Similar difference (part 1)

    January 23rd 2006 was a dark, dismal day, followed by a darker and more miserable night. The air was thick with city fog which creeped out into the open earlier, blocking out the suns warm rays for the most of the day and ice had settled on the ground in thick slabs leaving the pavement a menace to walk upon. The moon was at full and was looking most beautifully intriguing, the sounds of the city hadn’t stopped but were dying away steadily. The rain fell from the sky; diamonds in their own way. It splattered on the ground and on what pavement was left untouched by Jack Frost’s icy grip, it made a small, circular patch of water. 
  Most people had head home for the night, most were settling down to watch a favourite family TV show together, most were starting to eat their dinners, but for some families, they were a member short.
  Amy Stelton was at work that night.
--x--

    Nicholas lifted his head to the night sky and opened his eyes. The rain fell onto his face in cold splats and he smiled. He loved it when it rained. He loved the way they rain sounded hitting the pavement, that wonderful pitter-patter made him feel young again; made him feel as though he was back home with his Mama and Papa.
  Every rainy day, his Mama would bake a Victoria sponge and a strong aroma of cinnamon and vanilla, his Mama’s secret, special ingredients, would drift upstairs in gigantic, delicious waves, filling Nicholas’ room, and his nostrils, with that radiant smell.
  He would jump up off his bed and dash down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his Mama stood over the oven. As he slid through the door she would always look back and smile at him and he would always smile back and sit down at the table, sitting straight, arms crossed, ready and waiting for that first slice.
  His Papa, on the other hand, would sit in the living room , in his big, green armchair with the clawed lion’s feet next to the fire, smoking his pipe and reading the Sunday sports. His Papa was a strict and tidy man, his Papa was a man that demanded respect just by his mere presence in a room, his Papa was a very important person, his Papa was a Judge.
  Papa obviously always smelt the cake seeing as the living room was also the dining room and next to the kitchen, but unlike Nicholas he would keep his dignity and remain on his throne, remain reading, and remain smoking. However, once or twice, Nicholas was sure he had seen his Papa lick his lips when he received the slightest whiff of that tempting smell, and crane his neck round the corner to catch a glimpse of that delicious treat. They were the good days, the fun days, the days before his life was torn apart and replaced, before he changed.
--x--

    “He’s on the run!” a voice screamed through Amy’s walkie-talkie, “Down Hawke Road!”
  Amy was first to respond. “I’m on my way”, she said and turned to the direction of Hawke Road and began to run. The ground was wet from the rain and melting frost. Her feet slipped on the ice and wet leaves, and the fog almost completely blinded her, making it very difficult to see exactly where she was going. Turning a corner, she slipped on a frozen puddle, falling onto all fours. A hot pain passed through her knee which she brushed off with a shake of her head. She picked herself up and continued running, although now, limping a little.
--x--
 
    Nicholas didn’t like being followed, infact, he despised it. Nevertheless, he did like running; he liked the wind whipping his face, the adrenaline coursing through his body and the pumping of his heart trying to keep up with him was indescribable. But he occasionally had to stop.
  He stood there for a while, letting the rain fall on his face again, breathing heavily, his hands on his knees. After a while he got his breath back fully and just stood there looking at his surroundings. He looked to his side and when he spotted a policewoman turn the corner and fall on her knees, she shook her head and stood up, he watched her from afar and when he noticed that she was coming for him, he ran, his well-used leather trench coat billowed out behind him and his long and matted, black hair flew about his face.  He turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, laughing; loving that amazing feeling.
--x--

    Amy had spotted him. He had ran down an alley that leaded straight into the centre of town. It looked like at one point that he was laughing, his tree obviously doesn't go to the top branch, she thought. 
  Amy knew a short cut that would get her to the town centre before he would. She turned and sprinted down a dark lane and into another. Then another. And another, when she came to a wall. Now she needed to vault over it.
  It was a good thing that she was a brilliant gymnast when she was at school. She jumped up and over with ease and landed safely on the ground below.
  She spotted an open gate which led into an abandoned house’s garden which  was just perfect to wait in. She drew her baton just in case and opened the gate. She crept in and closed it behind her, locking it securely. She looked around for a possible place to hide. Her eyes set on a crack in the fence where she could watch. She crept over to it and crouched down silently.
--x--

    Still running, Nicholas turned another corner into a narrow alley which led out into a large, almost empty car-park and onto the high street, perfect he thought, I’ll mingle with the crowds, they’ll be coming out of the pubs soon. He turned right, into another alley, he could see a way out! A slight euphoria coursed through him at the thought that he was almost free.
  He hesitated. Something wasn’t right. He skulked forward, making as little noise as possible. He took another step and stopped. He had heard something. A rustling of clothes rubbing together or maybe the shuffle of hidden feet, the low breathing of an unknown someone and the continuous beating of their frightened heart. It was behind the fence to his right. He peered through the crack and leered evilly. He had found his next victim.
--x--

    Amy’s heart was racing. She knew he was near. She could almost feel him. She slowly stood up and looked through the crevice.
  She found herself staring into wide and sunken, dark eyes. The type most people only get to see once. Those of a killer.
  She pulled away in shock. Her heart beating faster. She dared not to look through again,
(Look again)
she didn’t want to, she couldn’t,
(Look again)
she wouldn’t, but she was tempted so by her own curiosity.
(Look again!)
  She bought her eye back to the crack, expecting to see those evil eyes once more, expecting to be terrified when she looked into them again.
  She was even more frightened when she didn’t. She straightened herself up instantly in shock. Her eyes darted around, looking for anyway that he could get in. Apart from through the now locked gate, there was only one, and that was probably almost impossible.
  Up and over.
  She quickly determined if anyone would be able to be able to jump over it. It wasn’t , or at least didn’t look it. The only way for him to was to have some sort of super natural powers or a ladder, both of which she highly doubted he had.
  She heard something on the other side of the fence. She positioned her ear on it. She heard nothing but she was sure she had. She was soon proved right.
  A low, gluttonal growl erupted from the other side, steadily getting deeper and louder. The gate shook violently, he was trying to get through! He smashed into the gate again. Amy flinched, her hand on her heart. She was trapped. He hurtled into it again. The lock was old looking but very firm as rust had not yet withered its strength. It too shook violently as the gate shuddered and shook as though in a tempest. A frustrated roar came from behind the gate. He was trying to get through but knew he couldn’t. Not that way. Amy heard footsteps. She braced herself for the next blow, of which she was sure would splinter and maybe even crack the gate. She shielded her eyes just in case.
  It never came.
  She felt somewhat relieved and laughed at the absurdity of it. 
  This short high was soon cut fleeting. The fence began shaking again, as violently as it had a moment ago but no pounding but a scratching and scuffle of something against the wood. And then, silence.
  A small penny dropped from the sky and landed on the floor pinging. It rolled in circles untill finally came to a stop. Amy realised. She looked up in horror as she saw the crouched body of a man. A Person who viciously attacked and murdered anyone he could find. A being, who's calling card was a penny on the eyes of each of his victims. The man she was hunting.