FSE

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So i introduced part of this werewolf story too you guys earlier in the year, the first part is complete so :D yay! haha tell me what you think as this is my first time writing in the werewolf area :P not much to tell in this first part but still :P i love you guys comments. (and yes i know how i spelled the story)

Kyle found himself running down the familiar dirt road once more, making his way to his safe haven, fleeing from his troubles. He knew every twist and turn; every annoying branch jutting out into the narrow path to swat blindingly at his face; every dip that threatened to send the uninformed walker sprawling to the ground with a twisted ankle or worse. Around him the sounds of the night greeted him like an old friend, shrouding him in a veil of comfort that kept his mind from focusing on the new bruises that dotted his flesh beneath his clothes. Insects and the wind rustling through the leaves being the main part of the nocturnal orchestra, the creeks babbling flow to his right the steady base, and the occasional owl or deer, hooting or prancing through the thickets were the fillers. The melodious pizazz that kept the boys interest in the sound, and the veil's strength.

The noises unfortunately could not take Kyle away from his sore body, and strained mind entirely. It could not allow him to un-see the drunken rage in his stepfather's eyes, or un-hear the awful things he said to his all too submissive mother, who had sat motionless in the other corner, thankful it was not herself being beaten this time. All the crickets in the world could not chirp enough to undo the bruises and cuts left by his fists and the rings upon them, nor could the rabbits in the bushes, as numerous as they were, stop the belt from being swung, and the feeling of total defeat that followed. And sure as hell the freaking creek could not change the way Kyle felt now, though it's crystal clear and chilled waters may sooth the pain from his aching flesh.

Empty, hated, unwanted, a total pariah in his own home. His mother ceasing to care for him after his father died and she was left alone. When she became so hollow, it destroyed him bit by bit, but when that man came to make her whole, he just wound up making Kyle feel the same emptiness, and gave him scars to prove it was no bad dream.

Along the dirt road, Kyle never cried aloud, he teared though, not wanting anyone to know he was here; not wanting to encounter a soul on the 'one lane' trail, quiet and silently suffering as a ghost. He scratched at his dirty brown hair that hung in his eyes, then went right back to putting his arms over his chest, shivering in the falls chill, the previous days rain still keeping everything cool and damp. Had it been the summer, bugs would be swarming him for his blood, but the chill had luckily killed them all until the upcoming season that would renew the little torments.

Despite his knowledge of the trail, nothing could prevent his shoes from soaking through in the mud forming in the lower ruts. Nothing was worse than walking through mud at night with a lot on your mind, other than the unavoidable inevitability of returning home. His tall but thin form made his clothes look a size to big, but a size smaller wouldn't cover him height wise. He had dark relax fit jeans, tearing old 'Good Will' skate shoes, a tee-shirt covered buy a large jean jacket his mother tried to convince him was a man's, but the scarf it came with was a dead giveaway she was wrong.

The flesh beneath his baggy clothes was the opposite. He was thin from an awful diet, his bones showed through in a way that was attractive to very few. No muscle to try and make it look good, but hey, that's what happened when the food money is wasted on booze and women..., Kyle clenched his fists in renewed anger, the bastard even paid for OTHER women. He had some nerve. Absently he spit the iron taste of his own spilled blood from his mouth into the bushes from where it had leaked from his split lip, cursing that he didn't have the foresight to bring clean water or an extra pair of socks.

That's where the trail ended for now though, his feet began squishing onto the paved asphalt running through north end of the park. Kyle passed by the baseball diamonds, memories of his dad watching little league games lifting his mood a little. Kyle's team always seemed to lose, but it was fun regardless, and his dad was always there to cheer him on. Hell, he often went as far as to buy pizza for him and the team after most games on the meager budget that they had.

