Whispering through the maze of small streets, the cold winds bit like icy blades with every sweep.
The streets were dotted with dilapidated structures that cast long shadows on a bleak picture unfolding along one of the winding paths.
Standing at the end of the alley, on the freezing ground was a wiry teenager.
The sleeves of his patchwork coat, a mess of cheap materials, swayed gently in the breeze.
He glared down at the street rodent beneath his feet, his mismatched boots grinding against the frost-covered ground.
On either side of him stood two other teenagers, one tall and thin and the other stockier and shorter.
The towering teen, his hollowed-out face almost obscured by a thin scarf, gripped the young boy's arm tightly.
The victim was held immobile while the shorter of the two laughed, his chilly, pockmarked skin flapping in the breeze.
With a scathing voice that cut through the cold, the wiry lad spat,"Thought ya could skitter off again, huh? Slippery lil' shit."
"Oi, Thrash, think ya better than us?" The taller one sneered, squeezing the kid's arm harder.
"Always dartin' off like a damn rat. That it? Think ya too good for the likes of us?"
"..."
The gaunt boy didn't move. He sat curled against the cold floor, his brittle lips barely shifting.
He looked like a ghost, his oversized coat hanging off his thin frame, frost clinging to his messy raven hair.
Bare and shivering, his hands twitched feebly against the ones pinning him down.
"Ain't got nothin'," he murmured, his voice flat and barely there.
"Bullshit!" barked the shorter one, his face twisting in anger. "Yer always sneakin' off, actin' like you ain't got nothin' when ya do. You think we're fuckin' dumb?"
"Liar! He's lyin', Jimmy!" The tall boy snapped, jerking the frail thing up by his coat collar before shoving him back down.
Jimmy sneered deeper at the sound of his name.
Crouching low, he leaned in, his stale breath clouding in the cold air. His thin lips cracked as he grinned.
"Ya know what ya are, Thrash?" Jimmy whispered, his tone dripping venom."A worthless sack of bones. Waste of damn space."
His voice dropped lower. "Ya shoulda croaked ages ago. Hell, maybe ya oughta go sell yer scrawny ass in one o' them whorehouses. Least then ya'd be worth somethin'."
The words hung in the air. The other two laughed, wheezing like a pair of stray dogs.
Jimmy straightened, cracking his knuckles. "Aight, let's teach this little bastard his place."
The two boys let go, and the frail kid crumpled onto the ice.
Jimmy didn't wait. He drove his boot into the weak boy's ribs.
A dull thud.
The other two joined in, mismatched boots hammering into the boy's side.
Curling in on himself, the frail boy weakly shielded his head with his arms. His ribs darkened under each kick, pain rattling through his wasted body.
Blood smeared the ice, dripping from the corner of his mouth.
But he didn't scream.
"Hah. The little freak doesn't even make a sound." After a while, Jimmy stepped back, panting.
A twisted grin spread across his face.
"Not so tough now, eh?"
Looking at the unmoving boy, the taller boy shifted uneasily. "Jimmy, I think that's enough. He's barely breathin'."
Jimmy shot him a glare. "Shut the fuck up. Bastard needs to learn. Ain't no runt slippin' away from me."
His hands went to his belt buckle. A wicked grin twisted his lips. "Think I'll piss on 'im. Give 'im a lil' somethin' to warm up, yeah?"
The shorter boy blinked and took a step back. "The fuck, Jimmy? That's sick."
"Yeah, man, that's—" the tall one mumbled, not stepping in but looking uneasy.
Jimmy growled. "Shut yer traps. You'll be laughin' after—"
Then, before Jimmy could finish unzipping, the frail boy moved.
*Swishh!*
Like a coiled spring which snapped loose.
His hand shot up, clamping right onto Jimmy's crotch.
Jimmy's breath hitched.
Then—
"N-No, my balls—Arghhhh!!"
A high-pitched scream tore through the alley.
Jimmy's face twisted in agony, his knees giving out as he crashed onto the ice, clutching himself.
The other two boys froze, dumbstruck.
Then—
"Y-You little shit!" The tall one snapped out of it and lunged forward.
The raven-haired boy ducked and shifted his stance. His foot slammed into the back of the tall boy's knee.
His leg buckled, and he hit the ground face-first with a brutal impact.
The frail boy's deadened eyes snapped to the short one, who roared and swung.
As the punch neared, he ducked at the last second—then lunged upward, his teeth sinking into the boy's nose.
In an instant he bit like a rabid dog.
"AHHHHH! RICK—T-THIS FUCKIN' PSYCHO BIT ME!" The short one reeled back, crashing on hard ground, clutching his nose, blood spraying between his fingers.
The gaunt boy didn't stop.
He turned to the tall one named Rick, who was now kneeling and clutching his face, groaning.
Crimson dripped from his broken nose, thanks to the fall.
The ragged raven-haired boy stalked behind him.
Before the tall one could react—
A kick.
Right to the crotch.
"ARGHHHHH!"
The tall boy howled, crumpling onto his side, writhing. His breath hitched, his whole body convulsing.
"W-Wait! Please! I—I tried to stop—" he gasped, tear-streaked.
