The Chronicles of Jack: The beginning

The other side on the shadows.

There is no question to what we are. We are timeless, we are forever, we are damned. I don't know how we became this way and I don't know if there is a cure. Is there a cure for a soul so black? No, we are here; surviving and thriving on your scraps. What you toss casually away becomes our treasure, our life line. A discarded news paper tells us when we need to lay low. A dejected wino becomes an easy meal. And when the night folds in on you, when you feel like there is nothing left to life for. We are there to pick up the pieces and continue on for you. Long before your flesh ever grows cold. Is there an escape, maybe. Maybe hell will take us, maybe this existence is hell. We are uncertain. But given the choice between hell on earth and the pits of endless torment we chose to remain here. Besides, if we left, who would be there to hear you scream?

Jack panted and sputtered as blood gurgled from his mouth. He ran grasping his side where a metal pike had been driven into it moments before. Escape was the only thought that crossed his mind. Escape from that thing. He stopped to catch his breath and felt his life ebb from with in him. One more street, one more door. He could hide, could he hide? Questions spun through his head like a shaking cup on a saucer. The lights ahead began to dim and the alley way beneath him began to warp. No, he had to keep his head clear, he had to run. No time for questions, just run, "RUN!" He shouted and dashed, looking for a door, but the whole world began to wobble and spin. Poor jack didn't have time to go through all five fazes of death. He only had time for acceptance before the alley around him began to warp and the world itself faded away.

Another body lay sprawled across the ground and the beast moved on. Sniffing the air as it did so. It was searching for fresh meat, fresh blood and it found what it was looking for. The ground is littered with bodies now, and the city begins to shrink. It looks diminutive, like an ant hill and the screams become distant, like voices on the wind. Lights flicker, and guns discharge but that is below the clouds now. Not even when the beast found the orphanage could Jack's attention be drawn back. He could only look up at the light that was calling him home.