It felt like time slowed down when Ainsley realized that someone just attacked him in broad daylight! Like a rabid dog, an old man sprung out of nowhere and jumped at Ainsley. However, when the old man limped right after acting like a zombie, Ainsley finally managed to regain control of his body. Without him knowing, his arms had already shot out and grabbed the man by the shoulders.
"Hey, are you okay?!" Ainsley sat the man down on the street. The old man had salt-and-pepper hair and a very frail frame. He seemed to be one of those old men who continued to work after even getting past the retirement age. "Wait, I'll get some help for you—"
"…ghan…" The old man moved his head back and tried to make use of his unfocused eyes to take a look at the man before him. He couldn't move his entire body anymore, but his mouth started to babble a single word as if trying to say something. "Lene… ghan…"
Upon hearing the old man whisper something close to his name, Ainsley turned to take a look at the old man. With his phone in his other hand, he waited for an operator to receive his call. His gaze landed on the old man and saw that it was actually someone from their floor. This was one of the seniors Ainsley was working with.
Shock came to his senses. Not because he knew this old man, but because the man's face was graying like he was losing all his vitality. Moreover, blood had dried on his mouth from the loss of his teeth. Ainsley wanted to throw him away in fear, but his hand even clawed to retain hold. "Stephen, don't worry… I'll call for—"
The old man jerked hard all of a sudden, his body staying at a rather painful and impossible shape. It was as if his movement had broken his own spine or had caused him to harden right after getting hit by a bus from behind. As if frozen in time, he didn't even breathe or shudder. The only thing that could move was his unfocused eyes.
"Stephen?" Ainsley called out again, but he finally let go of the elderly and stepped back. His phone was ignored even if the operator was already on the line. Her voice was like a weird static that Ainsley's brain placed no attention.
The old man kept on following him with those unfocused eyes. At this point, even the bystanders and the passersby were realizing that something was wrong at the corner. Some would even start taking out their phones to film, only for them to regret it.
Bang! Ainsley didn't know how exactly, but he found himself falling over. Just a second earlier, the old man was just in front of him; the next, the old man was back to trying to bite his face. Moreover, the old man was making growling and howling noises as he whined while trying to overcome Ainsley's struggle.
"Stephen! Stephen! What are you doing?!" Ainsley's eyes continued to grow wider. Just last night, Sinclair confessed to being a monster; today, he was being attacked by Stephen who acted like a zombie in the movies. Even the crowd was shocked by the sudden turn of events. The phones were used more to capture the scene than to call for help.
Both of his hands were pushing against the old man's shoulders. He was actually trying to get his knee in between them, so he could kick the old man away. However, the old man—who was supposed to be as soft as a cooked egg—was stronger than three rabid dogs. His hands were even clawing at the ground as if trying to lock himself in place.
"Help—! Help me!" Ainsley started to call for help, but his voice was too weak against the growl of the old man. Soon, he felt his heart stop when the old man's teeth suddenly grew back from the hollow gums. They were very sharp like the teeth of carnivores. Man, he thought Sinclair was the one who would eat him like venison; who knew it would be some old guy?!
'Sinco! Sinco! Help me!' Ainsley's mind blanked and could only call for his best friend. If monsters do exist in this world now, then… Sinclair should be able to protect him, right?
The old man pulled back a little, disconnecting Ainsley's palms from him. At the loss of the counter of the push, Ainsley's arms limped. He knew that this was a fatal mistake on his bodily reflex as the old man attacked again. His eyes could only widen as his breath refused to escape.
Dead again? What did he do to make his life less cheap that Heaven actually wanted to take it back?
Bang! Someone came to his rescue and mercilessly kicked the old man from the side. The old man was thrown away like a rag doll, even rolling onto the ground. Ainsley then felt his body move up as if someone grabbed him by the arm.
"It won't wait for you to escape." An unfamiliar voice spoke, and Ainsley realized that a bystander actually went to save him. Before he could mutter words of gratitude, the old man attacked them again. "Watch out!"
"Get away!" The man caught the old man and tried to push him off, but the rabid dog that looked like a human clamped down its teeth on the savior's arm. Without voicing out pain, he could only grab the old man's face. His eyes then glanced at the side before overpowering the old man and pushing them both to the side of the street. He kicked the old man off of him, throwing the old man into oncoming traffic.
The old man quickly sprang to his feet, but before he could make it back to the gutter, a truck actually came into view. The huge face of the truck slammed into the old man, sending him into the air and having gravity bash his head on the ground.
Ainsley only stepped back as if he just witnessed his nightmare from another day. His breath got caught in his throat, and his entire body shook. What… just happened?
"Are you alright?" The man from earlier walked to Ainsley, his other hand grasping at the wound that the old man had done.
"…" Ainsley brought his attention to the man who blocked the view from him. When Ainsley looked at the side, he noticed how the truck driver got off of his truck and called in the accident. He then took a look at the man again and forced himself to smile. "Yeah… thanks.
"Ah, you're hurt! We should get it checked at the hospital! I'll go with you!" The dazed man was suddenly distracted by the scent of blood. His eyes were on the man's arm as he sloppily removed his cardigan and used it to cover and put pressure on the wound.
"You don't have to worry about me." The unfamiliar man's tone was dismissive of help, but his lips were curling in amusement.