This choice: You hear glass shattering, and see mist coming out a window. • Go Back...Chapter #4The start of a new life. by: Unknown Harsley street was considered to be one of the worst part in the city, and by just one look you could obviously see why. Thirty years ago it was home to several large manufacturing industries, but, as the decades passed, companies made bad investments that led to bankruptcy or businesses simply decided to move away, searching for bigger fish to fry in other countries.
Now only empty husks remained. To call some of these buildings rundown would be an understatement. They were practically ruins, many roofless and windowless, plant life winning back what they had lost. It was the closest thing to a post-apocalyptic setting you had ever seen.
Of course, the street, which, ironically, in the past had supplied work for hundreds, had become a Hotspot for gang and drug activity.
You always felt vulnerable when you patrolled around here; gang members were extremely hostile and showed little to no fear for policemen. You had heard that several cops had lost there lives on this street because they underestimated their foes.
But tonight the street was unusually quiet, the only life you had seen so far being a few homeless bums. Perhaps the gangs decided, for ones, to call it a night, or perhaps they...
Fifty feet away a window of an abandoned factory burst open, and smoke began to pour out of the hole, as if it was on fire.
"Oi, what is this?" said Murphy as you jerked the cruiser to a halt.
Out of the broken window jumped a green lizard. He was clearly in a state of distress, suffering injuries, clutching something in his hand. He looked around frantically, spotted the car, and ran towards it.
You and your partner climbed out to investigate, your hand on your gun, ready for and sign of danger. You wanted to call out for him to stop, but then the main entrance of the factory burst open and another man came running out.
He was clad in heavy jacket, his identity concealed by a balaclava, but his bushy, stripped tail confirmed that he was a raccoon. In his gloved hands was a rifle. Immediately you and Murphy wiped out your pistols and aimed it at the raccoon.
"Drop the weapon, now!" you ordered.
But he ignored both you and your partner's repeated warning, aiming the rifle at the running lizard, who let out a short cry when he saw the rifleman and ran faster.
The raccoon pulled the trigger. The lizard fell forward onto the pavement. It was then that you and Murphy fired a few shots at the raccoon. They missed and he escaped into an alleyway.
You partner took off after him, yelling a typical cringe worthy line he was so accustomed to, "Stop in the name of the law!"
You also ran forward, kneeling and flipped the lizard over. A massive red stain was blossoming across his shirt, but he was still alive. Barely though.
"Don't worry, kid," you said, for he looked rather young, "Your gonna be okay."
You were lying, of course. With a wound like this it would be a miracle that he survived for a few seconds longer, his breathing already growing shallower and shallower, but it was the least you could do to comfort him in his last living moments.
The lizard's mouth moved, attempting to say something.
"What is it?" you said soothingly, "Come on, what do you want to tell me?"
It was then that you felt something. Jenkins your head at your left shoulder, you saw that the lizard had jabbed some kind of syringe into it. He let go and it automatically injected neon blue liquid into your body, the blood vessels around that area turning the same color for a few moments.
Horrified, you plucked it out and grabbed the lizard's shirt, shaking him, yelling, "What the hell was that? What the hell did you do to me?"
But it was too late. The spark of life left the lizard's eyes and his body grew limp. He was dead.
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