Dark Lord Potato's Writing Thread

[Dark Lord Potato]

A place to put down my snippets and short stories, as well as any ideas that I thought were worth noting down. Because I already had a thread on SV and Spacebattles, and figured "What's stopping me from making a third thread here?"

I've written several short stories over the past three years that I thought were worth sharing; I'll post one a day in order to space them out a little bit.

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

[Hey Rachel, whr r u? U didn't show up 2 skul 2day.]

The one question that inevitably comes up whenever my sister drags me on one of her hunts was; 'Would you rather be at School?'.

Which is fair, I suppose. Sure I'm sitting next to a dumpster on a pile of old newspapers, which I'd brought on a (Proven right) hunch that I needed them, alone in the shady part of some town, while my sister and her friend killed monsters in the building behind me, but I had my phone, and hey, at least I wasn't at school.

The loud roaring of fire from within the building behind me was ignored as I typed out a response to Nataly's question. I could still hear my fingers tapping away at the smartphone's screen over the sound behind me. Odd that.

[I'm in Benson. Karrin dragged me on another one of her Bonding trips.]

The bark of a large-caliber pistol rang through the air as I found myself musing on the town I was in, one I actually knew. About an hour's drive from my hometown of Lockwood, it had grown to the point that it was effectively a small city, despite being called a town. More importantly, at least to the teenagers of Lockwood, it was the closest city around with a decent party scene. Both Toronto and Montreal were three hours out, necessitating some modicum of planning, and Ottawa was boring as hell, but Benson? One hour to get their, one hour to get back, could be done basically spur of the moment.

Now that I think about, I actually hadn't visited Benson before now. If my Karrin and her friend wrapped up with this nest of... vampires, I think? Yeah, vampires. If they cleaned up this nest fast enough, I might be able to talk her into driving around town with me, to scout out the place. I knew I'd be back here eventually, so I might as well be prepare- oh, there's Nataly's reply.

[Again?! Isn't that the 3rd tym this month?]

Only the first time this month, but the mistake was understandable. Ever since our Parents had died, she'd made a point of dragging me on several one of her missions, an average of once-per-month.

It had been a year and a half. There had been a lot of these trips.

A monstrous shriek was silenced by what sounded like the slice of a sword as Nataly sent me another text, not bothering to wait for my reply.

[Anyways, got big news! U know that creepy mansion by the gas station Nth of the school?]

She could have just said 'the creepy mansion' and I would've known what she was talking about. Not that many Creepy Mansions in town, far as I remembered. And this one was abandoned (If someone owns the property, but no one goes their, is it still abandoned?), so that made it doubling creepy.

[Who doesn't? What about it?]
[Well, turns out Joaquins family own the place, & his parents R out of twn this weekend, so this saturday's going to b an early Halloween bash!]

Really? Sweet! Ever since I'd decided that I wasn't going to be a hunter a Year-and-a-half ago, I'd been focusing on trying to raise my popularity, because if I was going to be a normal girl, I was going to be the queen of normal girls, dammit. I'd had little luck so far, but something like this was my big chance! Things were looking up!

So naturally, it was as I was typing up my reply that I heard the growling, to my left and down the alleyway. Instinctively, I stood up, my left hand tucking my phone into my pocket as the other grabbed the .45 handgun hidden behind me. As I stood, I spun on my heels so I was facing the sound of the noise, and that was when I got my first clear sight of them.

There were two of them, stalking down the alleyway on all fours. Gray skin of a leather-like consistency was stretched over their bony forms, some of it even stretched from their wrists down to their hips, forming bat-like wings. Two pairs of sickly golden eyes glared at me, almost studying me, but then that small bit reason left them as they, as one, released ear-splitting screams, their opened mouths containing a line of broken, jagged fangs.

The Ira. Vampires named after the sin of wrath. If they grabbed me, I'd be dead. But they hadn't grabbed me yet.

As the pair charged towards me, I kicked the dumpster with my left foot. I'd noticed earlier that this dumpster was one of the ones with wheels, and just as I'd hoped, the dumpster was pushed towards the Vampires, rolling with enough speed to knock out anyone hit by it.

