Shoes scuff along the pavement, soles worn thin. A trail of worn out and untied shoelaces behind them. His heavy breaths echo in the cool October night, leaving puffs of condensation in their wake. The dim orange glow of the streetlights provide an illusory perception of safety, the void of shadows seemingly closing in on the light.

A crosswalk looms ahead; he still has five seconds to cross, and so he does. The deserted streets and abandoned sidewalks mock him. The rules are in place for a reason, he thinks. It’s the principle. It’s right.

He pulls his hood up over his head, feeling watched.

Xander wasn’t a bad person. He really wasn’t. A solid B+ student, but he always tried the hardest. Kept in touch with most of his family, but cared the most. Had only four friends, but kept them close. He was extremely determined and extremely loyal.

Whispers ring out in the otherwise hushed air.

Xander keeps his head forward and focuses on where he’s headed. His right hand tightens on the grip of his pocket knife, currently sheathed in his jacket. Protection. Prevention. His left hand clutches his phone like a lifeline, the music in his earbuds silenced over three blocks ago. Nothing now to drown out the cacophony of mental noise reverberating off his walls, leaving nothing behind but pure destruction. Can’t let them think he’s distracted and paranoid.

Because he’s not.

The eyes on him feel closer, more imminent. He quickens his pace. Lurking in the shadows, piercing gaze trained on him. Watching. Waiting.

A noise rips him from his thoughts, his head whipping to his right. He pauses as two pairs of beady yellow eyes stare back at him from the alleyway. Raccoons, he thinks. He’s not the threat here. They’re not the threat. The harrowing eyes on his back don’t belong to them.

Xander resumes.

Face forward.

Eyes down.

There’s a faint hum in the air, he notices, as he quirks his ear around, utilizing every possible sense to give him an upper hand. A sliver of an advantage, maybe. But soon, the air around him thickens and realization settles in next to the dread pooling at the bottom his stomach as his senses confirm his worst thought. His past is here. And it’s back with a vengeance.

He’s not going to win this fight.

But he’s gonna try the hardest, because he cares the most. He’s determined.

Xander has but one little moment to react.