shorter boy's arms.
"You're fine, alright?" He breathed. "If anyone's killing anyone, it's going to be me."
Danny opened his mouth to reply, but shut up quick when something stepped out from the trees.
It was a man; the worst of all.
Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Danny's heart nearly dropped out of his ass.
"Stay back, creep," Jack threatened, his shaking hand pointing the knife at the man who he really knew he had no chance against. "I'll cut your ears off."
The man only laughed. Danny thought he sounded like Predator.
"I won't hurt you, little one. I promise," he said. "I just want your friend, alright?"
Jack's heart began to race. Slowly, he stepped in front of Danny and continued wielding his switchblade. "Listen to me, fatass; you're not getting him."
Although Jack couldn't see his face, he knew he'd angered the man. He nearly dropped his blade and could've blacked out due to how much this terrified him.
The man began to charge towards them. He was the size of a bull. Jack assumed stabbing him with the knife would be like stabbing him with a blunt needle.
Large hands grabbed him by the arm and shoved him out of the way. Jack tripped and tumbled to the ground with a grunt, his head slamming against the pavement.
"Jack! Holy shit, Jack!" Danny began to scream as the man grabbed him by the shoulder. The grip nearly broke skin, causing Danny to scream even louder. "Get off your fucking ass, Jack!"
It was then the man— more so creature— began to tear at Danny's polo, struggling with the kicks Danny brought to his stomach and crotch.
"Jack!" Danny screamed again. He was weak and this was all he could do.
The man dug in his pocket and pulled out his own switchblade. His gloved hand held it to Danny's throat. Danny could feel it barely split open the delicate skin on his neck.
"Shit, shit, shit," Danny muttered, the tears burning his eyes. By now, he'd given up thrashing his arms and his kicking.
The blade against his throat went deeper into his skin until suddenly, the hand dropped it.
It fell onto the ground beside Danny's head.
The man then collapsed on top of his body.
"What the fuck?" Danny whispered, pushing the body off of himself.
He stood up and squinted his eyes, examining the body in the light of the street lamps.
At first, he couldn't find what caused the man to collapse. He began to think it was a heart attack or stroke, but then he saw the blade with the glistening Jack W.
It was crooked in the fat neck. The man struggled for a moment, flopping around like a beached fish before going unconscious, his blood spilling like maroon molasses onto the concrete.
"Fuck, Jack," Danny said, his voice shaking like a leaf.
Jack stepped in beside him. "I killed someone."
"You killed someone, Jack."
"I killed someone, Danny."

After Jack took back his switchblade and wiped the blood off with his shirt, they began to drag the body through the darkness of the night. It took hours until they finally reached a river they could dump him in.
The two used all of the strength in their skinny arms to pick him up and over the metal barrier separating the road from the water. After many grunts and near broken tendons, though, they managed to tip him over.

"You're the murderer we were worried about, dude," Danny whispered as they began to walk away, his finger grazing the cut on his neck. "You're fucking insane."
"I don't want to talk about it, Dan," Jack replied, twiddling his thumbs. "Only when the fucking police come knocking at my door and I get jailed for life— God, I even promised grandma I wouldn't end up like Uncle whatever the hell. I'm fucked, Danny."
   "Okay, okay." Danny pursed his lips. "Well, maybe you are, but maybe we can think of an excuse. And if not, like, you're tough, dude. You can survive prison for life, right?"
   Jack thought for a moment. Then, he shook his head.
   Danny frowned, swinging his arm around Jack's shoulders. "We'll think of something, alright? We always do."

*note:
ok i gave up
just a cute lil story of kids panicking and killing someone. as kids do
enjoy the cliffhanger(?)