One of the Ira was in way of the dumpster but it didn't move aside. Instead, the creature leapt towards the dumpster, grabbed a hold of it with clawed hands, and pulled itself on top of the dumpster, all without breaking it's stride.

It then promptly ate two bullets to the face, the impact sending its twitching remains backflipping down to the pavement. It's a lot easier to hit one of these things when you know where their going to be.

I turned my gun from where the now-brained Vampire was to it's cohort just as the monster took its own leap into the air, a guided missile aimed at me. By the time my pistol was pointed at it, the monster was just a few seconds from my face.

A single shot rang out, catching it in the shoulder, turning it's leap into an uncontrolled tumble. But it would still land on top of me, which was nearly as dangerous. I'd been backing up for almost the entire fight, trying to put distance between me and them. So at that moment, I fell backwards, essentially just tripping on purpose. I landed painfully on my rear and managed to bring the rest of me back just in time, leaving an inch of space between my face and the Ira's as it sailed overhead. I would be seeing those teeth and murder-filled eyes in my nightmares.

It smacked against the pavement and rolled another few feet, but it was already recovering by the end. I brought my gun around. The first shot sent the creature back down, with a new hole in its head. The next four shots sealed the deal, blowing its head apart and scattering it's brain matter across the pavement. I kept the gun trained on it for another few seconds, but finally relaxed, rolled back on my, well, back, and let out a relieved sigh as the adrenaline drained out of me.

And that's when I heard the second shriek. An Ira leapt at me again, just like the last one. But this one had two slowly-healing bullet holes in its head. And I couldn't bring up my gun fast enough.

Doing the only thing I could think of, I brought both legs up and caught it in the chest. This did not result in me counteracting it's momentum and kicking it back down the alley, but instead sent me rolling, ass over head. I at least managed to flip it over my head, sending it slamming against the pavement like it's former cohort had. This didn't stop it as much, the monster rolling with the impact and climbing to its feet as I did the same. But the gun had been ripped out of my hand and went sailing down the path, stopping about halfway between me and the Bloodsucker. If I went for it, It would get grab me and kill me. I had to run

Spinning on my heel and then pushing off, I went off in a panicked sprint in the opposite direction of the monster, which let out a shriek as it charged after me. Panic blinded my senses, until my world was nothing but running, and the sound of the monster, and how close I was to the exit of the alleyway, too panicked to see any details.

Just as it became clear I wouldn't be able to make it out before the shrieking behind me caught up, the sound raised up into the air. Another leap. Out of options, I spun around ready to face it, aiming for one throw to knock it down again-

And got a perfect view of the Vampire, mid-leap, get its top-half vaporized by a burst of fire. I stepped out of the way of its bottom-half as it splattered against the pavement and rolled to a stop at the feet of my rescuers.

On the right side was a woman with wavy blond hair just brushing her shoulders. Mary Phillips Howard. Dressed in a Denim jacket and a long peach skirt, everything about how she looked and held herself screamed 'stay-at-home mom'. However, I knew there was more to her than just that, and anyone with two brain cells who saw the gnarled staff she wielded would think similarly.

And on the left was my sister, Karrin Redfield, looking like always. Red hair pulled into a ponytail, dyed black so that the red looked like streaks. A Leather Jacket and Stirrup pants that were made out of some flexible exercise material, both black, and a large sword held loosely in her right hand.

Both looked worried as they ran up, Mary taking a few steps past me and into the alley while Karrin's free hand pulled me into a rib-crushing hug.

"Rachel, are you okay?" I will be once you let go of me, goddamn you're strong. I let out a mangled; "G-get off!"; before managing to shove myself out of her grip. "Yeah, I'm fine." Damn, my tone was a bit harsher than I would've liked, based on Karrin's startled expression.

Then she glanced over my shoulder at the dead vampire at the other side of the alley, and that confused look shifted into the cocky grin I was familiar with. "Not bad, Sis. Good to see you haven't forgotten your training. Looks like there's a badass monster hunter inside of y-"

"No." My tone was utterly frosty. I was not having this stupid conversation again. "I'm not going to be a hunter. Stop asking."

