*huff* *huff* *huff*
A boy panted heavily. He ran and ran, weaving in and out of the clusters of people that lined the muddy streets of Terra - 0130. The boy gasped for breath as he continued to make his way between people's legs. His lungs burned, trying to expand as much as possible; his legs filling with lead each passing second; and his body slick with sweat pouring over him. The boy could no longer hear the chatter of the crowd or the incessant volume of the tetra-screens. The only thing that filled his ears was the hammering of his heart, the pounding of blood through his body, his ragged gasps for more air, and the uneven squelch of his feet as he ran.
The boy's eyes darted frantically, trying to find the best way through the crowd. Behind him, an unknown assailant chased after him. His shouts of outrage getting closer and closer by the second.
'Left? No. Right? no. Under - yes. Alley? no. Keep running - yes. Weave through the crowd - yes. Ginsberg is around 20 no 19 vegetable cars away. Keep moving.'
A stream of thoughts ran through the boy's head as he tried to find the best way out of his predicament. He was holding something as he ran, a dark stone-like object.
"YOU SCRAWNY LITTLE B****!"
"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
Ginsberg's cries started to overshadow the idle chatter of the crowd as the people swiftly parted for the man barrelling past them screaming insults at the top of his lungs.
The boy started to panic as his pursuer was getting dangerously closer. Who knew what would happen to the boy when Ginsberg got a hold of him? Especially after what the boy was holding in his hand.
'Where to go?!' the boy screamed to himself in his mind. He was nearing the end of the line. His body was faltering and Ginsberg was almost on top of him. The boy could turn and shout for help. But would anyone believe a street urchin like him or his well-dressed pursuer?
Gritting his teeth, the boy ducked into an alley, hoping with all his might that there would be a way out.
'No...'
An insurmountable expanse of mud and brick greeted the boy with no regard for the boy's feelings. Fear electrified the boy as he tried to turn and run out of the alley.
*WHAM*
A leg barreled toward the running boy and struck him in the ribs, and sending the boy hurtling toward the cold and unforgiving wall.
Slamming against the wall, the boy slumped down coughing up blood. Yet he still held the stone in his hand.
"Finally caught you," Ginsberg wheezed out. He stood at the entrance to the alley, his massive frame blocking out the little light that could enter the alley.
"Hand over the stone you brat," Ginsberg threatened after catching his breath a little. "I might just let you go after that."
"...no..." the boy croaked out in between bouts of blood. Blood started to pool around him as the back of his head started to feel slick.
"What was that?!" Ginsberg thundered. He slowly walked towards the boy, his presence suffocating the small alley. "I said. Give. Me. The. STONE."
In response, the boy curled up into a ball, clutching the stone close to his chest.
"You little piece of!" Ginsberg started and then stopped. A sudden realization hit him.
"Give me the stone or I'll kill you," Ginsberg threatened again, this time with a sick smile on his face. If there were no witnesses, Ginsberg could do anything that he wanted. There was no one to stand up for the street urchin anyways.
The boy started to tremble. He didn't want to die. Not here. Not in a cold damp and muddy alleyway in a pool of his own blood. But he didn't want to give the stone to that despicable shadow of a man. So the boy continued to huddle, shaking in fear of what was to come.
Ginsberg's smile warped into a frown after seeing the boy not move to give him the stone. He clenched his fists. He didn't want to touch the boy if possible, but the current circumstances forced his hand.
Grabbing the boy by his black hair, Ginsberg yanked him up, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain from the boy.
"You've forced me!" Ginsberg said through gritted teeth and tried to pry the stone from the boy's closed hands.
But the boy's will was strong. He held the stone in a vice-like grip, holding onto it like his life depended on it. After a few moments, Ginsberg's face started to contort in anger. Finally, something snapped inside Ginsberg and he clutched both the boy's hands in one hand. Slowly, his hand started to change color. From normal skin, to yellow, to orange, and finally to red.
A sizzling sound could be heard throughout the alley, as the boy tried to cry out in pain. But his voice betrayed him, and the only sound that came out was the choked gasps of pain.
Ginsberg started to smile as he continued to grip the boy's hands. Tighter and tighter, the sizzling sound was soon accompanied by the sound of burning flesh.
Finally, the boy's grip loosened and the stone fell into the muddy ground below. But Ginsberg didn't stop. He wanted the trash dead. Letting go of the boy's charred hands, Ginsberg moved his hand to the neck.
The boy watched through the dim haze of pain. The reaper's hand inched closer and closer before suddenly stopping.
{UNAUTHORIZED USAGE OF POWER DETECTED}
A loud sound echoed across the alley.
Then like an off switch, Ginsberg's hand returned to its normal color. Throwing the boy away, Ginsberg hurriedly picked up the fallen stone. Pocketing the stone, Ginsberg scrambled out of the alley all the while cursing his bad luck.
"SH**!"
"WHY THE F*** WAS IT HERE?!"
All the while, the boy lay still in the mud. Chest barely rising, the boy vaguely registered the fact that he was dying. Feeling his heart slow, the boy's eyes' fluttered shut as he dimly thought, '...mom....'