Cold.

  A biting chill seeping in his fingers.

  Fith sat at a bench in a park close by to the club. He yawned and massaged his eyes with his cold hands.

  "Fucking hell, it's cold here."

  Fith was not used the deep cold, it rattled his immortal bones.

  "Even the coldest place back home was uncomfortable warm..."

  He looked down at his legs, the oversized cargo pants billowing under him.

  "...Just burn yourself on a pipe if you had to."

  Fith finally stood up, stepped on the nice bench, and dove off.

  *Crack.*

  "Ahhhhguu. Phew, again?"

  Fith looked down at his plain white T-shirt, and stepped back up.

  "Again."

  *Crack.*

  Fith looked down-

  *Crack.*

  Fith looked-

  *Whoomph!*

  Fith-

  *Thump.*

  He-

  *Whoosh~*

  H-

  *Bang!*

  "Ooohh...Fuhuhuck."

  Fith had slammed a garbage bin on his last jump.

  "Alright, I'm done."

  Fith's gaze drew across his arms and clothes, taking in the rough look of his clothes and scrapes along his arms from the times he caught himself.

  The pain flaring across his face in a few places told how many times he didn't. Looking at the plate of the bin showed him his broken nose.

  Yea, that'll work. But he was still missing something. He swiped at his mouth and felt the grit of his palm against his lips. Ah, that was it.

  Fith rose from the floor and took a handful of trash from the bin and tossed it above himself, letting it rain down.

  He did so twice before moving to the grass and pilling up leaves. He then threw those too, twice, and rubbed the leaves on his shirt and pants.

  Fith took a moment to look at the chaos he'd made around the park bench, and grinned.

  "Just like home."

  He caught sight of himself in the lid, and his smile died.

  "Just like home."

  He set to work cleaning up the trash and leaves, then wondered off following the paths of the park.

  Ten or so minutes latter he stopped by a tree and put his palm on it. He stretch his back as much as could.

  'Got cha.'

  He had a tail. He was pretty certain he'd had one for a little bit, but now he was certain.

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  Whoever it was, had slowed down to not over pace Fith while he stretched.

  The man, judging from the walk and the frame, had also swerved just a little to the side of Fith that wasn't as stretched, likely to avoid his eyes.

  Now that Fith knew for certain he was being followed, he ran through a couple test of escalating difficulty on the stalker. He failed most of them.

  Not a pro, or even an amateur. Just someone a little good a watching an' walking.

  Fith made several traps for the man, making him get closer without realizing it.

  At least too quickly, if he did then it would be too obvious to slow down because Fith would notice him. Well, if Fith didn't already know.

  Now that they could hear each others footsteps, it would tip either off if they moved too strange.

  Fith started to cough, a hand on his chest and one in his pant pocket as he hunched. The man had to keep walking. Closer. Closer. Closer still.

  "Whoa!"

  The man leaned back as hard as he could, it wouldn't be enough. Fith swung his entire body with his right arm.

  knifes edge glinting off the morning sun as his fingers wrapped the handle. His body was lacking to keep up with his own swing.

  Fith too leaned back as much as he could, knife gliding harmlessly through the air next to the mans neck.

  "Idiot!"

  Fith screamed at the man, no boy, that stood in front of him with wide eyes below a grey mask.

  "Absolute, fucking, MORON!"

  Fith's right hand twirled the thin knife back into his pants. Left hand bunching in the collar of the kids clothes.

  "What the shit was that?!"

  "I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, let go please."

  Kwan dipped his head and pleaded.

  "You stupid fuck," Fith let go. "What are you even doing? What stupid shit went through that head of yours, that I'm the right guy to sneak on?"

  "Look I said I'm sorry-"

  "You aren't. You would have been."

  "And, and I wasn't thinking-"

  "Goddamn clearly."

  "I'm just following you, you know? I didn't see you at all yesterday, you just ghosted. I thought we could talk."

  "So when I defiantly don't want to be found, that's when you look for me? Fine, fuck it. You got my attention, I almost had your throat. Use it."

  Kwan thought for a moment on what to say, before just asking the simplest thing he could.

  "What are you doing?"

  "My job."

  "Which is?"

  "...You want to help?"

  "Yes! Whatever it is, yes!"

  "Buy me a beer. And some news papers."

  "Uh, what d-"

  "Or you can fuck off."

  "Beer, news papers. On it."

  "Meet me at the end of the park, over there. What time is it?"

  Kwan pulled out his phone, "08:23?" And put it away.

  "Then be quick, and hope he's late."

  "Who's-"

  Fith was already walking away.

  Fith sat in front of a house, shirt soaked through and a bottle next to him.

  A bunch of papers were plastered down, and others were ripped up, covering like clothes.

  A long, closed, metal box was in his shadow.

  A man came out from the house, dressed well and in a hurry. He gave Fith several looks, and ignored him. Flicking through keys to find his door key.

  Fith rattled a can in his hand just as the man found his key, it startled the man and he lost his place.

  He muttered to Fith. "???? ???. ???? ?????!"

  Just as a man in a mask ran by and tripped, falling to the side walk.

  "?! ??, ?, ??! ??!"

  Kwan screamed clutching at his ankle. The man from the house looked over, and took a few steps from the door to look.

  As his mouth opened, Fith wrapped his arms around the man from behind, and dragged him through the still open door.

  The man struggled, kicking the long, open, metal box over as he yelled out, "????! ??, ?! ??! ? ???-" And then groaned.

  "Ahgrr!"

  Fith let go of his body, and held his mouth shut with his hand as the man gargled.

  "Gurgha! HuCgh, aWmachachack!"

  His arms and legs went limps. Fith supported the mans back with his chest.

  "Hm, that's a shame. You could have made it easier on yourself."

  The blood mulching over Fith's fingers dripped down onto the mans shirts, joining the rest of his blood pouring out.

  The man spasmed and frothed with blood bubbles. The large knife digging into his throat, plunged through his collarbone.

  "Mhm, mhm. It's okay. The time is now, your time is up."

  Fith lowered himself down with the man. Bringing them to the floor. He let go of the mans mouth and a seeping stream of red fell from his lips.

  "I understand you," Fith looked into the eyes of the man dying in his arms. With gurgling words, and glazed eye motions. "I see. Be better in The End."

  Fith pushed the knife to it's handle and ended the mans life.

  Fith rose from the floor, peered at the dead mans home, eyeing the closet, and walked out the door.

  In a suit.

  He turned to the box and put his knife away, before closing it and walked to Kwan.

  For all the world, an innocent man.