She looked like she'd almost been slapped softened, but after a few seconds this softened, turning into something more sympathetic. "Look, I get it if this is about mom and dad-"

"Well it's not. I just want a normal life, okay?!" Piece made, I turned on my heel and began heading towards the car. Before we started shouting at each other, before we showed the world what actual arguing looks like.

On the way back, I pulled out my phone. It had only been about two minutes since the Vampires showed up.

[U in?]
[Hey, what's up? Everything ok?]
[Got distracted, then had a slight fight with my sister. I'm in for Saturday.]
[Gud 2 hear! & dam that sucks, U feelin ok?]

I would be. I was going to have fun at that party, and I wasn't going to let some petty fight, or an attack by monsters stop me.

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

To my son,

If you're reading this, I won't be coming home. I'm sorry.

I've known that this might happen for a long time. I'm a warrior, the battlefield is a dangerous place, and while I'm confident in my skills and hope that I'll return home and toss this letter into the fireplace, never to be needed, there's always a risk that the night-folk will get the better of me, and that the worst will happen.

I go to defend you, your mother, and everything else I hold dear, but I doubt that explanation, or any other I give you for why this happened will make sense now. My only hope is that, in time, you'll come to understand the reasons for why I did what I did, and move on with your life. Still, there is no shame in crying. You are allowed to grieve.

Soon enough, your mother shall marry your honorary uncle Count Regnum. This was arranged many years ago, in case something like this were to ever happen. There are some matters made simpler if your mother was seen as a married woman. It doesn't mean that she doesn't love me, and while Regnum will try to be a father to you, he is not trying to replace me. I'm mentioning this now so that it doesn't come as a surprise, so please don't think ill of either of them. They only want what is best for you.

If I may make one more request, don't hate the night-folk for taking me from you. While I and your mother have made every effort to raise you with happiness and kindness so that you can make your own decisions, the night-folk have grown up knowing only fear and hatred. Dangerous as they are, they are victims as well. Don't lose your kindness through all the pain.

There are so many things I wish I could say to you, too many for me to write down here. I must be leaving soon, and there's still a good chance that I'll return home.

You and your mother are the greatest gifts the world has ever given. My greatest wish for you is that you grow up kind, brave, wise and above all else, happy.

Goodbye Tihomir. I love you. Never forget that.

Sincerely,
Andrej Lampert, Knight of the Realm,
Your father

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

He was running the vacuum cleaner when the phone rang.

The dark-haired teenager glanced up in the direction of the phone, taking a moment to recognize the ringing for what it was. Once he did, he flicked off the vacuum and took the several steps over to the desk where his cell phone was sitting. In one motion, he flipped open the phone and he brought it up to his ear before answering. "Hello, Michael Valdemar speaking."

"Hey Mike! How's it going?" Mike recognized the boisterous voice on the other end as soon as he heard it. He responded politely. "Not much Greg. What's up?"

"March break's coming up, we gotta do something to make it special. How about you, me, and Amber head on up to Lakeview campgrounds and rough it for a few days?" Greg Daniel Mckay was answered by an awkward silence. Michael started emitting "Uhhhh," sounds just to fill the silence and buy himself some more time.

Apparently, that tipped off Greg as to the other man's reluctance. "...You don't like camping? That's fine, I know it's not really a cool thing, if you want to do something else, I'm open ears-"

Michael spoke up before his friend could run any further with that misunderstanding. "I'm okay with camping." Which was true. Camping wasn't exactly a favorite of his, but with himself and Amber Mullen packing properly and lucky SoB Greg around, they should be alright. "It's just... have you noticed a trend with our group?"

"No?" The confusion in Greg's voice was clear. There was a pause as Michael contemplated his next words carefully.

"Remember what happened on valentines day?"

---

In a quiet part of the city, late at night, three teenagers sprinted desperately down the sidewalk, turning left into an alleyway before stopping. As the three took low, panting breaths, Michael spoke with nervous quiet. "Do you think we lost him?"

