He heard them before he saw them. They hung in the shadows at first, so as to catch him by surprise. He didn’t notice them at first. They were well hidden and somehow seemed to blend in where they were. A small part of him knew they had been shadowing him all day, waiting for him to be alone. And what better place to attack than on a small, off-beaten track, with the trees shielding everything? His suspicions had been confirmed when he heard a twig snap and a scuffle to follow, as though the movements were attempting to swallow the noise. He saw the large shadows that swiftly glided closer to him, and the silhouette of a gun in one of the men’s hand. Turning round, he knocked one of them off his feet and stood roughly on his attacker’s stomach. He read the name tag on the man’s chest; ‘Miriku’. Miriku’s eyes flickered as he passed out, but the other enemy wasn’t going to give up so easily. The assailant kicked the target in the shins and quickly whacked him on the head with the gun. The target assumed there were no bullets in the gun, as they had not been used; it was just there to intimidate him. This information, however, did not help him as he fell to the floor with a loud THUD! and passed out. Blood was dripping from his head, and it leaked on the pavement, leaving a deep red mark which would be stained there for many years to come.
Even the birds stopped to look, their singing halting as they watched the victim fall to the ground, almost in slow-motion. When he hit the ground, the birds flew high into the sky, as though scared or in shock, leaving the trees rustling after them.
The man stared pityingly at unconscious Miriku, shaking his head. Leaning down, he checked Miriku’s pulse. It was there, but faded. Sighing, he dragged him into the bushes, and whether he was going to die there, or wake up alone, it wouldn’t matter. He had failed his mission, a very important mission, and in his own opinion, the punishment for that was death. Or worse, abandonment on Earth. He then put his victim in a large, black bag which he un-tucked from his pocket and dragged him off, slowly disappearing into the closing mist.
Not a person in sight. That was surprising, considering it was early afternoon, on a sunny Saturday. Not anymore. The clouds had blocked the sun and they hung threateningly overhead, growling menacingly.
His footsteps echoed down the path and into the nearby alley, but still no-one came. The squirming bag shuffled slightly in frustration, but still no-one came. The fog was enveloping them eerily – only moments ago summer sunshine was beating down on the street. But still no-one came.
Out of nowhere, a bright light smashed through the fog, revealing the silhouettes of the man and bag. The man paused, tilting his head slightly to one side in victory.The alley was glowing now, the light grower bigger every second, until it eventually peaked at 2 metres.
“Bad luck, Tom,” the man whispered as a small blast echoed through the alleyway. The man walked closer to the light, clutching the bag that was swung across his shoulder, and was soon submerged within, his shadow disappearing. The light died out, along with the clouds and fog.
And then they were gone.
But still no-one came.