I get scared, too, I worry quite a lot about a many of different things. I am not a cold and heartless bastard like a lot of people think, I am just regrettably, my father's son...

My eyes couldn't have widened any farther than they had at that moment. What on earth was that boy? A blade? An arm that transformed into a blade? I stared at them as the three other boys had slight fear cross their young faces. The bladed-arm child let out a low chuckle before thrusting his weapon out at his enemies. Not even a second later they all turned and ran away, obviously scared of the boy they thought would be easy prey.

I tilted my head to the side some, a hand moving up and rubbing at my still aching and mutilated chest through my thin hospital gown I just realized I was wearing. Holding my breathe I watched as the boy just grinned to himself and returned his arm to normal. It interested me greatly. How on earth did he do that? I wonder if I can...maybe if I could've done something like that if I would have been able to protect myself...

Lost in slight thought I jumped back into the cold, brick alleyway when I noticed said boy looking in my direction. Panic rose within me when the boy raised a brow and walked closer to me. All I could do was try to blend in with the rusty-colored wall that my back was pressed against and hold my breath even more.

"Hey...you another punk that wants to mess with me? Get out here and fight then, you coward!" the strange boy yelled with a slight glare.

I bit my lip and slunk down the wall some more, saying nothing as I looked over the boy more now. He had shoulder-length crimson red hair...it reminded me of blood, almost what my hair looked like when it was matted with blood. The boy wore a light black jacket that hung open so you could see he wore a grey shirt along with a pair of raggy blue jeans. I gulped silently thinking of his blade pericing my already sore body.

The redhead growled slightly, walking right up to me before gripping the front of my gown and pulling our faces so close that I could feel his breath upon my terrified face.

"Well, you gonna fight or w-" he cut himself off, blinking as he looked me over some, "...you're not from his gang, hell you're in a hospital dressing gown, what the fuck are you trying to pull here, kid?"

I stayed silent for a little, not really knowing what to say, but this boy held a firm grip on me and for some reason I didn't feel like trying to get him off. Thinking I should say something to him I slowly opened my mouth and to both of our surprises I let out a pathetic whimper, my arms limp at my sides. I was just so tried...I didn't want to fight, hell I didn't want to even try much anymore. I had escaped my torturer, but not without severe injuries and even then I had acted out violently and gutted the man. Then I ran from a hospital, trying once more to escape from what I didn't want and basically passed out in an alleyway afterwards...I was completely drained, just too exhausted to care...

The boy's eyes had widened a tad at my noise, slowly releasing me and allowing me to lean against the wall. I slid down it as darkness began to blur my vision, my numbing body beginning to shut itself down. The redhead had bent down and said something that I didn't comprehend while a somewhat gentle hand was laid upon my shoulder before allowing my eyes to roll back. Passing out back against the coldness of the brick wall, in front of a boy who scared and intrigued me greatly.