Greg, pressed up against the alley wall, poked his head to look down the street the three had just come from. "Maybe, I can't see him." For several silent seconds, nothing happened, and the three began to relax.

And then Greg and Michael heard Amber Mullen squeak behind them. "Above us!" Looking up, they saw the thing which had been chasing them: A wild-eyed man holding a bow, wearing nothing but a diaper and a winged harness. As the three teenagers began sprinting away again, he silently took an arrow from a quiver on his back and nocked it.

---

"That was a one time thing. There aren't that many dangerous, highly skilled mental hospital patients out there!"

"What about back in January when we went to that bar?"

---

Sounds of mayhem echoed all throughout the room, while Michael and Amber hid behind the bar. Amber popped her head above the bar top for a short second to see what was happening, before immediately ducking back down as a large adult went sailing over their heads, crashing into the shelves of bottles on the wall before then landing at the duo's feet, an unconscious, groaning mess. Silence seemed to finally reign throughout the bar, and after a few moments the duo cautiously peeked over the counter.

The room looked almost systematically broken apart, pieces of broken furniture and unconscious bodies strewn all about. Greg sat among all the chaos on top of one of the unconscious forms, a shameless grin upon his face, the only injury apparent on him being some blood leaking from his left temple.

"You two alright?"

---

"I said I was sorry about that! I had to take on those skinhead assholes, and you two weren't even a part of that fight!"

"Not to mention that one night on christmas break."

Oh god. Christmas Break.

---

"More tea?"

Greg responded enthusiastically, with an open and honest smile. "Yes please!"

Michael and Amber nodded politely as well, their nervous smiles not going below the surface.

The Queen of the Unseelie smiled back indecipherably, before raising a light blue hand towards the waiter, an ice golem twice the size of anyone else at the table. Responding immediately to the gesture, it raised it's right hand, shaped into a crystal clear teapot, and smoothly refilled the three teenagers' cups. And the party went on.

---

"That party was awesome! Besides, how was I supposed to anticipate Fairies being real!"

Michael's patience finally snapped, just a little bit. "Greg! It's not you!" He pulled his phone away from his mouth for a moment to take a deep breath, before continuing. "It's us. For some reason, every time the three of us hang out outside of school, everything goes to shit."

Greg was silent on the other end of the phone for several seconds, but soon enough he responds. "Okay we've had some bad luck in the past, I won't deny that. But that doesn't mean our bad luck will continue. So let's take a risk! If you're wrong, we have an awesome few days, and if you're right then I'll make sure nothing happens to you or Amber. Because this stuff's more fun with you two."

Michael felt a little embarrassed at the swell of happiness he felt at Greg's small compliment, a little grateful no one saw it. And as he thought on the matter, he felt some crazed streak of bravado grow inside of himself. He didn't want to be afraid of the world! He wanted to get out there and have fun! Finally, he replied. "Alright then, fine, let's do this."

Greg's reply was much more excited than Michael ever sounded in his life. "Yes! Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't forget it! These are going to be some of the awesomest three nights of our lives!"

---

A week later, two nights into March break, in the morning a little before sunlight peeked over the horizon, Michael, Greg, and Amber trudged across the Lakeview parking lot just outside the treeline. Bruised, covered in ash, and with clothing torn up, they slowly made their way back to Greg's car, a rugged old convertible painted red. Michael pulls open the passenger door and practically falls into the passenger seat, while Amber similarly slumps into the backseat. By the time Greg is in the driver's seat, she's fallen asleep. By unspoken agreement, none of them mention the equipment left back at their campsite. They'll have to come back for that later, but right now all they can think about doing is getting home to rest.

As they drive off Michael can't help but think that Amber's got the right idea, but something keeps him from sleeping for a little bit. And just as he's about to pass out, Greg speaks up next to him, the other young man's voice unusually tentative given who's speaking. Least he sounds the most awake out of the three of them. "So we killed a demon. Don't think many other people can say that, right?"

The two of them hear Amber mutter quite clearly in her sleep, "Worst... luck... ever..."