After the diamonds you had the junky playgrounds where drug exchanges went on at this time of night; you know the ones, tucked away, old, mostly made of the metal that would get a park in trouble in this day and age. The painted steel A frames reaching egg frying temperatures that can burn kids when heated by a full sun. That was followed by the first of two community centers; small, meant for group meetings in small clubs, then more diamonds with gazebos for family get-togethers and public events.

And last but not least at the very end of the road, the good playground, Kyle's safe haven. It was newer, more open; the bright plastic pieces all seeming skeletal in the night light. No one went here at night. You could not hide your shadow, it was all open and safe, you were aware of everything that happened around you. Behind it was the woods sure, but a good two hundred or so yard of open fields separated the two from each other. Kyle finally cried aloud, the tears flowing free. Here it didn't matter. Should anyone approach him he could make a dash for the sheltering haven of the woods. No one would see the cry-baby boy. Here he was free to be himself, by himself, but even then it was only under the cover of night's blanket.

His vision was blurred by tears as he made his way to the swings, the structures of insulated metal, plain, if gaudily simple. Thankfully Kyle just rocked there, he didn't need height. He was comforted by the fact that he would be there again, the night still embracing him, the world much less cruel, the eyes not there to do their judging.

The shadow in his safe haven was not comforting.

Kyle stopped in his tracks, the light of the crescent moon surprisingly bright and luminous, revealing to him a single figure atop the swings, just sitting; legs swinging loose from the metal beam, just seeming to stare at the moon above its head.

Kyle's fists clenched for a second time that night. How dare they? This was a safe haven. HIS Safe haven; and this ignorant ass just thought he could waltz in and take it from him? Hell no. He needed this. Kyle marched towards the swings, he wasn't normally one for confrontation, but this was serious. This person, whoever he was, was in Kyle's own perceived territory.

As he approached, the figure did not move, instead they continued to stare up either too deaf to hear or too stupid to turn Kyle didn't care, "Hey!" he shouted up, not screaming but with a booming voice, finally having reached his previously uncorrupt able place. It seemed filthy now, it needed to be cleansed. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

The hooded figure didn't even look at him as he spoke, their legs dangling down just out of Kyle's reach, had he been focused on more than the kid, he would have wondered how someone got up so high, and balanced so casually on the narrow beam.

"Sitting, watching the sky tonight," the male voice responded, still not dropping the hood or looking away from the celestial wonders, "Care to join me stranger?" it invited.

Kyle felt his face blush with anger, the blood curdling. This KID would not invite him to his own place. HE would deny the kid passage here. That's how it worked, "No, I'd rather have you leave."

This got the mystery child's attention who finally decided to regard the other boy at all, turning sideways but not removing the hood, "Why's that? I have just as much right to be here as anyone else."

"I don't care, get out. This is my place to be when I-"

"Yours?" the boy interrupted.

"Yes mine, get out."

"I don't see your name on it. I don't smell a marking, and I don't think you own the park or are an officer," the boy replied lazily, almost sounding bored, pissing Kyle off all the more. Then the mystery kid returned to gazing at the stars.

"Piss off, I don't care what you see or fucking smell, this is the first time I've seen you here. I've been here longer, it's MY place," Kyle boomed, approaching a little more, "And I want you out."

The hooded boy laughed out loud, but stopped, realizing how loud he was being, "Yours because you were here longer?" he giggled, "That's such a childish thing to say. If you apply that to life, then Fish own you, they were here longer, they are in charge, and secretly we all have a right to be here simply because fish tolerate u-"

"Shut the fuck up kid! Get out! Now!"

"No," the hooded boy dared, removing his hood, the only thing Kyle could make out was a little grin and the outline of unkempt hair. He was being toyed with entirely, "What are you going to do about it?" he asked Kyle, almost like he didn't expect an answer, like it was a rhetorical question.

Kyle continued to stare, continued to clench his fists, continued to rage over this injustice. Why did whatever power that existed above them refuse to cut him a break? "I'll..." Kyle began, trying to find the words. What was he willing to do? He wasn't exactly sure himself, but how far would he go for his own sake?

