In love with London
I used to be in love with London. Certainly it possesses an outward beauty. In the intervening years since I arrived here, I’ve seen beneath that beauty. It is, as they say, only skin deep. There are things beneath it…unspeakable things.
And sometimes they surface.
The girl — or creature rather – the creature’s jaws snap at me. The lines of razor sharp teeth are inches from my face. Its breath smells like Hell. How appropriate.
Other than the elongated mouth, deadly orthodontics and glowing yellow eyes, the creature possesses the look of a young, rather innocent girl. It makes for a very unsettling combination.
I jam my arm as hard as I can into her throat and roll. I end up on top of the creature for a moment. That moment passes quickly as the girl pulls her legs tight against her chest and kicks out. Her feet catch me squarely in the the stomach, sending me flying across the alley. My head bounces as it hits the ground hard, followed by the rest of my body. Consciousness escapes me.