Despite how much he knows he should complain, Michael can't stop the corner's of his mouth from twitching upwards into a small grin. He must be going mad, because this adventure feels way less horrible than the last three.

Still, as the trio drove home, he made it clear he would never go back there again.

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

The wooden door burst open with great force after a boot slammed into it multiple times, revealing a girl silhouetted against the dim light from outside. The wooden steps creaked as she stepped cautiously down the two boards descending from the door to the grey concrete floor. She was barely taller than five foot, or couldn't have been older than fifthteen, but when her features became visible away from the outside light, her calm, steely gaze would've given any who saw her pause. The pistol she held in her hands would've also helped.

The slapping of the girl's shoes against the concrete was the only sound echoing through the basement as she hurried forward. There was an opening up ahead and to the right of her, as she stepped in front of it her gun rose swiftly so that it pointed at anything within the room. The flashlight in her other hand clicked on, the beam of light revealing buckets filled with blood and god knows what else, emitting twelve different kinds of horrid smells. The girl could probably identify every smell coming from those buckets if she had the time, but she didn't, she needed to move quickly if she was going to find Leah Benson.

Leah Benson wasn't anybody that important, not even to the one looking for her. Just one of three college girls unlucky enough to witness a kidnapping late one night and be noticed. The kidnapper had been taking people for a long time, harvesting them for blood and body parts he used in arcane rites that he thought gave him power, and he had decided to make lemonade out of lemons by making the three witnesses his next three victims. The girl had only heard about the three young women when Leah's friends disappeared, and by the time she pieced together the whole picture Leah had been taken as well. She hadn't gotten to Leah in time to stop her kidnapping, but she might still save the woman's life.

The girl kept going, and almost immediately ran into a wall. The hallway split off to the left and right, forming a T-shape with the path she came from. The twin paths looked identical, each turning to go back in the direction the girl had just come from. She quickly looked both ways then took the left path, her decision made in moments. The second turn revealed a straight and long path, with open doorways leading to many more rooms dotted along the two walls. Her pace picked up as she unconsciously felt every second that could make the difference between saving the young woman's life and not. The girl paused briefly to glance into each room, but none of them had the person she was looking for only dried blood and a piece of the grisly story she already knew. This room had a red pentagram painted in the center of it, this one contained several half-empty bookshelves holding leather-bound journals, this one held a vivisection table in the center of it, this one-

This one had a body in it. And Leah Benson.

The corpse was lying collapsed on its back, with a knife buried in its face. It looked skinny, like a lot of drug addicts the girl had seen in the past, and the blood covering its face concealed any features. She could tell from the blade's handle, the only visible part of it, that the thing wasn't made for combat, most likely some sort of sacrificial dagger. "His own blade did him in." The girl guessed, before shifting her gaze to Leah, who huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring fearfully at the body like she thought it was going to sit up any moment. The girl passed her gun from her right hand to her left, holding it away from Leah, then approached the woman carefully, not doing anything that could startle her.

"Leah?" The girl couldn't tell if the woman heard her speaking softly or saw the teen out of the corner of her eye, but her response was the same, her head snapping to the girl so that those dark brown eyes were locked on her. "He's dead. You're safe now." The older woman's eyes flickered between the girl and the corpse. "He's gone?" She asked. The girl nodded in response. "Yeah, you got him." Bending down just a bit so that they were at level height, the girl offered her free hand to the older woman. "My name's Odessa. I'm going to get you out of here."

Leah stared at Odessa's hand for a few seconds, before she cautiously reached out and took it. As the girl pulled her up, something seemed to click in the college student's brain. "You- how old are you?"

Odessa shrugged dismissively, seeming much more tired in that moment. "Old enough. I have a lot of experience with monsters." With that, Odessa started walking off, leading Leah back along the route the girl had taken, and eventually back towards the outside world.

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

Hunter ran through the forest at a breakneck pace, not to get somewhere or not to get away from something, but because when he was focused on the burning in his lungs and on dodging roots jutting from the ground, he wasn't focused on the thing that had caused him to run out here. The running helped distract the sixteen year-old from the thoughts in his head, but he couldn't keep it up forever, and once he reached the edge of the river, he stopped. His hands grabbed onto his knees as he hunched over and breathed in and out, until the burning in his lungs faded away. Except for the roaring of the tumultuous river next to him and the sound of Hunter's own breathing, the forest was silent. "I must've scared away all the animals." The young man guessed.

