Black. Blue. Those were the colors that were left behind. The beating. The pain. The agony he had to endure. It was back. In all of its vicious form. Hitting. Colliding. Repeating. All over again. The thought wouldn’t go away.

Suddenly, he screams. Upon sitting up and looking around, he realizes that he is no longer in the house from his nightmare. Instead, he is in another. He must’ve been dreaming. Apparently he must’ve fallen asleep while eating again. He forgot that eating late at night like that gave him nightmares.

He slowly staggers back onto his feet, and walks over to the unfamiliar sink. He thinks to himself about the nasty dreams. He reminds himself not to eat that late ever again. Washing the filth off of his hands, he throws cold water onto his face. All the crud on his hands turned the water a reddish brown. He shouldn’t of let this crap dry. It’s a bitch to remove. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized that he is defiantly not ready for the regular world. He slowly walks to the strange bedroom. Sifting through the closet, he finds some better clothes to wear. He changes. The shirt was a little too small. But who cares? At least it passes the “No shirt” policy at his favorite deli. And that means… breakfast. Well… lunch to the rest of the world. He goes through the wallet on the floor, taking the money inside it. There was more then enough to get food. He staggers towards the door.

Stepping outside, he sees the world. Not the one that you or I see, but his world. His real world. The one full of animals. He walks down the unfamiliar street. It’s funny how different everything looks during the day. He’s used to the night. His time. That’s the time he is usually walking around. Early in the morning. Everything looks different at night.

He ponders his dreams the night before. He sees that figure he’s tried to forget so many times before. The figure never goes away. The figure is always watching. And judging. Now in the afterlife, but it still hangs over. Always watching. As he dwells in the thoughts of his darkened father, he feels the beatings again. They hurt so much. His father stands there with that stupid grin on his face all the time. He remembers very little about dad, except that every lesson he tried to teach ended in a brutal beating, and lots of yelling. Father didn’t do much of anything anymore. Mostly stayed lying on his back. Stabbed twice for every bruise he ever gave.

Funny. As he revels in that thought, a grin happens across his tattered face. He knows he got the last laugh out of it all.

Finally, he comes to Robert’s Deli, the best deli in the world in his eyes. He eyed over the menu, and decided on steak. “The best meat in the world. Second only to real…” Whoops. He was saying that out loud. Almost screwed up big time there. “Never mind.” He gives his order to Robert. A raw steak sandwich. He loved the way the red juices flowed under each bite. Taking the sandwich, he goes to sit down.

Staggering over to a seat, he eyes the blonde in the red dress that just walked in. Very pretty girl. He remembered her. Small world isn’t it. This was the girl he asked to the prom in high school. She laughed, and threw water in his face. Oh, he remembered. He never forgets things like that. She was there to get lunch. She noticed his eyes on her, and quickly rushed herself out the door. Noticing her rush, he quickly finished the sandwich, and staggered out the door.

Lucky for him, she was walking. She was walking home, he assumed. Talking away on her cell phone. Some boyfriend, he guessed. They always have boyfriends. “Fucking pretty girls and their boyfriends.” He stammered. She turned slightly and looked back, noticing him following her. She cleared her throat, and quickened her pace. He was too tired for this game. He stayed his speed, paying careful attention to where she was going. She eventually turned off the main road, and continued to the road on the left, Hanson’s street. “Like that gay boy band.” He said to himself. Hearing this, she turned her head again. Noticing him pass by the street. He kept walking. He saw the house she was going towards though. And that’s all the mattered to him.

Continuing his day, he walked around most of it, taking in all the wildlife around him. Nothing interesting today. Just a few people walking their dogs, or jogging.

Nighttime. His time. He was hungry. He quickened his pace to the women’s house. Overhearing before that she was going out tonight, he hoped that she hadn’t left yet. She hadn’t. He walked up to her front door, and rang the bell. “Coming!” An enthusiastic response from inside. He prepared himself.

The door opened, and the women had a smile on her face. Her smile slowly degraded as she realized that this wasn’t her beloved boyfriend. Her eyes tracing down his arm to the 14-inch long knife in his hand. She began moving backwards, in a shock. A scream bellowed from her terrified mouth. Not for long however, as he jammed his hand into her mouth. Holding onto her tongue, he stabbed her into the stomach. Now, a muffled scream, and biting. They usually scream, and sometimes fight. But after about twenty to thirty stabs to the stomach, they usually stop moving. 5 minutes passed. Now she was a doll. A pretty, pretty doll.

Here is where I come in. A neighbor called the NYPD at about 9:37 PM. I got called to investigate. Walking into the house, I discovered a tall rugged looking man, about 6 foot 1, eating a large chunk of a women who was obviously dead. Most of her body had been removed at this point. His face looked surprised at my arrival, and he staggered towards me with a large 14-inch blade in his hand. I loosed my gun, and shot him in the chest. Twice. He went down hard. Lung shot apparently, he dropped the blade, and looked up to me. “Mother fucker…” he crammed out his mouth. Now pouring with blood. He coughed twice then continued. “The hunter becomes the hunted…” I began calling in the scene, when he began talking again. “This doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.” I stood and listened to the man’s words. “I am the reason why you were created! I am the reason you exist! Why the fuck have I been shot?” I finished calling in the scene and heard far off sirens heading this way. “You can’t kill me! I can’t be killed?!?! What happens after this?” Life then left his body as blood poured from his mouth and the wound. “I guess you’ll find out.” I mentioned, as the police cars swarmed the front of the building.