But the frail boy didn't stop. His expression stayed eerily blank as he kicked him again.
"ARGHHH!"
Another kick.
"PLEASE! I—I won't ever touch ya again!"
*BAM.*
"AHHHH—"
The tall boy's screams were cut off.
His body jerked once—then went limp.
His eyes rolled back.
Saliva streamed from his mouth, which was open in a mute grimace of misery.
The shorter boy staggered back, shivering, his face bloodless. His fingers were still clutching his ruptured nose, his thoughts were frantic with anguish, and his wide eyes darted between his friend and the vulnerable figure looming over him.
Then he quickly crawled up and ran.
Without looking back.
He simply rushed out of fear.
Jimmy was left moaning on the floor, his hands gripped between his legs.
Getting hurt in the crotch is already one of the most excruciating experiences a male can go through in his life, but in the winter, the pain can be exacerbated since the scrotum contracts in the cold, pushing the testicles closer to the body.
This increases their rigidity and limits their ability to absorb trauma, resulting in severe pain.
If the person was previously numb, he may not feel the full power right away, but once the warmth returns, the pain can spike unexpectedly, resulting in agonising pain.
In some ways, the taller lad's fainting was preferable than Jimmy's constant suffering.
The frail boy watched the shorty flee but didn't bother to chase.
He couldn't either way.
He wiped his bloody mouth with a filthy sleeve, spitting out the taste of iron.
Then, calmly, he moved toward Jimmy.
He looked down at the pale Jimmy, who was still groaning on the cold ground.
Stepping closer, he raised his feet and delivered a solid kick to Jimmy's jaw.
Jimmy's eyes fluttered briefly before going limp, and he fell unconscious.
At least he won't have to suffer anymore.
The alley then fell silent once more.
The boy bent and moved his hands towards Jimmy, just in a few seconds his calloused fingers discovered a small, worn purse tucked away.
He pried it open and found a few crumpled currency bills inside.
Satisfied, he extracted the money, tossed the purse aside, and then pulled a ration bar from his oversized coat.
For a moment, he just stared at the ration bar.
Then, slowly, he unwrapped it and tossed it onto Jimmy.
"Shove it up yer arse, dumbass."
Without another glance, he turned and disappeared into the icy streets.
....
The alley was drowned in eerie silence, save for the occasional rustle of the wind against rotting wood.
*Rustle*
From behind a pile of splintered crates, a pair of wide, fearful eyes peeked out.
The short, bloodied boy with a bitten nose, who had fled moments ago, had come back.
His nose, swelled and torn where teeth had sunk in, was hastily wrapped in a strip of fabric that was already stained with fresh and clotted blood.
Red streaks streamed down his lips and mixed with the filth on his face. His breath came in trembling spurts, each one stinging as cold air rushed into his nose and over the exposed, torn skin.
His body trembled from the cold and the awful anxiety that curled in his stomach.
Yes, he had run, but it was necessary.
The skinny kid they sought to punish turned out to be a crazed rabid dog, not a person.
After getting bitten by him, even the thought of approaching that animal caused deep anxiety to him.
But he had to come back, as Jimmy and Rick were still here.
Even if Jimmy thrashes him after he recovers, it will be alright if his friend Rick takes his side.
Slowly, cautiously, he stepped forward.
His boots barely crunched against the frost as he approached, eyes locked on Jimmy's curled-up form.
Then—
He halted.
Abruptly.
Every muscle in his body seized, his foot hovering inches above the ground.
His breath hitched.
*Shff* *Shff*
Shadows stretched unnaturally along the alley walls, their edges writhing like something alive.
Not with the wind. Not with anything natural.
They twisted, lengthening in ways they shouldn't.
The dim alley light flickered
Something stirred.
*Tap… Tap… Tap…*
Soft footsteps echoed against the frozen ground.
A silhouette emerged from the darkness.
It was gaunt.
Wrapped in layers of ragged cloth that hung in strips, barely concealing the hunched figure beneath. Its head tilted.
The short boy's throat locked.
He couldn't breathe.
His mind screamed at him to move, run, anything, but his body wouldn't obey.
Not minding the boy, the figure crouched.
Its breath rasped.
"Hhhaaahhh… hhhaaahhh…"
A sickly, wheezing sound that made the air feel colder.
Then—
*Schlk.*
A tongue slithered out.
Too long. Too dark. Glistening like something wet and wrong.
It hovered over the frozen patch of blood, quivering, before lowering—
Schlrrrp.
A slow, deliberate lick.
A violent shudder wracked its thin frame.
Then again.
*Schlk. Schlrrp. Slck.*
Lapping up the blood with slow, obscene patience.
The short boy's fingers twitched. His lips parted in a breathless, silent scream—
But no sound came out.
His body swayed.
His vision swam.
And as the figure let out a low, crooked hum, his eyes rolled back.
With a dull thud, he collapsed onto the frost-covered ground.
Unmoving.
The inhumane figure didn't even glance at him.
It only crouched lower, shoulders twitching, its tongue slithering over the ice as if to savor any trace of the blood—
While Jimmy was unconscious beside it, unaware of the 'thing' feeding mere inches away.