"You'll...?" The stranger asked, curious, but to Kyle it sounded like a taunt.

"I'll kick you out myself." The abused boy said, barely finding time to process exactly what he said before the other dropped down from his perch that grin back on his face. Kyle finally got a look at him, he was on the tall side, but clearly had more build then Kyle did. His dark colored hoodie was unbranded and his jeans were ragged with wear. The curious thing though was the lack of shoes, how it had gone unnoticed was beyond Kyle, but then he realized he didn't really care to know what shoes (or lack thereof) the perceived trespasser wore.

"You will?" It wasn't cruel, it wasn't threatening or scary; the stranger seemed to be testing him, trying to see how far Kyle would go but not making any threats himself, "Do it!" The trespasser still wore an impish grin, like he was excited this was happening, happy to be pushing Kyle's limits.

"Y...you think I won't?" Kyle stuttered out, taking a step back, he wasn't even convincing himself, "I'll do it, and I'm giving you one more chance to get out of here," he managed to get out.

"And I'm declining your invitation."

"N...now I'm telling you to leave." Kyle tried standing his ground. Something was wrong, this person seemed to drain all the fight he had in him, the stranger was terrifying and foreboding even though he had made no moves against the now stuttering boy.

"You don't seem very dominant," the kid pointed out calmly.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Prove me wrong."

Kyle cursed the boy in his head, he had a smart response to everything so quickly it was hard to keep up and not sound stupid in the process. Now Kyle noticed a surprisingly cold aura about the stranger that permeated his very being. He felt so chilled and alone. The feeling was like pure essence of isolation and rough exterior. Suddenly Kyle wasn't alone with this boy at the park, a mere jog to the road; Kyle was alone with this boy in their own little world, nothing was coming in or leaving. He had a feeling this kid was tougher then he seemed to be if it was possible; he panicked a bit in his head, maybe even sadistic or psychotic, broken and seemingly normal enough to pass by as a civilian. He was alone with a psycho.

Kyle had the sudden urge to leave...To run away and not look back. He might be able to make it to the trees where he could lose the tall boy; Kyle was a fast runner, maybe even more so when panicked sunk in and adrenaline rushed through him.

"Prove me wrong," the stranger said again with that same grin, the impish charm had turned to sadistic pleasure in Kyle's eyes.

The lanky boy ran; the theory about adrenaline proven right. He felt his legs flex faster, the world pass by quicker and his senses overall enhanced beyond what he normally perceived. He grinned and laughed a bit, allowing himself to believe he had already ditched the strange creepy boy. He covered the distance to the trees in moments and finally dared a look over his shoulder.

He was wrong, and oh so thankful he never stopped running. The stranger boy had followed and was close; Kyle could see his smile, his eyes gleaming from the moon and his bare feet picking up dirt and mud in hot pursuit. Kyle let out a small scream and groaned to himself.

Why the hell was he so pushy?! Why in the name of any fucking deity did he approach the bazaar, shoeless psychopath?! "Allah, God, Yahweh, Buddha, Shiva... Brahman...Amaterasu, ANY Pagan gods! Someone fucking help me!" he prayed aloud as he bolted through the forest faster than he thought he could, running clear through any obstacles he didn't see in time.

"Are you praying?!" The voice behind him asked, laughing a bit, "Your gods don't present themselves directly to your leaders, the hungry, the poor or the sick, why would they help you now?" he teased.

Kyle didn't want to answer, his stomach had dropped when he saw the boy take up chase, and his heart rose to his thought, his chest empty but his stomach cramping. The comments were so disconnected. 'Your leaders' 'Your gods.' They weren't his like they didn't apply, like he was separate from the norm in more ways than choice of footwear.