Glancing up slightly, Hunter inspected the river for a few moments. The water seemed to flow by like lightning, ready to grab anyone who got in and dash them against the rocks that must be there, concealed underneath the white froth covering the top of the water. He took a step back and then sat down, wincing slightly as his jean-clad rear landed roughly on the gray stones that formed the ground in the six feet between the trees and the river. The wind whistled chaotically by his ears, and for a moment the air seemed colder around him, prompting him to pull his jacket tightly around him, as if that would keep in the warmth he had left.

The momentary distraction soon faded, and Hunter's mind returned to the reason he was here. Reaching into a pocket of his jacket, he pulled out the letter: An opened envelope with a simple sheet of A4 paper, that caused a roaring like the one made by the river within his own head. Hunter felt the envelope squish underneath his fingers gripping the page, as the thought of destroying the letter ran through his mind. It would be so tempting to just rip it up, throw the pieces into the river, and go on with his life like this never happened. But after a moment, Hunter's grip on the letter relaxed and he shoved it back in his pocket. "That wouldn't work," he decided bitterly, "Not after I ran out of the house like that." And so he sat there morosely, eventually turning his head upwards to look at the gray clouds which the sun had placed between it and the people below.

The sound of footsteps on grass coming from behind Hunter cut through the teen's gloom and replaced it with panic. "No, please no. Please go away." He silently pleaded. He couldn't do this now, not while he could still get angry, because if he got angry he would hurt the person he knew was there, and he couldn't do that to her. Not his best friend.

Hunter, still panicked, leapt to his feet and spun to look behind him, putting his back to the riotous river. Standing there was a woman his age, wearing a sleeveless black shirt with a matching long skirt. Concern (or was it fear?) radiated from her pale red eyes as she spoke. "What was that? Are you alright?"

The paper shoved into Hunter's pocket along with his hand seemed to develop ten more edges at that moment, all for the purpose of poking his hand and reminding him of its existence. After a few moments of meeting his friend's gaze, he broke off and looked away, glancing down at the stones lying there without cares underneath the feet of the two. "It's nothing. I'm fine, Eve."

An eyebrow rose on Eve's face. "Yeah, which is why you were running out of the house in a blind sprint. If you don't want to tell me, fine, but don't lie to me." Her voice, previously driven and clear, softened as she next spoke. "You can talk to me about these things, you know that right? You can talk to us."

The young man said nothing for a few seconds, thoughts of his adoptive family conjured in his mind at that last word. Slowly, he pulled out the letter. "This came in the mail today." Eve's face furrowed in thought as she looked at the small thing. She couldn't guess what was written in it that had done this to her friend. She questioned him tentatively. "Who's it from?"

"...My mother." Eve repeated Hunter's statement under her breath, in the moment before understanding hit. Then her eyes widened in shock. "Your biological-" "Lessie James, formerly Lessie Ross." He spat the confirmation into the cold air like it pained him to say it. "It's from her. She wants to meet up." There was a distant rumble of thunder, grey clouds warning everyone of an approaching storm.

"And that's bad?" The question sparked a bitter laugh from Hunter. "No, that's great! It's gonna be a great talk! 'Hi mom, nice of you to finally show up after sixteen years! No it's alright, I know how much of a bastard my old man was, makes sense you wouldn't want to stay with him and his spawn-" Hunter's self-deprecating speech was cut off by Eve suddenly slamming into him. It took him a moment to notice her arms wrapped around him, or the liquid he could feel building in his eyes. He felt the pain that had been building in him since the letter arrived boiled over, and all he could do was hug Eve back and let the tears fall.

