Never Trust A Stranger.

He was almost finished shaving Timothy when I heard a scream. I came out of my day dream state and the first thing I saw was the beautiful silver razor covered in red, goopy blood. Timothy’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets and blood was coming from his mouth and spurting from his neck. He slashed at Timothy repeatedly, like a hungry man slices a Christmas ham. I felt blood spurt on my face and in my mouth. Timothy was gagging on his own blood while He wore a satisfied look on his face. He slashed at Timothy again and again until finally Timothy stopped gagging and his chin fell against his chest. His eyes were half open. I heard a click, the chair went backwards and Timothy fell through a trap door. I heard the sound of a skull shatter, much like the sound of somebody stepping on a walnut, but deeper, as the chair came back up to its original place.
I swallowed and I could taste the blood that had spurted from Timothy’s throat. It sent a chill down my spine and it went numb. My mouth was dry and I tasted copper.
“Sorry you had to see that.” He said, after what seemed like an eternity. His face still bore that same look of satisfaction although there was a large grin to compliment it, it made Him look rather mad, twisted, in a way. Although I’m sure He was, at least a little bit. There was blood covering His dark, twisted face. He was advancing on me. I didn’t know what to do. Everything was in slow motion. I saw His grin broaden and His razor flash in the candlelight. ‘This is the end.’ I thought.
Then I heard a bell ring and it woke me up. I realized what was happening and what I had to do. I ran down the stairs and passed the tables that were so long ago filled with laughing people. “Come back here!” I heard Him say. I flung open the gate and ran across the deserted street. I could feel Him behind me, His razor hungry for more. For me. I ran, faster and faster. I past the restaurant, the bookstore, the butcher, in what seemed like seconds. My mouth was as dry as ever, I could still taste copper and I had an aching stitch in my side, but I kept running. I was in the alley now. I could smell the rotting fish heads and I heard Him scream, “Get back here! He sounded distant, but not too distant. Maybe just a few feet away. I slipped in what I hoped was water but probably wasn’t. I could hear His feet splashing in the puddles. I got up and ran. Out of the alley and into the street.
I saw somebody get out of a coach and I jumped straight into it. “Go go go!” I screamed at the driver.

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