Kyle soon realized he was too terrified to answer, he was both too terrified to hear those awful things that made the stranger more horrifying, and he was too scared to waste air on it, too scared it would slow him down into the clutches of a killer... oh fucking shit why did he have to think 'killer'?!

The world past by in a blur, the lanky boy ran on auto pilot as he passed through the branches and bushes, leaped over roots and on every chance he got changed course under the cover of such obstacles, the larger boy seeing past it and catching up. Kyle was almost there, he was almost past the tree line to the road. That road would take him home...

The chase took them to an open field of grass, the short gate that separated the park from the road directly across it. It was all a matter of speed now, no fancy footwork involved.

...Home couldn't even be called safe...

The two were barely into the field and the chaser called out to his prey, "Almost there! I'll get you!" There was an adrenaline fed anxiety in the voice, something that would have terrified anyone with the raw emotion.

Kyle barely heard the voice, though he acknowledged it was a mere six feet behind him; closing in on him with that cold dark aura. What good was waiting for him when he finally got back to that home; it wasn't inviting, comforting, safe...

Finally he snapped out of his zone out as he was tumbling to the ground, landing after a tumble onto his back. Kyle's vision spun, the stars making circles as they moved, only to be blocked out by a tall shadowed figure. The lanky boy focused, finally snapping too in time for a foot to descend on his prone chest.

"Eh eh eh," the boy taunted, wagging a finger like Kyle was three and had been caught stealing a cookie. "What's the rush? Can't you stay and play a little longer?" After a moment of shuffling a metallic clink was heard, and a silver bit of pointed metal shined in the lunar ligh

This boy brought a knife Kyle realized, trying desperately now to get the foot off his chest, it wasn't crushing him but no matter how hard Kyle tried it didn't budge.

"I've been having fun tonight," the boy went on, "A lot of fun actually." He sat on the Kyle's waist, making it hard to breath, and equally impossible to move. It was terrifying; the boy sitting ON HIM, the knife inches away and being waved around with each hand motion. "I get the feeling I'm the only one getting much of anything from this game though," he added, that childish smile returning. "I don't want my play things unhappy, we haven't even made it to 'friends' yet, I usually at least get that far."

The lanky boy stopped struggling, realizing it was useless. He couldn't reach the knife or the taller boys arms; he couldn't stop himself from hyperventilating, and he most certainly could not stop listening to the crazy boys every word. They seemed exceptionally loud in the emptiness. There was only the sound of breathing, teeth chattering and this boy in the field. Even the crickets had silenced.

The stranger looked down at Kyle, leaning in with curiosity, "Your cold." he more so pointed out then asked. "I'll start there," he said with a smile, grabbing Kyle's arm and bringing it towards him with a violent tug, startling the fragile boy, making him cry out in fear. "Don't move!" The large boy emphasized, staring into Kyle's eyes with his intense brown ones, "This knife is very sharp."

Kyle swallowed and complied, for some reason the psycho child didn't already kill him, at this point he realized in pure terror that his life was completely in the hands of another living person. He felt a tug on his already grabbed arm, and then it was released so the other could undergo the same treatment. There was no pain, but Kyle didn't watch, that silver gleam was too close for comfort and he didn't want to pull unconsciously.

Kyle soon realized after his arms were released he felt colder than he did before, and then he was surrounded by warmth. He dared to look up, the stranger boy was shirtless, his jacket now lay on Kyle's chest. The large boy was well muscled and still smiled a big goofy smile, "I had fun. Same time tomorrow?" he asked. It was the first time he asked more than stated or demanded after the playground. He seemed almost shy.

Not that Kyle was confident in the moment; he just stared until the stranger ran back into the woods. After minutes Kyle sat up, holding the warm jacket. The stranger had cut clean through the sleeves on the opened jacket he had been wearing and he slipped out of in smoothly. Reluctantly Kyle left it, donning the new fur lined coat and stared the walk home. He wasn't sure what to make of the boy, but he sure as hell wasn't coming back as asked.