Eventually the tears slowed to a stop, and was followed by Eve's voice. "Do you want to meet her?" Hunter hesitated for a moment, simply holding her in his arms as she held back. Then he answered. "I... don't want to shut her out. But I don't know what I'll do if I see her." A soft scent of perfume Hunter didn't notice until then disappeared as Eve stepped back out of their embrace before she started speaking. "Maybe some other way of talking? Write a letter back, or email perhaps? Did your mother say when or where she wanted to meet up?"

Hunter shook his head. "No, she left that up to me." The hand holding the letter stiffly rose, offering the letter to Eve. She took it, slid the folded A4 paper out of the already-opened envelope, and then unfolded that. For a few minutes, the only sounds were of nearby animals wandering by. Eve's eyes scanned across the page, while Hunter did his best not to stare at his best friend, who was the same height as him but somehow seemed both smaller and larger than him.

Eve nodded to herself, seemingly done reading, but before she could say anything, there was another crack of thunder, this one much closer than the last one. Eve looked up to something behind Hunter, and the young man turned to look at what she saw. A large patch of dark clouds amongst the grey sky were heading right towards them, with a few rays of light shining through the clouds promising a short storm. "Storm's almost here. We should get back home." In silent agreement, the two turned back towards the direction they knew led home.

As Hunter moved to walk alongside Eve, he noticed her shiver as the wind quietly blew by the two. Without thinking about it, he removed his jacket and handed it to her. She took it, but gave him a look while she did so. "And what about you, tough guy?" He shrugged at the question. "I'll be fine long enough to get back inside. Honestly, I feel pretty warm right now."

 

[Dark Lord Potato]

Jack Lambert always made an effort to start his day at 6:30 AM, if he could help it. That was when the bakery next door opened, ensuring he got first pick of one of their delicious bagels. And once he had his breakfast, there was a bench out front that was a perfect place to sit, eat and watch the world go by.

Most people would say that the sunrise would be the best sight at that time of day, and Jack would agree that the sunrise was beautiful. But for Jack, the best part of breakfast for him came a few minutes before seven, when he got to see people make what he called 'The Sprint'. There was always at least one person who made The Sprint, it was almost like clockwork.

Today was no exception. Watching the sidewalk across the street from his bench, Jack could see someone come around the corner, already at a jog. He was a dark-skinned man with a crew cut, a black suit that Jack was confident already had sweat stains, a briefcase in his right hand, and a desperate look in his eyes. Jack had seen this type before: This guy almost certainly had a job down in the financial sector of the city, and had woken up that morning to find that he had a lot less time then he thought he had to get to work. This specific guy was new though. The man looked young, somewhere in his 20's Jack would wager; he was probably a new hire who didn't want to show up late on his first day at work.

As the man turned the corner and saw the red and white bus, a look came over him, an understanding that it was all or nothing if he wanted to get to work on time. The man went from jogging speed to sprinting speed, while still keeping his straight-backed posture from when he was jogging the moment earlier. His arms pumped furiously as he ran past the thai restaurant on the corner that wouldn't open till lunch, the weight of the briefcase throwing his right arm's movements out of sync with his left. The businessman was a reedy-looking sort who was already panting before he picked up his pace, but desperate determination fueled him as he tore past the computer shop Jack was pretty sure was a front for some sort of organized crime.

The man started to slow down as he went past the last of the three squat gray brick buildings on that side of the street, but he was only a few feet from the bus, and with a last few staggering strides he reached the bus's open door and stumbled inside. No one else was nearby, and after a moment the doors slid shut before the bus slowly peeled out of its place next to the curb. The bus always drove past Jack's bench, and out of curiosity he turned his head left to look at it as it went by. Jack thought he might've spotted the businessman holding on to one of the overhead handholds like it was the only thing keeping him upright, but he couldn't be sure.

In any case, Jack's breakfast had long since been eaten, and he couldn't sit on this bench all day. His work online meant he didn't have to leave his apartment to make a living, but it was still work. As Jack stood up from his bench and turned back towards the red-bricked, two-story apartment building he lived in, he spared another thought for the businessman he'd seen today. Specifically, Jack wondered if he'd see the man make The Sprint tomorrow, or if the man would adapt his schedule so that he wouldn't need to rush to work every morning. Guess he'd find out tomorrow...